Taming Johnny (16 page)

“Emma?”

She looked up at Jake standing over her. Without saying another word, he pulled her to her feet and into a bear hug that took her breath away.

“It’s okay,” he finally said. “He’s tough. He’s gonna be all right. If I know Johnny, he’ll be bitching about this next week.”

Unable to smile, she nodded, scared to death. “What if…”

“No.” Jake took her by the shoulders, his face strained. “He’s going to be fine. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a plane right about now?”

“I’m not going.”

“Not now? Or not ever?”

“Not ever. At least not anytime soon.” Either it was her imagination or his eyes softened at that. “I should have listened to you. I let him push me away. So
easily
. I never even put up a fight. I just let him get his damn way.”

“It’s not your fault, Emma. He knows how to hit where it hurts. And I’m guessing you were no exception. But I
am
glad you’re staying. If he can stop being an asshole long enough, I think he might be worth it.”

She laughed and the sound lightened her heart a little, giving her hope. “I like to call it a strong personality.”

“That’s a nice way to put it.” After a second, Jake’s smile faded and he sat down. “Eli’s on his way.” He looked up with a new expression that she hadn’t seen from him yet. It was serious. “Johnny’s always been like a brother to us. He got dealt some bad cards early on. He’s a good guy, deep down. You understand what I’m saying?”

She nodded, understanding perfectly. The Johnny Street that resided underneath the surface wasn’t the same man that most people ever came to know. The question was, would she?

Emma sat down next to Jake and looked around the waiting room. Various men and women in uniform stood along the walls talking quietly, some she recognized and some she didn’t. Family members were starting to trickle in, Johnny’s aunt and uncle, a few more cousins, some friends. All wearing somber looks on their faces. And all here because they obviously cared about him deeply. By now they knew, like she did, that he’d not only been shot in the line of duty, but also because he was trying to de-escalate a situation and keep a woman from getting hurt. There were reporters gathering outside with stiff hair and huge cameras, all hoping for a word or two from one of his loved ones.

Emma sat back, watching the slow hand of the clock inch forward. She brought her fingers to her lips and chewed a nail, trying to remember the last thing she’d said to him. Did he know exactly how she felt? She’d told him she loved him. But she’d left it at that. Did he know that her knees had actually gotten weak the first time he’d walked past her? Or that these last few months he was the last thing she thought about when she went to sleep at night and the first thing that entered her head when she woke up in the morning? Or that deep down she’d been hoping that he would stop her from going to Africa? Because as much as she wanted to see the world, what she really wanted was to see it with him.

She began to cry again, quietly and without shame. Jake put an arm around her, pulling her close. He was solid and warm, and she closed her eyes.
Please, God, let him live. Let him be okay.

And when she opened them again, there was an exhausted looking doctor wearing bloody scrubs, standing in front of Jake.

“Are you family?” he asked.

Emma sat up straight.

The doctor looked from Jake to her, and back again, his stern blue eyes giving nothing away. “Would you like to step into the other room?”

Jake shook his head. “We can talk here. How is he?”

Eli was right there, along with Johnny’s aunt and uncle, and they stood holding hands, waiting for the doctor to speak.

“He’s out of surgery. The bullet entered through his abdomen underneath the vest. It missed his major organs.”

Johnny’s aunt gasped. “Thank God.”

The doctor’s face was drawn. “The bullet is lodged against the dura mater of his spine. It’s imperative that he doesn’t move right now until the swelling is alleviated, so we’ve given him an epidural until we can evaluate the situation further.”

“What does that mean?” Emma asked.

“It means we’ll have to decide whether or not to remove the bullet later.” He paused, his demeanor softening. “It also means that there’s a possibility of paralysis from the waist down. I’m very sorry.”

Emma blinked. It was ridiculous really. Absurd that a tiny little bullet could have this much of an effect on a man like Johnny Street. Larger than life, tougher than nails, Johnny. All she could do was grab onto the doctor’s hand before he turned away.

“But he’s going to live, right?” she asked, the sound of her voice scaring her.

He looked down and gave her hand a squeeze.

“He’s going to live.”

* * * *

The next six hours passed like slow dripping molasses. People had trickled out of the waiting room, leaving just Johnny’s family and Emma, exhausted and anxious for any more news. His aunt Helen sat close and talked to Emma for much of that time. She was a tall woman with a long, kind face, and seemed to think of Johnny as more of a son than anything else. It was her sister who had died so many years ago, leaving him alone and bitter at such a young age. She was holding Emma’s hand when the doctor walked in again. He was cleaned up and wearing new scrubs, but the stern expression remained.

He looked down through narrowed eyes. “Are you Emma?”

“I am.”

“He’s insisting on seeing you. Keep it brief. It’s imperative that he stays quiet.”

Emma nodded. “I will, doctor.”

“Follow me.”

She must have looked as scared as she felt, because Jake gave her a reassuring smile.

There were so many things Johnny could say. So many reasons he might want to see her. What if he was angry with her for not getting on the plane? That would be so Johnny. But the thought of his anger was welcome. It was an emotion that she finally felt she could counter without a problem. There was absolutely nothing he could say this time to make her shrink from him. Those days were over.

She followed the doctor at a brisk pace down the chilly, white hallway. He didn’t try to make conversation and she was glad. She was too wrapped up in thoughts of Johnny. Would he walk again? The thought twisted her stomach. He was consumed with anger completely healthy. Paralysis, or even the possibility of it, could gobble up what was left of him. She felt her resolve stiffen. They’d just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. She wasn’t going anywhere.

When they reached his room, the doctor nudged the door open. “Remember, keep it brief.”

“I will.”

She’d spent the last six hours envisioning Johnny in his hospital bed, but even the most vivid thoughts couldn’t have prepared her for what she saw.

The room was claustrophobic. Maybe not so much small, as crowded with instruments, all made of cold, hard metal with sharp edges and bright screens. Tubes of various sizes made an intricate web, all making their way toward Johnny’s arms and midsection, which was barely covered with a thin, blue hospital gown. Johnny himself, who had always been a picture of strong, tanned vitality, now lay still and pale on the bed. His eyes were closed and dark purple smudges sat below them. His lips, which had moved over her body with such intense heat just a few weeks ago, were dry and drained of all color.

Emma’s heart lurched before swelling to the point of physical pain. Tears threatened, but she blinked them back. Her crying would not be the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes.

She quietly pulled up a chair to his bedside, vaguely aware of the doctor slipping out the door. They were alone now. She watched his chest rise and fall, heard his breathing, soft on the air, and punctuated only by the steady beeping of the heart monitor to her right.

Looking down, she took his hand and wrapped her fingers around his. They fit like flesh colored puzzle pieces, hers soft, white, and a little plump. His long, hard, and calloused. They were vastly different hands, but somehow fit perfectly, as if they were always meant to be holding on to one another.

She looked up to find Johnny staring at her. His eyes were hooded and glassy. But there was that same old sharp edge that had always been there. She could tell he was coherent.

“I—” she began before realizing she didn’t know what to say. She licked her lips and tried again. “I—”

“You didn’t go.” His voice was raspy and slight, and she had to lean closer to make out the words.

“No,” she said.

“Why?”

She stared at him, wanting to pick her words carefully, because this was the moment. The moment when she knew for certain that if she chose to love this man, she would have to stand up to him. Not just in matters of the tongue, but in matters of the heart, as well.

“Because I love you, Johnny. And I think you love me too. And when you love someone, you don’t leave.”

“I—”

She held up her hand. It was her turn to cut him off. “I know you’re afraid.”

He raised his brows and she smiled.

“Yes, even
you
are afraid of things, Lieutenant Street. And it’s okay to be afraid. Because you know what? Being afraid of losing something means it’s worth holding onto.”

“I—”

“Ah!” She held up her hand again. “I’m not leaving. You’re just going have to get used to that. And later on, if I know in my bones that you don’t feel the same about me, I’ll move on. Without any regrets. But
I’m
going to decide. You’re not going to decide for me. Understand?”

Behind her, the door came open and the doctor poked his head in. “He really needs his rest, miss. Time to wrap it up.”

Johnny eyed the doctor. “Girlfriends, doc. What are you gonna do?”

Emma gaped at him, felt his fingers tighten around hers, before he closed his eyes and grimaced. A moment later, he opened them again, looking tired. “Hey,” he said, “you wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise.”

Emma tried to maintain her composure. What she really wanted to do was crawl into bed next to him, curl up into his side, and fall asleep listening to him breathe. She wanted to tell him that she loved him and nothing was going to change that. Nothing.

But he looked exhausted and it was best just to take it one step at a time. All those things could wait. She planned on having plenty of time to tell him. To show him how she felt.

She leaned close to give him a gentle kiss on the lips. When she removed her hand from his and began to stand, he grabbed it again with surprising quickness.

“Emma,” he said. And the sound of her own name had never sounded so lovely, so sexy, so wonderful in her entire life. She felt herself grin like a lovesick girl. Because that’s really what she was. Lovesick. Hopelessly and completely.

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t have to say any more. She knew what those two words encompassed. Years and years of bitterness and pain. Healing wouldn’t happen overnight. It would probably take a very, very long time. And maybe Johnny would never be completely whole again. But for the first time since she’d met him, she felt him open. Just a little, but it was enough to see a light inside of this man who had for so long been surrounded by nothing but darkness. And it warmed her through.

Epilogue

Johnny never knew what to buy. He stood in front of the aisle of colorful stuffed animals and rubbed his stubble covered chin. He hadn’t shaved in days. He liked it. In fact, he was thinking of growing a beard. Something the department didn’t allow, but what the hell. He was on vacation. He could shave when he got home.

A pair of soft, bare arms encircled his waist from behind. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how she felt. He’d never admit it, but as much as Johnny prided himself on being tough, she made him feel safe. Because in a way, she had saved him from himself.

“What are you thinking, mister?”

He turned just enough so he could kiss her forehead. Her hair smelled like the fruity scented hotel shampoo and his thoughts tumbled back to showering with her that morning. “I got her a stuffed animal last year. Maybe she’s getting too old for that kind of thing?”

“How about a couple of board games? They’ll love those. I always did when I was a kid.”

“Mmm…”

She rubbed the spot on his abdomen where the scar was hidden underneath his shirt. It was still numb, but it seemed to be her favorite place to touch.
If I kiss it enough, the feeling will come back,
she’d always say.

He grabbed her hands and brought them to his lips. “If you keep that up, we’re going to have to go back to the hotel. And I thought today was for the Eiffel Tower.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” she said against the back of his neck, her breath hot and suggestive.

“I’m all for the hotel, baby. But if we don’t go soon, we’re gonna miss it.”

They were leaving in three days for Africa, for the village outside of Zimbabwe where Nigel was waiting for them. They were going to visit and do research for the new non-profit organization they were starting up for children who had lost their parents at a young age. Nigel was proving to be very knowledgeable with ways they could help, since several little ones in his village were orphans. Altogether the trip would take three weeks, but they were already planning when they could come back to Africa. Johnny hadn’t taken a single vacation day in years, so he had plenty of time built up. And he was quickly finding that he liked being a man of leisure, especially alongside Emma.

“I like the board game idea,” he said, pulling her around so she was facing him. “And I like you.” He put his lips to her neck and felt her shiver.

“You like me, huh?”

“Okay. I like you a lot.”

“Well, thanks. I guess I like you too.”

“Glad that’s settled.”

She smiled. “You might not like me so much when I take over your bathroom with blow driers and flat irons.”

“You can have all the counter space,” he said, running a hand down her long, thick hair. “But we share the shower.”

She grinned before wrapping her arms around his waist again and pulling him close. She turned so that her cheek was resting against his chest and he could feel her incredible warmth through his shirt.