Authors: Kristen Luciani
A hand grasped his hunched shoulder. “Detective Andrews wants to talk to you.”
He wiped away the stray tear that escaped his bleary eye, unlocking his fingers from hers. Every muscle ached, from his neck to his calves. Emotionally shredded. That was the best way to describe the feeling. It wasn’t just pain that consumed him, even though it felt as though his body had been torn apart and then clumsily sewn back together. No anesthetic. Just pure, unadulterated torture.
Detective Andrews waited in the hallway, a clear plastic bag in hand. “Mr. Emerson, I know this is probably the last conversation you want to have right now, but—“
“It’s the only one I want to have if you tell me you got the son of a bitch that did this to her.” His voice cracked. “Did you find him?”
“Not yet, but we’re close. We have information that—“
A hollow laugh escaped his lips. “You know what? Information is great. It’s
power
. If you have it, there’s no limit to what you can do with it. But if it can’t help you make a decision or lead you to an answer, it’s fucking useless. Just data with no meaning, no credibility. So what is it that you have, Detective? Because you sure as hell don’t have any solid leads, and I’m tired of being strung along.”
“We’re investigating some intel that was corroborated by Rochelle Harrison, and make no mistake, we will find who’s responsible.” He held out the bag. “This was recovered from the scene. Do you recognize it?”
Avery’s bracelet. The one she always fiddled with when she was nervous or uncomfortable. It happened a lot in those early days. His stomach clenched. The facets of the gemstones glittered, even under the fluorescent lighting. So bright and shiny, just like her. It was hard to accept that such sparkle could be extinguished, but the doctors all agreed. She still hadn’t awoken from the coma, and, if she remained nonresponsive, there were other complications that could result, ones that may severely impact any hope for a recovery.
“Yes, it’s hers.” He clutched it in his hand. “Thanks.”
Detective Andrews nodded. “I’ll be in touch. Take care of yourself.”
Paul slumped against the wall, raking a hand through his hair. The incessant bleeping, though maddening, kept her from floating beyond his reach. But how much longer could she—
A loud ping interrupted the dismal thought. A text from Alison.
Here’s the number you wanted – 555-657-2839.
He’d asked Detective Andrews not to make the call. To receive this news from a complete stranger — the situation was dire enough without having to hear it from a detective with no answers or assurances. Regardless of how rocky their relationship may have been, Jane was still a mother, and, hearing how her only daughter was clinging to life… No, she needed to hear it from him, the person who loved her more than anything else, one who would lay down his own life in the blink of an eye if it would revive her.
With a heavy heart, he dialed the numbers, his stomach clenching when a woman’s voice answered.
“Hi, is this Jane Hunter?”
“Yes, who is this?”
“My name is Paul Emerson. I’m Avery’s boyfriend.” He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Jane, I’m really sorry, but something terrible has happened.”
THE HALLS OF THE
hospital were desolate. Early morning sunshine peeked through the tall windows. Jane had arrived late the night before, looking as desperate as Paul felt. She’d refused to leave her daughter’s bedside, only vacating briefly to visit the chapel. He tried to convince her to get some rest at a nearby hotel, but it was futile. Not that he could blame her; so much lost time, so many mistakes made. Staying close was the only option… for both of them.
His stomach rumbled loudly, though the thought of food made him cringe. Maybe a little water would help. He bent over a nearby fountain, spotting Evan in the distance. The haggard look on his face made Paul’s throat tighten.
“How is she? Did something happen?” Please, please…
“She’s still unresponsive. It’s not looking good. The damage to her heart was so extensive—"
“Can’t they repair it? Why didn’t they keep her in surgery to
fix
it? We can get the best heart surgeon in the world. I’ll pay any price. Find me the doctor, and I’ll take care of everything—”
“Paul.” Evan’s even voice chilled him to the core. “Her body is too weak to undergo any more surgery right now. She went into cardiac arrest during the procedure, and they brought her back, but performing another operation of that magnitude would kill her for sure. The trauma is too much, and she still hasn’t woken up. You need to be prepared—”
“No!” Paul slammed a fist into the painted cinderblock wall, barely acknowledging the throbbing pain that shot up his arm. “I won’t give up on her! I already made that fucking mistake once, and I refuse to do it again.”
“Look, I know how you feel about her, but there isn’t much more we can do.”
“You’re supposed to save lives! Why the fuck can’t you help her?” He slid to the floor, shoulders slumped, never having felt so alone. “I can’t let go. I have to believe,” he whispered, more to himself than to Evan.
“We did everything we could. I’m so sor—” He looked down at his bleeping pager. “Fuck.”
Paul leaped to his feet. “What’s wrong? Is that about Avery? Tell me what—”
Evan shook his head and raced back to the ICU with Paul on his heels. His heart thundered in his chest.
Oh God, please no. Don’t take her. Just one more chance, please…
“Dr. Emerson!” One of the nurses rushed down the hall, a look of alarm on her face. “You need to get in here now.”
“Stay here,” Evan hissed at Paul.
“No fucking way. I’m coming with you.”
“I said stay.”
“Call the fucking cops. I’m going in.”
Evan shook off the death-grip. “Okay Karen, what hap—” He stopped short in the doorway. “Holy shit.”
Paul pushed Evan aside. “Avery.”
Nurse Karen stood by Avery’s bedside, an incredulous look on her face. “Her pressure dropped again, so I ran in when the alarm sounded. I was afraid she was going to code, and just as I was about to hit the alert button, everything suddenly stabilized for the first time since she arrived. I checked the readings to be sure, and then she woke up, after all those hours. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Avery’s eyes fluttered open. Paul fell to his knees at her bedside, his legs shaky. Those incredibly expressive blue eyes, the ones he’d feared he would never see again, focused on him alone. His prayers hadn’t gone unanswered. It was his second chance —
their
second chance — and he’d be damned to waste it. “Ave. Everything’s going to be okay, baby. You came back to me. I was so scared I’d lost you. God, I love you so much.”
“I love you too,”
she mouthed.
“I’m never letting you go again. I promise to always be right by your side, to take care of you forever. Do you understand me? You saved me, but my life doesn’t mean anything without you in it.”
She nodded, eyes shining with unshed tears.
“Not that I want to interrupt this very emotional reunion, but I’m going to need to examine our wonder patient.”
“Do what you need. I’m staying right here.” Paul’s eyes didn’t leave Avery’s face, everything around them fading to the background of the stark white room. The heaviness in his chest was replaced by the tranquility he’d experienced in the chapel, the same peace Avery brought to his heart and soul. God had brought her back to him. He’d finally listened to the one prayer that mattered most.
Evan snorted. “You really are such a controlling asshole.”
The corners of Avery’s mouth lifted. “
My
controlling asshole,” she murmured.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.”
“
HER TESTS LOOK GREAT
. I’m still amazed she came out of this. It’ll be a long recovery, but she’ll get stronger every day.”
“Thank God.” Paul frowned at his the reflection in the mirror. The damn knot still wasn’t right, and his frazzled nerves made him pull the tie off for the fifth time.
“How was Darryl’s mom?”
“Not good. Even though the cops finally nailed the assholes responsible, she still lost her son. I told her I’m taking care of the funeral expenses. That’ll help, but I have to figure out a way to—”
“There’s only so much you can do.”
“Darryl was a good kid who deserved better than he got. I always told him to come to me if he needed help and I let him down. He tried to save Avery’s life. I owe him.”
“Wow. Love has turned you into some kind of humanitarian, huh? It’s a good look.”
“Thanks.”
“How are you holding up?”
“As good as can be expected. This is the right thing to do. I’m tired of running from the past.”
“It’ll all work out. Good luck.”
“Thanks. Tell Ave I love her, and I’ll see her real soon.”
He clicked off the phone and straightened his tie one last time before leaving the men’s room. It was almost time to get on with his life.
Almost.
Kearney lounged against a marble column in the expansive foyer of Palo Alto City Hall. “You clean up real nice.”
“Yeah, well maybe it’ll distract the press, and they won’t feed me to the wolves.”
A.J.’s ringtone blared, echoing in the domed enclosure. “Christ, this is only going to get worse in a few minutes.”
“Glad you have so much faith in me. Any chance the governor will grace us with his presence?”
“Nope, he’s back in Sacramento. Haven’t heard a peep from him today. But the radio silence won’t last. He’ll be down my throat come tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry, guys. Everything will be just fine.” Kearney linked her arm with Paul’s as they exited the large white stucco building. The press corps lined the sidewalk; news vans and film crews scattered along Hamilton Ave. “Where’s Suze?”
Paul pointed to a petite redhead in a tight black suit barking orders at her lackeys. “Right there.”
Suze spotted them and sprinted over in her stiletto heels. “Okay, Paul, we’ve gone through the script. Stick to the cards. I’ll give a brief intro and then turn it over to you. No questions, just the statement, got it?”
“Yeah.” He took a deep breath. This was it. Whatever happened from here would be out of his hands, and he was finally okay with that.
“I can only do so much damage control. We won’t be able to predict the outcome of your statement. Are you prepared to deal with the fallout?”
“I just want it to be over for good. Besides, I have A.J.’s brilliant legal mind to keep things under control.”
A.J. snorted. “Great. Can’t wait.”
He nodded at Suze. “Let’s do this.”
“You always manage to pull it together.” Kearney winked at him. “This is a little hiccup, nothing else. It’ll all blow over before you know it. It’s okay to not be the one holding all the cards for once. Makes things interesting.”
“I guess it’s finally time to let the other shoe drop.”
Suze adjusted the microphone on the wooden podium. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this morning. Paul Emerson, principal of Blue Coat Capital, would like to make a short statement regarding some recent allegations. He will not be taking any questions.”
The statement was brief. His liability was minimal, but perception was reality. If people didn’t feel he was a trustworthy and reputable investment partner, the funds would tank, taking his company along for the ride.
This was the new beginning he’d prayed for… his life with Avery, free from the past. With her by his side, he could handle anything.
He stepped to the podium. So many pairs of eyes stared back — curious, accusatory, and judgmental. “Three years ago, I formed a partnership with a man named Ray Androtti. We built a venture capital fund called PacWest Partners, which invested in technology startup companies. Several months after making an angel investment in a company called Ocurity, I’d uncovered evidence that the principals were embezzling large sums of money. I had also found out that Ray Androtti had a personal stake in Ocurity and was reaping the benefit of PacWest’s funding. I pulled the plug on the investment immediately following the discovery. Investors were compensated, and I reincorporated a new venture fund, Blue Coat Capital, without Ray Androtti as a partner. I did a lot of things wrong back then. My first mistake was not performing the required due diligence prior to investing. It was an enormous oversight, and, as a result, put my fund and investors in financial jeopardy. My second mistake was not reporting the illegal activity to the authorities. Although I’d ensured the investors weren’t impacted by my gross negligence, I didn’t come forward because I was concerned with tarnishing my reputation and that of my firm. Third, I didn’t handle the dissolution of the partnership with Ray Androtti in a legal and professional manner. I’m not proud of my actions and am prepared to deal with the repercussions, whatever they may be. I hope my lapse in judgment won’t reflect poorly upon the employees of Blue Coat Capital, who work so diligently to ensure the financial success of our investments. We contribute to the best and brightest, those who strive to make the world better, more comfortable, more innovative. To penalize them for my mistakes would be terribly unjust. Thank you again for your time.”