A Case of Love (16 page)

The phone, tucked into Kenzie's purse took that moment to go off. She glared at Brett, mumbling curses under her breath as she made her way to where she'd dropped her purse, digging through it to find her phone. “Yeah, what,” she snapped.

"Yeah, I know him, Ron.” In the next second, her tone changed, her eyes grew wide and then worried. “I'm on my way.” She flipped closed the phone, throwing it back into the black hole of her purse before turning to her cousin. “We're going to have to finish this later. I gotta go."

"What? No, you can't go until you tell me what the phone call was about.” Brett grabbed her arm, stopping her as she tried to walk by him to the door.

"I don't have time...” she began before looking up into his face. “I...I...” tears began to stream down her face and she grabbed his hand. “It's about Gideon..."

Gideon paced back and forth in front of the deserted brownstone house in one of the more decayed neighborhoods in the city. His eyes settled upon every figure that walked the street. His informant was late and he didn't like being here, not so soon after his supposed arrest.

Too many people knew of his arrangement with Tanelli and the fact that the cops had busted the warehouse where “the Dog” did most of his business. Just by being here, he was putting himself in danger.

"This could be a set up,” he said under his breath, hunching over to talk into the tiny microphone that was sewn into his shirt. “I don't like it."

Angelo and another of the Narc detectives, Ricky Lange, were in the van on the other side of the street down by the corner. “We'll give it five more minutes. Then, if we can get this piece of shit van to start, we'll leave. Just keep it cool, Hawk."

"It's not your ass hanging on the line here, Ang,” he hissed, then turned, walking a ways down the block. “Not good, not good,” he muttered, hissing the words as his senses seemed to almost tingle with nerves. Normally, he was cool on undercover, able to extricate himself from any sticky situation imaginable, as he'd proved the other night with...

"No, you aren't going to think about her now, Hawk. It would be suicide.” But it was easier said than done. His brain seemed determined to force him to see her beautiful face every time he closed his eyes. He'd memorized it last night when she lay in his arms, sleeping. So soft and sensual, her skin rosy from his loving, she'd been everything he could possibly ever want.

He sighed, swinging around once more and heading back the other way, unconsciously checking every person who passed him, mostly street toughs and older women on their way back home from work. A homeless man sat on the corner in front of a bar, his worldly possessions bundled into a shopping cart that he rested against.

"He's not coming,” he muttered, glancing over at the rusty van.

"Give him a couple more minutes,” Ricky said through the tiny receiver in his ear.

Why couldn't she have given him a chance to explain? “Oh yeah,” he whispered, “cause I can't keep my fucking hands off of her."

"What?!” Angelo's voice crackled over the receiver. “What did you just say?"

"Nothing.” He closed his eyes for just an instant, taking a deep breath. He had to get a hold of himself, he had to quit thinking about her now.

The sound of squealing brakes had his eyes shooting open just as a long black car came around the corner, swiping the side of the van before bouncing off and heading toward him. The window, illegally tinted, rolled down and the end of a high powered automatic weapon was thrust through it.

"Shit,” he breathed, seconds before the first round spat from the barrel amidst a corona of fire.

Mackenzie stood at the curb waiting as the hotel doorman whistled her up a cab. She bounced on the soles of her feet, her heart racing, the effects of the alcohol gone. “Hurry please,” she called to the man in uniform.

"I'm going as fast as I can, lady,” he said, putting his fingers in his mouth and whistling loudly.

She beat him to the cab door, opening it herself and sliding in. “The hospital,” she said to the cab driver.

"Which one?"

"Monroe City Hospital,” she snapped, wiping the smile off of his face.

The trip took very little time, but enough for Kenzie to sit in the backseat and fret. She could still remember Brett's face as she took off out of his apartment, the shock had been almost comical. She would have to call him...

She threw money at the cabbie as she left the backseat in the hospital parking lot. Hurrying into the Emergency room, she rushed up to the desk. “Gideon Hawkins,” she said quickly to the woman behind the desk when she looked up.

"He's been admitted.” She looked down at her screen. “Fourth floor, room 415."

Mackenzie thanked her offhandedly, and turned, searching for the elevators. Her eyes honed in on a sign and she followed it, slapping her hand on the up button as soon as she reached it. Her mind raced, running from one thought to another, her emotions were in an uproar, worry, regret, sorrow, fear, all tied up in a knot in her stomach. She felt as if she'd throw up.

"Dammit!” she snapped, looking for the door to the stairs when the elevator seemed to take forever. She slammed it open, hurrying up the cement staircase as quickly as she could, only slowing when she reached the door with the huge red four painted across its surface.

"Please let him be all right,” she prayed, opening the door and stepping into the brightly lit hallway. Nurses buzzed up and down in pastel colored scrubs, visitors walked in and out of rooms, the noise seemed almost too loud. Kenzie walked down the hall, searching the numbers on the doors, taking a deep breath when she found the right one.

She pushed it open slowly and stepped into the dimly lit room. Only one of the two beds was occupied and she stepped hesitantly to the side of the bed.

He was so still, his head wrapped in bandages, a small spot of blood staining the white. Tubes hung from a metallic stand, dripping liquid into his arm. A small clip was on his hand, a machine beeping quietly in the corner counting his heartbeat.

"Oh God,” she breathed, sinking into the chair next to his bed. “Gideon, I'm so sorry, please, you've got to be okay.” She reached out, slowly taking his hand and holding it in her own. “I should never have gotten so mad at you.” Her head dropped, tears coming to her eyes as she placed a soft kiss on his hand.

How long she stayed like that, pleading with God for his life, she didn't know, but his groan had her shooting upright, her eyes going to his face. “Gideon?” she breathed.

His eyes opened, blinking blindly before settling on her face. His other hand went to his head and he moaned once more. “What happened?"

"You were shot,” she said softly. “Don't you remember?"

"Shot? No, no I don't remember. When...” He closed his eyes as if in pain.

"This afternoon. You were on a stake out. You really don't remember?” she reached out, touching his face with tender fingers. “It's all right, don't struggle so much, it'll only make your head hurt worse."

"I...I remember us fighting,” he said, searching her eyes.

"It's not important, Gideon. All that matters is that you're okay.” She felt his hand grip hers tighter and smiled tremulously up at him.

"I wanted to tell you I was sorry,” he whispered, his head falling back on his pillow as if too heavy to hold up anymore.

"Don't worry about it, Gideon. Please, just rest.” She stroked his hand, unable to stop touching him.

"I can't, not until I know you've forgiven me.” He moaned softly, his head rolling on the pillow.

"Let me go get the nurse, get you something for the pain.” She began to rise from the chair, starting to pull her hand away from him.

"No!” he said quickly. “No,” he repeated a little slower, pulling her back down on the chair. “I just need to know you forgive me."

"Of course, I forgive you. There's nothing to forgive. You were just worried about me.” She shrugged her shoulders, sitting forward to pull the covers up around him. “Rest baby. I'll stay with you."

"Can I have a kiss?” he whispered, forcing her to lean closer to hear him.

She stood, bending over him, intending to drop a swift kiss to his lips, anything to get him to relax. Instead, his arm came around her waist, holding her to him with more strength than she'd expected him to have.

"Hey Hawk, I got you that chocolate shake and the sub you wanted. I had to really hide them to sneak them in so you owe...” Ang's voice cut off at seeing Mackenzie lying across Hawk's chest.

She wasn't there long, standing up and glaring at Gideon with a look designed to send him six feet under. “You son of a bitch,” she growled, turning on her heel and stalking out of the room without a word to Angelo.

"Wait! Mackenzie, come on. Hold up!” Hawk yelled, trying to free himself from the blankets, ripping out his IV and yelping as the tape yanked the hair out of his arm. “Dammit Mac, give me a chance to explain."

"Oh shit boy, you done something stupid this time,” Ang said, laughter rumbling from his massive chest.

"Shut up!” Hawk growled, pushing past him and out into the hall, catching a glimpse of Mackenzie as she pushed through the door to the stairwell. He started after her, not realizing what kind of view he was giving the people behind him due to the wonder of the hospital gown he wore.

He hit the door, sending it slamming into the wall. “Mackenzie!” he shouted.

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She heard him, heard the echo of her name as it reverberated around her in the closed off stairwell and couldn't go any farther. With a sigh of defeat, she sank down upon the step she was standing on, even as she heard his bare feet on the stair treads above her.

Mackenzie didn't look at him as he slowed when he saw her; instead she kept her eyes upon her hands that were clasped against her lap.

"Mac?” he said softly, standing a step above her.

She glanced up at him then, noting his long legs left bare under the hospital gown that flapped loosely around him. “Were you even shot or was this whole thing some kind of scam to get me to talk to you?"

He sank down beside her, leaving a few inches between them. “This is real,” he said, gesturing to the bandage on his head. “Someone found out about my involvement with Tanelli and set me up. I was ambushed waiting for the same snitch that gave up Tanelli."

"I...I didn't say anything,” Kenzie said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Honestly, Gideon, I promised I wouldn't and I..."

"You didn't. I know that, Mac. You're one of the most honest newspaper people I've ever met. Your integrity wouldn't let you print what you knew about me even if you didn't have a crush on me.” He smiled as she rolled her eyes.

"Do you have any idea who set you up?"

"No, but I will. I also kind of expect to find my snitch end up a floater. We should talk.” He let his hand rest gently upon hers that still sat on his arm, squeezing when she tried to pull away. “Don't please. Let me explain?"

Her thoughts raced, the conviction that he would never understand what drove her to do the job she did prevalent. Finally, she nodded. “Okay."

"God,” he groaned, dropping his head into his hand. “Where to start?"

"Usually at the beginning is a good place."

"Smart ass,” he said, but with no heat in his voice. “Did I ever tell you what my dad did for a living?"

"No, we've never discussed your parents at all,” she said, a quiver in her voice as he lifted her hand, playing with her fingers before twining them in his.

"My dad worked steel. Not those namby-pamby prefab steel buildings but the big ones in New York City... He walked a six inch steel beam hundreds of feet above the ground.” He paused, staring down at their entwined fingers before bringing it up to his lips to kiss the back of her hand. “My mom was a secretary. She worked for a lawyer as his assistant. Her office was across from the building where dad was working."

"Oh God, did she watch him fall?” Kenzie asked, her heart in her throat. If there was one thing she feared above all others, it was heights. She'd do them but she didn't like them at all.

"No,” he smiled, but there was no amusement in it. “He watched her get shot. The man she worked for was a criminal attorney. He was defending a child murderer who was found guilty. The man's son didn't take the verdict so well and came to his office with a gun. Six people were killed that day, my mom was the second. He stood her by the window to the office, in plain view of my father, put the gun to her head and pulled the trigger."

"I'm so sorry Gideon,” she said, unconsciously scooting closer to him so that their thighs were touching. “How old were you?"

"Sixteen and so very full of myself. I don't know how my dad ever put up with me. I wanted to find the man who did it and kill him."

"What happened?” she asked softly.

"The police found him, had him trapped in his father's house. He committed suicide instead of facing charges for what he did,” his tone was bitter and his hand tightened around hers. He glanced down, forcing himself to relax. “That was the day I decided to join the police department. I wanted to be a big shot Homicide Detective, chase the big bad guys and put them in jail. Instead, I ended up in Narco, keeping the streets clean of drugs."

"How did you end up in Monroe City?"

"Dad moved us here after mom's funeral. He couldn't walk steel again and he started having nightmares. So we packed up everything and started to drive. When we got here, dad liked the atmosphere and the ocean so we stayed. I ended up going to Monroe City Community College, dad started working as an accountant. He remarried last year.” Hawk smiled down at her. “All's well that ends well."

"Not quite,” she said, her eyes narrowing at him. “That doesn't explain why you won't let me do my job."

"Actually, it does,” he said, his voice growing cautious. “My dad watched the woman he loved get gunned down right in front of him. I don't want the same thing to happen."

"But...but you don't love me, you barely know me,” Kenzie stuttered, feeling a hint of panic bubbling into her chest. Her eyes met his and the panic overflowed, making her begin to shake.