Uncontrollable (50 page)

Parker sighs. “You know I have no control over that
tape.”

 “Why not?” I snap losing my temper. “You were an
officer involved. It’s your fucking tape! My wife was involved. I have every
right to see the fucking tape,” I shout. “And if I don’t, then call the fucking
DA. Call someone and make it happen,” I say trying to lower my voice not
wanting Angel to hear me.

 I’m a defense attorney. I don’t have many friends
that are cops or higher up in ranking. They tend to frown upon the ones who
keep the criminals
out
of jail.

 We stand in the hallway as if in stand-off when
Parker finally speaks. “It’s illegal for me to show you the tape,” he argues.

 “I don’t give a fuck!” I grind out. “Make it
happen,” I snap.

 He stares me down for a few seconds as if that’s
gonna make me change my mind about seeing it. “I’ll make the phone call,” he
finally says as his shoulders slump.

Once Parker gets off of the
phone and I tell Angel that I am going to go home and grab a few things for her
and myself, we all head up to the police station. I knew he could see the tape.
His car has a camera that records all the time, he just has to sign off on it
is all. They keep track of who views what. Technically I’m not supposed to see
it and Angel’s accident isn’t an open case. But this is how you make things
happen. You have friends who will bend the rules and tell white lies to do what
is needed.

The three of us sit in a back office where no one
can see or hear us. I place my elbows on a desk and lean down placing my head
in my hands. I run them down over my face. Last time the three of us were in a
room together watching a tape of Angel, she had been taken. Now I don’t know
what to expect.

“Are you sure about this?” Parker speaks pulling me
out of my daze.

 “Yes,” I snap. “Just play the fucking thing,” I
mumble.

 He sighs and his shoulders slump, but he pushes a
button on a remote and the screen in front of us comes to life.

 The first thing I see is the back of my Chevy
truck. The brake lights come on as if she thinks the light in front of her is
going to turn red.

 She goes through the stoplight. It happens so
fast, I jump back as if someone shoved me. A black truck comes speeding across
the intersection and hits the back driver side of the truck. It sends the
truck’s rear-end to the right, where the back tire catches the high curb. And
it starts to roll. If the truck hadn’t been lifted, it might not have rolled.
But with it being so far off the ground and with the momentum from the other
truck, there was nowhere for it to go but to turn over.

We all stand there watching helplessly once again
as my truck rolls several times. I can here Parker’s voice yelling inside of
his police car as his tires squeal and he comes to a quick stop.

Just then I hear a door open and then Parker is
running in front of the police car, in view of the camera. He runs up to our
truck stomping on glass and pieces of what have broken off of the truck.

He kicks in the already broken back glass and
disappears into the truck. You can hear his ragged breathing, and he continues
to talk to someone from dispatch on the radio connected to his chest.

 “Samantha?” Parker yells. It’s clear that whatever
he is seeing is not good. The fear in his voice is evident. “Hang on, Sam.”

I stand here as he continues to speak. From the
angle of his cop car you can’t see them inside of the truck but you can hear
every word from the microphone on his uniform.

 I hear more glass breaking. “Christ,” he hisses.
“Sam, open your eyes,” he demands. “Come on, Sam, look at me.”

 Why isn’t she speaking to him?

“You have to look at me,” he pleads with her, and
it has my heart pounding in my chest. Why won’t she look at him? Why doesn’t she
open her eyes?

“Sam,” he shouts. Then he lets out a deep breath.
“Good. Very good, Sam. I need to get you out. Do you understand? I’m gonna have
to pull you out through the windshield.”

I run a hand down my face and I sigh when I realize
she has opened her eyes.

“I need a fucking jacket,” he yells all of a
sudden, and I refrain from jumping at his tone of urgency.

 Someone tosses a jacket into the cab and then he
speaks. “I’m going to place this over you, so I can kick the windshield out.”

 I still don’t hear her say anything. But seconds
later I hear him grunting and the sound of his boot hitting the glass.

“Stay with me, Sam,” he yells.

 And then it happens, she screams. Her voice comes
through the audio, and it rips my heart to shreds. It’s a cry of pain. He must
have tried to move her because her scream is followed by his frustrated voice.

“Where in the fuck are the paramedics?” he snaps.

I faintly hear someone yell, “On their way. Get her
out of there.” They must be on the other side of the truck and we can’t see
them from it being on its side.

 “I’m trying, the steering wheel is crushing her,”
he says through gritted teeth.

I pry my eyes away from the screen and look over to
Parker standing next to me. He’s looking down at the floor as if it’s too hard
for him to relive what he went through just four days ago. Maybe the only
reason I can watch it is because I know she’s survived it.

Then my eyes snap back up to the video when his
voice speaks again. “Sam?” I hear him rustling around, then I hear a tearing
sound. “Don’t pass out on me!” he demands. “Stay awake. Can you do that for
me?”

I place my hand over my mouth trying to hold back
the noises that I want to let out.

 “I’m gonna make this as fast as I can,” he says
sounding determined. I hear other voices talking to him. He barks off some
orders, and I swallow when I hear a faint sound of sirens in the distance.
“Just a few seconds,” he says. “Open your eyes goddamn it!” he demands again
frantically.

 There’s some more grunts, and he curses a few
times and then he’s there, on the screen once again, walking her away from the
truck. By this time you can see black smoke coming from the distance and people
screaming things off in the distance as he places her on the ground.

 He places his fingers on her throat and then leans
down placing his ear on top of her lips.

He pulls back quickly and then his hands are on her
chest, and he starts compressions. “You have to stay with me, Sam. They are
almost here,” he yells.

 “Come on, Sam. Don’t do this. Come on,” he pleads
with her as she continues to lie there; not moving.

The room continues to fill with his heavy breathing
and then he’s sniffing. He does it for about half a minute when he checks her
pulse again.

 Then things get even crazier. An ambulance comes
to a stop in the street. The medics rush to her side. They place a monitor of
some sort on her chest as Parker frantically explains what happened and that
she’s unresponsive and not breathing. A medic then places a breathing tube down
her throat while another works squeezing a bag. Another places a collar around
her neck. Once they all finish they roll her onto a flat board and strap her
down. They all help in lifting the board and placing in onto a stretch before loading
her into the back of the ambulance.

“I’m riding with you,” Parker says as he wipes his
nose with the sleeve on his uniform that is covered in her blood.

 “Sorry, but you can’t,” a younger male paramedic
responds placing his hand on his chest.

 He snaps as he shoves his hand away. “She is my
best friend’s wife. She is thirteen weeks pregnant, and I just dragged her out
of that truck and had to do compressions. I’m not fucking leaving her side,” he
screams before he spins around and jumps up into it before they can say
anything else to him.

Parker gets my attention as he raises the remote
beside me to shut it off. And I try to remember what I saw…“Stop,” I say
quickly making Tate jump beside me. I think we are all in some sort of daze.

 “Rewind it,” I order.

 “No.” Tate’s voice cracks. “I can’t watch that
again.”

 Parker pauses it once again, and I spin around and
yank the remote out of his hands. I aim it at the TV and press rewind to the
very beginning.

 “No. You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Tate
growls from beside me when he sees where I’ve paused it.

 There it is right in front of us. The old beat up
black truck that hit my Chevy. It’s the same fucking black hood that was in the
video of her from the parking lot that night at Larry’s.

“Whose truck is that?” Parker demands fisting his
hands down to his side.

I look at him. “Have you got anything back from the
body?”

He shakes his head. “The truck had a stolen tag.
And we’re still waiting on the results from the body they recovered.”

I shut the TV off and throw the remote down before
I spin around and storm out the door.

“Where are you going?” Parker demands as I make my
way through the police station ignoring all the looks that I’m catching from
other officers.

“Back to my wife,” I say as my jaw tightens. “She
was wrong. Someone is not after me, they are after her.”

 Parker runs up next to me. “I’ll have an officer
placed at the hospital. Outside her door.”

I nod. “Take that tape and show it to Brad.” Brad
and I are as close as officers and defense attorneys come. He helped us out
back when she was attacked outside of Larry’s when Officer White had called to
tell me they had arrested the man who broke into our house.

 I come to an abrupt stop in the parking lot, Tate
practically running into me. I spin around and face Parker heart pounding and
ears ringing.

“What?” he looks around the parking lot quickly.

“Officer White,” I say breathless. “No fucking
way.” I shake my head.

“What? Who’s Officer White?” Tate asks.

 I point to Parker. “You said that house we found
her at belonged to someone named White?” I ask and he nods. “Officer White was
the one who called and told me they had arrested the man who broke into our
house.” I shake my head. “But he had been wrong and released the guy and did
not inform me. Brad was the one who informed us of the guy’s release.”

Parker frowns. “Did Sam ever say what the officer’s
names were at Larry’s the night she had Jeremy arrested?”

 I shake my head. “We never fucking asked only
Officer Howard’s name was on the file,” I growl.

“Shit!” he hisses.

 “Let’s go,” Tate hollers taking off once again to
his truck.

“I want Brad to watch the surveillance from the
night at Larry’s when she was taken. Show him it’s the same truck and have them
begin an investigation,” I order over my shoulder now running to Tate’s truck.
I need to get back to her.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

I’ve been in the hospital
for a week, and I am about to go out of my mind. I continue to feel pain but
it’s tolerable. The baby has been monitored around the clock and is doing
great. I have actually started getting up and walking around my room. I’m still
hooked up to several machines, and I look like I was attacked with a baseball
bat but other than that, I feel pretty good.

I keep telling them that I’m fine and that I would
feel even better if I could relax from my bed at home. They don’t believe me.

Slade left my side only once so far during my stay.
He said he was going to go home to get some stuff but when he came back, he had
nothing but questions.

I answered them the best I could. Letting him know
that it was Officer White who had supposedly arrested Jeremy. He then started
cussing up a storm as he called someone and started barking orders.

He is bitchier than the nurses. I actually think
they would release me just so he would leave as well. But he says I’m not ready
to leave the hospital. Three days ago, I would have agreed with him. The first
couple of days I was out of it. The pain meds kept me pretty sedated. I don’t
even remember the first day at all. I just remember waking up at one point in
time and seeing Slade, Holly, and Micah standing in my room.

Holly in tears as she sat beside me and the guys
off in the corner talking quietly. It’s been an emotional week to say the
least. Missy hasn’t left the hospital. If she’s not in my room, she’s in the
waiting room sleeping across chairs placed together. I know this, because Tate
had sent a picture to Slade when he went to leave the other night and found her
out there. I think it’s really starting to get to him that she acts as if he
doesn’t even exist.

Vivian and Mark come in and out. Since Slade is not
at work, I think Mark is having to pick up the slack even though he assures me
that that’s why he hired Braxton in the first place.

Then there’s Parker. He brought me a huge bouquet
of roses and a big stuffed teddy bear that he got from the gift shop. He also
informed me that that was not the only thing he picked up. Only Parker could
get a date at a hospital. Slade had told me that Parker saved my life and for
that I’m forever grateful. This morning I woke up to Slade standing outside
speaking to an officer who seems to always be standing outside my door now when
I found Parker and I were alone. I thanked him for saving me and our baby. He
looked very uncomfortable and shifted in his seat before he said that he was
just doing his job. And although I know his job is to help people, it doesn’t
make what he did any less heroic.

I overhear Slade and Parker talking by my door as I
surf the channels while I lay in my hospital bed.

“It’s an active investigation now,” Parker informs
Slade.

I watch as Slade fists his hands down by his side.
“How did they know where she was at?” he snaps.

Parker shrugs. “Maybe they waited for her? She
wasn’t even a mile from your guys’ house.”

 Slade turns to look at Tate as he walks up. “Where
was my truck taken after the accident?” he demands hatefully.

“It’s at the junkyard right outside of town,” Tate
answers with a frown.

“Go and check it out,” Slade demands immediately.

Tate looks to Parker and then back to Slade. “What
am I looking for?”

 Slade runs a hand over his messy hair. “Anything,”
is all he says.

Tate nods before he turns away and walks off.

“Any word on White?” Slade asks Parker.

 He shakes his head. “Nothing, he has vanished as
well as Howard.”

“Of course. Motherfucker,” he hisses under his
breath.

I try to sit up and inhale sharply when I get an
instant pain in my left side. They spin around to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” Slade asks concerned.

 I shake my head trying take a shallow breaths
trying to let the pain settle down. Once it does, I try to give them a smile.
“I’m fine.” I wave a hand. “What are you guys talking about?” I ask once I’m
situated. “What’s an open investigation?”

Slade walks over to me and sits down. He grabs my
left hand and sighs. “The man who hit you? You know how I told you he didn’t
make it?”

I nod my head. That poor family. I feel responsible
that he hit me and lost his life.

“It wasn’t an accident,” he states with a hard
look. “The guy driving the truck was Jeremy.”

 Jeremy? How would he know something like that?
“How do you know that?”

“It was the same truck that Jax jumped out of when
he picked you up outside of Larry’s.” He lets out a long breath. “And we got
confirmation last night. Dental records confirmed it was him.”

My eyes widen. “Oh my God, he was after you,” I say
panicking.

Slade shakes his head.

 “Yes. He was. I was in your truck. He was trying
to kill you, Slade.”

 “Angel,” he says softly. “Someone is trying to
hurt me by taking you away from me.”

I let out a breath and place my hand over my mouth.
“But I promise you. It’s not going to happen. Not again. Do you understand me?”
he asks but all I can think of is that someone wants to take his child and wife
away from him.

“Angel?” he demands. “Do you understand me? You
will be safe. We have all seen to that.”

I nod my head, and I lick my lips nervously. I
trust Slade. If there’s one thing I know, he will take down whoever threatens
us.

They are releasing Angel
from the hospital today. It’s been ten days since the accident, and she’s doing
better than they could have imagined. She’s up and around, using the restroom
on her own, and the baby is doing great as well. She will be limited on what
she can do once she leaves though; no driving, lifting heavy things, stuff like
that.

I sit in this uncomfortable fucking chair as I
watch her and Missy laugh about what she should name the bakery when the doctor
walks in to check her over before releasing her.

I stand when I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket.
“Can you give me one second?” I ask the doctor, needing to take this call. The
call I’ve been waiting on for three days.

“Hello?” I answer, walking outside of her door.

“I found it,” Tate’s voice calls out. “I fucking
found it,” he growls.

 
Son of a bitch
. It was a long shot but
there had to be something in that truck to let us know how they knew where she
was at. “What is it?” I ask rubbing my forehead.

 “It’s some sort of tracking device,” he calls out.
“It looks like it might have had more pieces to it but I can’t find them. They
must have been swept up from the accident. I had enough of it to contact a
friend and he did some digging. I just got the call, and he confirmed it.”

My jaw clenches, and my hand tightens on my phone.
“I need to call you back,” I growl. “The doctor is here to release your sister.
I’ll call you when I get her settled back at home,” I say before I go to hang
up.

“Wait,” he shouts.

 “Yeah?”

“Slade think about it,” he says quickly. “Jax told
her someone is always listening or watching. Jax knew your house was broke
into…”

“What are you trying to say, because I’m not
catching on?” I snap.

“Your truck was broke into and nothing was taken.
They placed a tracking device in it. Your house was broke into…”

“Nothing was taken,” I state starting to see what
he’s trying to say.

 “Don’t take her there, Slade. Not until you have
that place searched,”

I look down at my watch to see it’s a little past
ten in the morning. “Call Parker and you both meet me at my house around
three,” I say and then hang up.

After having to spend hours
persuading Angel to go to my parents’ house to stay for a while, I find myself
pulling up to our house.

“Three?” Tate asks looking down at his watch with
Parker standing next to him.

 “Yeah. Well, you try to explain to your sister why
she can’t go home without scaring the shit out of her,” She has had enough
happen to her to last a lifetime. I wasn’t going to tell her that her truck had
a tracking device on it, and the house might be bugged as well.

“So, what did you end up saying?” Parker asks.

“Termites,” I answer.

 They both burst out laughing, and I look at them.
“You’re serious?” Tate asks smirking.

I nod. “Of course. Those things are a bitch.”

Parker shakes his head as we enter the house. “This
house is huge,” he whines. “How in the fuck are we supposed to find something
so small?”

 “If you were someone who wanted to keep an eye on
her. Where would you place a camera?” I ask arching an eyebrow,

 “The bedroom,” they both answer in unison.

That thought sickens me but it is the most
plausible place. “Then that’s where we’ll start.”

We take every single thing apart. The bed. The
mattresses, dressers. The TV and pictures off the wall. Anything that’s in
there, we remove it from the room. Hours later I’m pissed and relieved that
nothing’s been found.

“Could the guy have even been in here?” Tate asks
looking around.

“Yeah. When I woke up she was already up and in the
office. I ran into her in the hallway and then I pushed her back into the
office. They had time to come in here,” I assure them.

 “Did you check the window sills?” Parker asks
nodding to them.

“Yes,” Tate answers.

I place my hands on my hips and continue to look
around at the now empty room. “Maybe we were wrong…”

 “Guys,” Parker says getting our attention.

 I look at him, and he motions to the ceiling above
us. “What?” I ask looking at the white ceiling.

 “The ceiling fan,” Parker says, and my eyes slam
to it.

“We can’t reach it,” Tate says. “The ceiling’s too
high. They wouldn’t be able to place anything up there.”

I look from the ceiling down to the floor. He does
have a point. But if the bed was back where it belonged… Could someone?

I walk out of the bedroom to my office and then
make my way back to the bedroom once I get what I needed.

They both take a step back when I walk in with the
baseball bat. I swing it upwards hitting the ceiling fan. It takes several
times before pieces of it start to fall, and we spot the one thing we’ve been
looking for. There attached to the base of the ceiling fan is a little camera
of some sort. No bigger than my pinkie. Can’t fucking believe it!

“Could there be more?” Parker asks fisting his
hands down by his sides having a problem controlling his own temper.

“I know he was in the kitchen because he had broken
a vase of hers.” How fucking stupid was I? Nothing was stolen my ass! Our
privacy was stolen.

 I tighten my hand around the bat and speak. “Let’s
go see.” I’m in the mood to do some more swinging.