57. Arden
57
ARDEN
Nora helped me ease onto the couch as more than half a dozen people hovered. Shep and Thea from their spot by the island where a mound of food was piled. Kye in the corner, a hard look on his face that hadn’t left since I’d woken up in the hospital. Rhodes and Anson in chairs opposite, concern even making its way onto the stoic ex-profiler’s face. Lolli and Fallon in the kitchen, working on more food we didn’t need. And Brutus right by my side, like always.
I understood why. Getting shot could get your family riled. Having to undergo a splenectomy on top of it didn’t help. And almost a week in the hospital made us all twitchy.
“Do you need water? Juice?” Rhodes asked, bracing to stand.
“How about this new CBD iced tea I’ve been perfecting?” Lolli asked hopefully.
Shep sent her an exasperated look. “I don’t think now is the time for Arden to be your taste- tester.”
“Why not?” Lolli asked, her hands going to her hips and making the bedazzled pot leaf on her shirt stand out more, along with the script that read: I’d Hit That . “We’ll know if it helps pain. ”
“We’re not mixing your experiments with Arden’s prescription medication, Mom,” Nora clipped, her voice taking on that final air.
Lolli’s gaze cut to me. “You just let me know if you need a little something extra.”
I grinned at her. “I think the shower was good enough for me. Best drug around after nothing but sponge baths for a week.”
Linc’s movement at the windows was slight, an infinitesimal tightening of his jaw, but I didn’t miss it. And the agony from that tiny movement was far worse than the pain in my side. He glanced at his watch and then strode into the kitchen, spilling a single white pill into his hand. Moving to the fridge, he pulled out some of the lemonade Thea had made, knowing it was my favorite.
In a matter of seconds, Linc was lowering himself to the coffee table in front of me and handing over the glass and pain pill. “It’s time.”
“I think?—”
“Doctor said to stay on top of the pain for at least these first few days.”
Linc’s voice was so bleak, I couldn’t bear it. I took the glass and pill, swallowing the medicine down. I knew I had about thirty minutes before it made me feel fuzzy. I both hated and welcomed the sensation. I hated not being aware. Welcomed not having to see all the ways Linc was pulling away.
He was physically present, but emotionally? He might as well have been on a different continent.
It was like he couldn’t process it all, and learning all the ways our lives had been inextricably linked before we even met would be a mind fuck on a good day. But finding out that his father had been responsible for killing my parents and terrorizing me had been more than he could take.
Linc had stayed by my side every moment in the hospital, but that almost made it worse. His quietness and the way he turned inward were a constant slice to my skin, far worse than anything Hannah or Farah had inflicted.
Now that we knew Hannah hadn’t been responsible for Linc’s shooting, she had a better chance of getting the help she so desperately needed. Trace had worked with the county prosecutor to get her into a mental health facility with the appropriate security.
Farah—or Clarissa, as she was really known—was sitting in county lockup and had been denied bail. Her DNA had been linked to two other murder-for-hire cases, and her fingerprints to the theft of a priceless heirloom that had belonged to one of Philip Pierce’s business rivals.
That man was far more twisted than anyone could’ve imagined. He’d begun pulling strings for his own betterment and power but found he had a knack for it. Blackmail, intimidation, murder, all to get the rich and powerful what they wanted most. He was a broker of sorts, and there was nothing he wouldn’t do and no lines he wouldn’t cross.
The FBI was still putting the pieces together, but it appeared as if my dad had met Philip at a political fundraiser. Philip had sensed an opportunity: a judge in his pocket in Boston was something he’d be more than happy to use.
But as the cases Philip asked my father to throw got more serious, Dad got cold feet. Philip didn’t handle the change of heart well, and he wasn’t a man who left loose ends to chance.
“Arden?” Linc’s voice cut into my swirling thoughts like a blade.
He hadn’t called me Vicious once since I’d woken up, and I found I hated the sound of Arden on his lips.
“Sorry,” I muttered.
“You okay?” he asked. The question was gentle. Everything about Linc was gentle these past few days. And I hated that, too.
“Fine,” I lied. “The meds just make me loopy.”
Linc nodded, and I could see his knowledge of my lie in his hazel eyes. He pushed to his feet. “I need to make a call real quick. I’ll be back.”
There were lots of calls, along with the gentleness. I knew they were necessary. He had countless fires to put out with the press getting wind of Philip’s arrest and again when the charges were filed. But as I watched him walk away, I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d ever get back the closeness we once had.
“Don’t let that boy push you away,” Nora whispered .
I turned, taking her in as she lowered herself to the couch next to me. “I can’t force him to talk to me. Can’t force him to let me in.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rhodes said. “Mr. Anti-Color over here was pretty pushy when he wanted to be.”
Anson, who was indeed dressed in only gray and black, glared at her. “I just showed up, and you threw yourself at me.”
Rhodes let out a huff. “Fal softened me up for you.”
“You’re welcome,” Fallon called from the kitchen.
“He’s been through hell,” Nora said softly, her gaze moving to the patio where Linc stood, phone pressed to his ear. “Never seen anyone more ravaged than him when you were wheeled into that trauma bay. Never seen anyone more lost.”
That was Nora, my mom, the woman who could never resist a lost sheep. She always had to bring them into the fold. And more than that, she wanted her kids’ happiness. I reached over, laying my scarred hand over hers. “I love you, Mom.”
Her eyes misted. “Love you, too. And I’ve fallen in love with Linc through you. So, don’t let him run in some misguided attempt to be noble.”
“Okay. But I need one thing first.”
“Anything,” she whispered.
My lips twitched. “I need some help getting off this couch because it’s really freaking hard to stand with these stitches.”
“I got you,” Kye said, his voice gruff as he strode across the room, scarred motorcycle boots eating up the space. He offered his hands, his larger palms engulfing mine, strong fingers hoisting me up.
“Thanks,” I said on an exhale.
Kye met my gaze, the ink on his neck flexing, the wings of the sparrow there almost seeming to flutter with the tension. “Give him hell, Killer. He needs someone who will go into battle with him and not be scared of the demons there.”
It was almost as if Kye were speaking about himself and Linc. And I wanted that for him. I just had to hold on to hope that we could both find it.