46. Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-six
Phoebe
I thought I was dead.
I was certain of it.
His face was the last thing I saw, so in a way, my life had flashed before my eyes in those final moments. And I had been okay with that—content with Deacon’s smile and those shining amber eyes being the last thing I took with me.
When I woke up and discovered I wasn’t in Heaven but in a hospital bed surrounded by all the people I loved, I was more than okay with that.
My hand ached. I looked down, finding it clutched tightly in Deacon’s, and immediately decided to deal with it. After all, I was aching all over, what was one more part?
“Hi,” I rasped.
Deacon shot to his feet, his eyes locked on mine. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. His hand only tightened around mine, and sheer will kept me from wincing.
My mother bent over me on my other side, her lips touching my forehead. “Baby girl. You scared the shit out of us.”
At my feet, my mountain of a brother folded in half, his shoulders shaking. Hannah curled around him, arms wrapped tight, while Cormac rubbed slow, soothing circles on his back.
“I’m okay, Caleb,” I forced out. My throat felt like sandpaper.
As if reading my mind, my mother brought a straw to my lips. I took a sip. The cool water was the best thing I’d ever tasted. When I could finally think past my own thirst, I scanned the room. My father stood beside my mother, one arm around her, the other resting on my knee. My siblings were gathered at my feet. Deacon was still gripping my hand like he might lose me all over again.
“Where’s Hailey?” I blinked up at him. “Is she okay? Did you find her?”
He nodded, but his mouth stayed pressed in a hard line.
“She’s fine.” My mother brushed my cheek with the back of her hand. “Cay and Deke found her on their way to you. She was checked out by an EMT. They gave her a clean bill of health and sent her home with the Spellmans. As soon as I have a minute, I’ll let them know you’re awake. She’s been worried.”
“Good,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. “I was so worried about her.”
Finally, Deacon spoke. “You kept her safe. That was all you.”
“Anyone would have.”
He lifted my hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to my skin. “I’m so damn sorry, sugar. You wouldn’t have been there if—”
“No. Don’t you dare try to take the blame for this.” I pushed myself up as best I could with one working hand and a throbbing head.
“What are you doing?” His eyes widened in panic. “You almost—you gotta lie down, Phoebe.”
I grabbed the front of his shirt. He was wearing hospital scrubs. “Come closer to me, and I will.”
His exhale fanned across my face as he bent over me, pressing gently on my shoulder until I was resting against my pillow again.
I touched his face. “I got through it so I could come back to you. If you try to take yourself away from me, none of it will have been worth it.” His jaw shook as he stared at me with glassy eyes. “I know you were afraid. I was too. But it’s over now. All of it.”
He shook his head like he couldn’t believe I was saying this. “You’re comforting me ? After everything?”
I gave him a tremulous smile. “You look like you need it.”
A raw, pained sob tore from his throat as he dropped his head onto my chest. I stroked his hair, knowing I would never take any of this for granted.
My dad’s warm hand squeezed my knee. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I think so.” I brought my hand to the side of my head, finding a bandage. “He tried to shoot me.”
Images came to me in successive, jarring bursts. The deafening crack of the gun, Deacon’s face in my mind, Richie’s weight crashing down on me, the burning in my scalp, then…nothing. Just darkness until I woke up here.
Caleb slammed the foot of my bed. “We thought you were gone, Phe. There was so much blood, and you weren’t moving.” His face was ravaged. I’d never seen my strong brother so destroyed. “I never wanna see anything like that again. My heart can’t take it.”
Our dad went to him, pulling him into his arms. “We need to take a walk. Catch our breath. Track down the officer who wants Phoebe’s statement.” Dad turned to look at me. “Are you okay if we leave for a minute?”
“I’m good. I promise.”
Dad’s eyes went soft. “You’re always trying to make everyone else feel better, even from a hospital bed. My sweetheart.”
I crinkled my nose to keep from crying. “Love you, Daddy.”
“To the moon, baby girl.”
Dad, Caleb, and Cormac shuffled out. A team of nurses and a doctor entered, buzzing around me, checking vitals and asking questions. They told me I had a concussion and quite a few stitches.
The pain in my head throbbed where I’d hit it, and the burn along my scalp was sharp, but otherwise, I felt...okay.
Not wonderful. But like I’d survive.
Everyone protested, especially Deacon, but I asked them all to leave when I gave my statement to the police, not wanting those details stuck in their heads.
Two officers sat by my bed, listening and taking notes as I went over what happened.
“The door was kicked in, and a man came in yelling. Richie called him”—I searched my foggy memory—“Saint. That was it.”
I described Saint as best I could, though things were hazy and my mind wasn’t quite firing on all cylinders. The officers exchanged glances, and I wondered if my description was more useful than I’d thought.
I swallowed hard. “Saint shot Richie in the leg first.”
I wished those particular memories weren’t as vivid, but I didn’t think I’d ever forget the way Richie had howled. The pain had taken him down to a base level, and the sounds he’d made were inhuman.
“I think—” I chewed my lip, nausea churning in my gut. “I don’t think Saint was really there for the money. He knew Richie didn’t have it. He…shot him in the arm next. Then Richie went for his gun, and Saint put a bullet in his chest.”
Richie had dropped at my feet. I’d thought that was it. He had to be dead.
But then he got back up. Maybe it had been the drugs in his system. Maybe he’d tapped into some hidden inner strength. I’d never know his motivations.
I blinked away my tears and fought through the tightness in my throat. “They shot at the same time. I don’t know if Richie hit him. I…um, think I passed out after that.”
The female officer touched the side of her head. “Did they tell you the bullet went through Richie and grazed you?”
Nodding, I closed my eyes. “I thought that was what happened.”
Her partner let out a low whistle. “You got really lucky. Another inch, and it would have gone in.”
It wasn’t luck. Deep down in my bones, I knew luck had nothing to do with it.
Richie Slater had saved my life.
I didn’t know how to deal with that, so I pushed it away and let sleep take me.
I woke deep into the night, but I wasn’t alone.
Deacon’s hand covered mine, his head resting on my stomach, his breaths slow and steady. I lifted my free hand, threading my fingers through his hair.
“I love you,” I murmured into the dark.
His breath hitched. Slowly, he raised his head, his eyes finding mine, glinting in the low light.
“Say it again,” he croaked.
A soft smile touched my lips. “I love you, honey.”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Never thought I’d hear that again.” His voice cracked. “You were gone, sugar. And I—”
“I’m here, Deke. I’m not leaving you. Not ever.”
He pushed up from the chair, folding over me, cupping the side of my face with his warm, calloused hand. His forehead brushed mine, and for a long moment, he just breathed me in.
“The other guy is dead.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “The guy who killed Richie?”
“Yeah.” He rolled his forehead over mine. “Richie got him in the gut. Guy bled out in his truck after he crashed into a ditch.”
I curled my fingers into his shirt, holding on tight. “I’m trying to figure out if it’s okay to be grateful a man is dead.”
Deacon exhaled, slow and heavy. “Only good thing my brother ever did was put a bullet in that man’s belly. Cops knew who he was—he had connections to a lot of bad people.” His thumb brushed over my cheek. “Now, he has none.”
“Deacon…”
I hesitated, unsure if I should tell him the next thing. Keeping it from him didn’t feel right either, though. He had the right to know. Whatever came next, I’d stand by him through it.
He raised his head, his tired eyes searching mine. “I love you so damn much, you know that?”
“I do.” I touched the stubble on his chin. “There’s something I need to tell you about Richie. I don’t know if you’ll want to hear it, but I’m going to tell you anyway.”
His brow lowered over his eyes. “You think I should know, then I should. You can tell me anything.”
“Okay,” I whispered, rubbing my lips together. “He protected me.”
Deacon jerked back slightly. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he stood in front of me when that other man came in. He wouldn’t let him near me.” I put my hand on the center of my chest. “He shot him right here, and he went down hard. But he got himself back up, Deke. He put himself in front of me when that man shot me, and the bullet went into Richie first. He’s the reason it only grazed me.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He saved me.”
Deacon shook his head. “No. No. He’s not some kind of hero. He put you in that position. Everything that happened after that was all on him.”
“I know, honey. I’m not saying he’s a hero. I hate what he did to me, and I especially hate what he did to you and Hailey. But when it came down to the wire, he did the right thing. It was his final act—he had to know it—and he chose to be brave.” My voice softened. “I just think…you know, maybe there was a tiny bit of good in him, and he finally used it.”
He drove the heel of his hand into his eye. “I can’t take that in right now.”
“You don’t have to.” I patted the space beside me in my bed. “Would you come lie with me? I need you closer.”
His brow furrowed with worry. “I’ll hurt you.”
“No you won’t. My head’s the only thing that got banged up. The rest of me needs you holding me.” I pulled on his hand. “You need it too.”
I expected him to resist. But Deacon surprised me by kicking off his boots and carefully sliding into bed next to me. He lay on his side, his arm curling around my middle, his warmth comforting me, his head resting on my pillow.
Turning, our noses brushed. “I thought of you. When it was almost over, I pictured your smile.”
His throat worked around a tight swallow. “It’s gonna be a while before you get one of those out of me.”
“I hope not.” I slid my fingers between his and held on. “I didn’t want to leave you, but in the last moments, I wasn’t afraid because I had you in my mind.”
A broken exhale escaped him before he pressed his face into the crook of my neck, his breath shaky against my skin. “I don’t think I’m ready to take that in either.”
“That’s okay.” I squeezed his hand. “We have time now.”
A pause. Then, so quiet, I almost missed it, he whispered, “It’ll never be enough.”
Maybe not. Maybe a lifetime together would always feel too short, but that was all we had, and I wouldn’t waste a second of it.