Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Look at him. On Sunday, Gin stood in the hospital room doorway. As her eyes filled and spilled over with tears, the man in the bed blurred. Sobs rose, fast and hard, and Gin covered her mouth, trying to muffle the ugly sounds.
Sawyer heard and looked up. “Ms. Virginia.” He took a second look and his brow creased. “Aw, now don’t do that. No crying.” He made a helpless gesture. “Listen, this is a no-crying zone, woman.”
She giggled through her hiccupping and wiped her face. “Bless your heart; you’re more scared of a woman crying than rioting inmates.”
“Isn’t everyone?” he said under his breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to see how you were. I-I thought—” Tears again. For heaven’s sake, she wished the emotional roller coaster would stop. Taking a seat on the bed, she swiped her face and cleared her throat. Her voice still came out hoarse. “For hours, I thought you were dead.”
There’d been so much blood on the grass. His eyes had been open. Unblinking. She shuddered, feeling the grief sweep her again.
“Shit. I didn’t realize you saw me.” He squeezed her arm briefly, then ran his hand over his short hair in a way that reminded her of Atticus. “I was down; couldn’t move. But Slash would have cut my throat if he thought I was alive. It’s how he got his handle, right?”
She nodded. The information had been in the inmate’s workup. “You faked it.”
“Yep. I rolled onto my front to try to hide that I was still gushing blood.”
“Well. All my mourning gone to waste.” Her smile wavered.
“It’s appreciated.” His expression said he meant it.
“I hear the governor valued your actions. He’s wiping out the rest of your sentence?”
“When this hit the news, the gov got pressure to shortcut the process. And he’s coming up for re-election.” Sawyer shook his head in wonder. “I’ll be a free man. You have no idea how damned fantastic it feels.”
“You deserve this,” she said softly. “Thank you for my life, Sawyer.”
“You know, I can’t fix my mistake and bring Ezra back, but maybe I helped balance things a bit.”
“Sawyer, you—”
“So.” He shifted uncomfortably and—typical man—changed the subject away from anything emotional. “What’s been happening at the prison? You keep up with the gossip?”
She let him have his escape. “Some. Jacob Wheeler has a cracked rib and a concussion, but is home. His sister says he’s already so grumpy she thinks he should get his butt back to work tomorrow.”
Sawyer barked a laugh, groaned, and clutched his side. “Fuck.”
“Sorry. By the way, he also has a private practice if you want to remain with him.”
Sawyer hesitated. Nodded. “Yes.”
“I’ll leave his phone number with you.” He’d keep up the counseling; progress would continue.
Pulling in a relieved breath, Gin continued with the gossip.
“Physically, Karen is all right. Mentally—that will take time. Virgil—he’s a lieutenant in Bear Flat—says the warden will probably be replaced after an investigation.
Apparently, some of the correctional officers were slow to respond, whether from bribes or because a riot earns them extra pay. ”
“That’s ugly. Atticus mentioned a counselor was involved?”
“She’s been arrested for aiding and abetting the escape. Her license will be revoked.”
“Crazy woman.” His keen gaze took her in. “And you? You going to be able to return to the prison after this?”
She shook her head. “If—if I had to, I could tough through it, but I wasn’t happy there. I miss working with families and children. Jacob Wheeler offered me a place in his private practice. I can go back to doing what I love.” Hearing children laughing. Bringing people closer together.
“Good deal.” He eyed her cautiously. “With the kidnapping and those assholes, maybe you should…see someone.”
Aww. Her heart warmed. If he could see past his own problems to someone else’s, he was really on the road to recovery.
“You’re right. I’ll be on workman’s comp for a while, so I’m flying to San Diego where I spent a year after getting my Masters.
I can stay with friends and see someone who specializes in after-trauma cases like mine. ”
“Good enough.”
“I…” She chewed her lip for a second and offered, “I’d already sent in a report about Slidell. Now, with an investigation of the mental health department’s involvement in a prison break and with my concerns about him on record, I doubt he’ll be working there much longer.”
Sawyer’s smile flickered. “Good.”
She patted his hand. “How about you? Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
“I’m considering my options as well. Att gave me a few ideas.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Ms. Vir—nah, if you’re messing with my brother, I get to call you Gin.”
She could feel her cheeks heat. Messing with. But he was right. “Yes. Call me Gin.”
“Good enough.” He studied her. “What’s going on with you two, anyway?”
“We’re”—messing wasn’t a word she was going to use, thank you very much—“seeing each other.” She grinned. “I saw him yesterday. He was banged up, bruised, scraped, and all he complained about was the paperwork.”
“Bet he’s getting grief all right, but nothing a few forms can’t overcome.”
“He didn’t mention having trouble.” She scowled. “For what?”
“He took civilians with him after escaped convicts.” Sawyer made a disgusted noise. “Because being a superhero, he should’ve rescued you alone, right? Even worse, he took Fido to a gunfight.”
“Fido’s name is Trigger, thank you very much. And he’s going to be impossible to live with. He was already conceited.”
“Must be quite a dog. I hope I’ll get to meet him. Damned if that isn’t a good thing to be able to say.”
“And to hear. Come by anytime.” Gin patted his hand. “You’ll be welcome.”
A tap, tap, tap came from the door.
Sawyer tilted his chin toward Sunny, who stood in the doorway. “I think Blondie wants to tell you that your time is up.”
“I have to catch a plane. Bless you, Sawyer; thank you for my life.”
He only managed a nod; she hadn’t expected more.
Straightening her shoulders, she headed out. Time to face her fears.
Fuck, he hated motel rooms. Stuck in Sacramento for the investigative cleanups, Atticus felt like putting his fist through the hotel room wall. When he wasn’t answering inane questions for every bureaucrat in California, he was filling out reports for them.
Next time there was a prison riot, he’d dump the paper-pushers in with the inmates; before nightfall, even hardened convicts would be begging to go into solitary.
Time for a treat. He fast-dialed Gin’s number as he had every night since she’d been gone.
“Atticus?” The delight in her voice almost did him in.
“Gin.”
“How are you doing?” They both spoke the question at the same time.
Her laugh made him smile. “I’m fine. And you? Aren’t you supposed to be at the capitol today?”
“I am.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully. He’d talked with enough abused women to know she wasn’t fine. But he’d give her the play and circle back. Maybe show her how honesty was done. “The trip down almost killed me—felt like I was being stabbed every time we hit a damned bump.”
“Oh Lordy, I know. Me too.”
Sunny and Kallie had taken her to see Sawyer on the way to catch her flight to San Diego. They’d told him about the way she’d winced with every jolt. How stiffly she walked. And yet, his little magnolia had detoured to check on Sawyer in the hospital. How could he not love her?
"Are you all right though?” she asked.
He rested his back against the headboard and ignored the shit-bland artwork on the wall. “Almost back to normal.” The docs had said nothing was busted, after all. Inflamed, irritated, a few rips here and there.
“I still can’t believe you survived diving off that rock. When I realized… You’re lucky I didn’t smack you upside the head for doing something so crazy.”
Yeah, he’d rather thought she’d been considering it. “Was worth it.” When he thought of her in the hands of those bastards, he still felt as if he’d explode with anger. And fear. “When are you coming back from San Diego?”
“After my last session on Friday.”
“Seems too fast to be through all the therapy.”
“I’ll continue with someone in Sonora every week or two for a while, but honestly, I’ve worked through a lot of the aftereffects already. This type of therapy is like seeing a horror flick over and over until it doesn’t have any effect.”
Sounded fucking awful. And no therapy would erase his memory of her with a weapon pointed at her back. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Oh, honey, you have. Aside from rescuing me, just knowing there are good men, like you, makes a big difference.” She laughed. “And having all the awesome sex before, well…”
Relief eased the constriction around his chest. Damn, she was a strong woman. One who’d hold up against anything life had to offer. “Then I’ll see you Friday.” He hesitated. “It’s probably best if we skip the BDSM camping trip this weekend. You shouldn’t—”
“I should,” she said firmly. “I’ve been looking forward to it. I know you agreed to help with the setup in the afternoon, so Sunny and I will drive up together, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Virginia, I’m not sure—”
“Don’t you go all Dom on me, Atticus Ware.” Her laugh was delightful. “Because it makes me hot, and I’m way too far away.”
He could hear the breathiness in her voice. The heat. “In that case, I’ll call you tomorrow—and see you at the camp on Friday.” Where he’d make his little subbie pay for the erection she’d given him.