Chapter 22
22
COURT
As I came to, it felt as though the world was bouncing beneath me, and I couldn’t stop it. My head swam in a haze of confusion, and some sort of beeping sounded in the background.
When I finally managed to open my eyes, everything was blurry. A faint light pulsed above me, and shadows moved around the edges of my vision. Then a sharp pain hit the side of my head, a sickening throb that made me nauseous. I winced, squeezing my eyes shut again, trying to block it out.
“Hey, stay awake,” a voice said. It was loud. Like someone was trying to pull me out of a dream. “Courtland, can you hear me?”
I struggled to answer because my tongue felt heavy in my mouth. I swallowed, trying to soothe my dry throat. Lifting my hand, it felt sluggish as I reached across my body, like it wasn’t mine. My fingers brushed against something damp, and I became vaguely aware that my side was wet and my shirt was sticking to my skin. I remembered the stinging pain of being shot while trying to protect Ryan.
“Ryan,” I tried to say, but it came out hoarse. My eyes opened again but I still couldn’t see clearly.
“You’re okay. You’re in an ambulance. Just try to stay awake for me.”
Stay awake? Why did I need to stay awake?
It felt like my heart was beating at a different rhythm than the beeping sound I could still hear in the background, or maybe it was the other way around. I couldn’t tell. The world tilted when I tried to focus.
I blinked hard, trying to make sense of the things around me, but everything spun faster.
“You were knocked out for a bit,” the voice continued. A paramedic? “You probably have a concussion.”
“Ryan,” I tried to say again. “Is he?—”
“Just breathe, Courtland,” the voice urged. “Take it slow. We’ll get you patched up soon. The bullet just grazed your shoulder, and you took a good whack on the head. We’re almost there.”
Almost where? I wanted to ask, but my thoughts were moving too slowly to form the question. I closed my eyes, hoping the dark would help me focus, but the pressure in my head wouldn’t let up. Everything in me wanted to go back to sleep, to escape the dizziness, the confusion, the pain.
The ambulance jerked to a stop, the sudden motion sending a jolt through my head. My whole body tensed, but the agony in my skull flared, making me gasp.
“Stay with me, Courtland. We’re here.”
The gurney shook as they took me out of the ambulance. The movement was jarring, but the throbbing in my head overshadowed everything. It felt like my head was about to explode. The earth was spinning too fast—no, not spinning, tilting like I was falling sideways and couldn’t stop it.
“Let’s get him into bed three,” an unfamiliar voice ordered.
I couldn’t keep track of where I was. The lights overhead flashed by too quickly, too bright. The walls of the hospital felt like they were closing in. The air was thick with the sterile smell of antiseptic, but it only made the nausea grow stronger. I couldn’t breathe properly, couldn’t catch my breath.
The stretcher stopped, the abrupt halt sending another wave of dizziness crashing over me. I felt the pressure in my head spike, and the darkness that had been hovering at the edges of my vision crept in a little closer.
I felt hands lifting me, repositioning me. Something wrapped around my arm.
“Blood pressure is a little low,” someone said. “Let’s start an IV, get him stabilized.”
Stay awake , I told myself, but it was hard. Every part of me wanted to surrender, to slip into the dark space where the pain and confusion couldn’t touch me. But I couldn’t. I needed to know if Ryan was okay.
“Ryan?” I tried to ask again. Did the words even leave my mouth?
I felt something cold press against my arm. An IV needle? I wasn’t sure. I still couldn’t focus.
“Get him on a monitor,” another voice instructed.
Several people still moved around me, pulling at my shirt, and adjusting my arms. Cold patches were placed on my skin, and then a sharp beeping filled the room. Someone lifted my eyelids and flashed a bright light into my eyes.
“His pupils are equal and reactive. He’s conscious, but barely. Let’s keep pushing fluids in him. And let’s start a round of antibiotics. Does anyone have a medical history on this guy?”
I couldn’t process the words. Conscious? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t feel conscious. I felt like I was drifting in and out of reality.
“Let’s also check out his head wound and see if he needs stitches while we patch up his shoulder.”
Everything tilted again, and I felt myself being tugged under like I was sinking into quicksand, everything slipping away.
No. Stay awake. I tried to tell myself again. A hand pressed to my arm, maybe to reassure me, but it only felt cold. Distant. Like I wasn’t there.
And that terrified me.
Sometime later, I could finally keep my eyes open. The commotion around me had stopped and everything seemed quiet. Maybe too quiet. The stillness helped with my pounding head so I didn’t mind, but my thoughts were no longer hazy. What had happened was replaying in my head.
I looked around to get someone’s attention. I needed to call Dalton. Needed him to get me my burner phone so I could check on Ryan because I didn’t have Ryan’s number memorized. Hell, I needed someone to tell me he was okay.
A man stepped into the small room I was in. He was wearing a suit, and I instantly knew he was a cop. He closed the sliding glass door behind him.
“Detective Wilder, I’m Lieutenant LeBlanc with Royalston Police Department.”
It registered he’d called me Detective Wilder and not Court West, and I furrowed my brow.
“I spoke with Detective Sinclair before the shootings and he explained you were undercover working on a drug case related to the deceased Donnie Pierce.” I nodded as he spoke about Dalton relaying the info to him. “I’m imagining the case is still moving forward?”
“Absolutely,” I replied without hesitation. My voice was scratchy, and I needed water badly.
“I won’t ask questions about your ongoing investigation until it’s over, but I need you to tell me everything you can that relates to mine with Mr. Pierce’s shooting and the fugitive Joseph Hughes.”
I told Lieutenant LeBlanc everything I knew about Hughes shooting Donnie and then me shooting Hughes at the same time I jumped in front of Ryan. LeBlanc relayed that not only was Donnie dead, but so was Hughes. I’d shot him in the head with both bullets. Bits and pieces remained a blur, but mostly, I remembered everything. In my account of the event, I specifically asked LeBlanc not to release Donnie’s name. I was hoping to keep his death quiet, so nothing would get back to his people in Boston and the shipment would still go through as planned.
“What about Ryan Ashford?” I asked.
“He and his sister were taken in for questioning.”
“They committed no crimes,” I stated.
LeBlanc nodded. “We are well aware. They will probably be released soon.”
I wanted to ask him if I could call Ryan, but given I was still undercover, I wasn’t about to tell him I was dating or concerned about a witness. “And they know nothing about my involvement other than I shot Hughes?”
“As far as I know, but if they mention anything in their interviews, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you.” How was I going to explain having a gun to Ryan?
A knock on the glass door got my attention. Glancing over, I saw Dalton holding up a fast-food bag. I motioned for him to come in, my shoulder protesting with the movement.
“This is Lieutenant LeBlanc,” I said to Dalton as he stepped inside.
“Ah.” Dalton stuck out his free hand. “Detective Sinclair. We spoke on the phone.”
“Nice to put a face to the voice.” They shook. “I’ve got what I need from Detective Wilder. I’ll call you if I have any more questions.”
I blinked. “I don’t have my phone.”
“Oh, right.” LeBlanc opened his suit jacket. “Got this from the scene. I’ll clear the paperwork on it. Everyone else had their phones on them, or knew where theirs was. I figured this was yours.”
“Thank you.” I took the cell phone, which was still in an evidence bag, from him and then he left.
“I brought you something to eat. Had to think you would be hungry,” Dalton said as he put the brown bag on the overbed table.
“I’m not, but thank you for the thought.”
“You doing okay?” he asked and opened the bag. He pulled out what looked like a burger.
“My head has stopped hurting, but I still want to puke.”
“Good old concussion.” He unwrapped his burger and then took a bite.
“LeBlanc asked me if the drug case was still moving forward. It is, right?”
“I hope so.”
“I asked him not to release Donnie’s name.”
“Good,” Dalton said around a mouthful.
“I need to call Ryan.”
“You’ve got it bad.” He shook his head and smiled.
I raised an eyebrow. “He just saw two people get shot in front of him.”
“I know, but you’re the one in the hospital.”
“He’s probably worried about me.” I unlocked the burner phone and hit the call button on Ryan’s name. It rang several times and then went to voicemail. “Hey, it’s me. Call me, please.”
A nurse walked into the room and glared at Dalton. “Visiting hours are over.”
He flashed his badge on his belt loop.
The nurse’s stern expression faltered for just a moment when she saw the badge, but then she quickly straightened herself up. “I don’t care who you are, sir. Visiting hours are?—”
“I’m not here for a social call,” Dalton cut her off. “I’m here for work. So if you’ll excuse us.” He raised an eyebrow, making it clear he wasn’t asking.
He was fine before I mentioned Ryan and now it was as though the thought of my boyfriend pissed him off. Did it? Was Dalton jealous? We’d always had a friends with benefits thing, but maybe he wanted more.
The nurse hesitated, looking between Dalton and me, then sighed heavily, muttering something under her breath before turning and heading out of the room.
“You could be a little nicer.” I rolled my eyes.
“She was trying to kick me out.”
“What if I kicked you out?”
“Are you going to?”
“I do want some sleep.”
“All right.” He stood. “I got a room in town and I’ll be by in the morning to see if they’re discharging you.”
“They need to. I have to get to Donnie’s guys and pretend everything’s cool.”
“I know, but you also have a head injury.”
I lifted my good arm and realized I had a bandage around my scalp. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay. Well, I’m also having your car towed to your apartment, so you have to ride back with me tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. See you in the morning and on the way home, we can discuss the next step with the bust since Donnie’s dead.”
“It should still go forward. I’ll make it work.”
“And if his supplier doesn’t want to do it without Donnie there?”
“We’ll still have the drugs in the truck and that should be enough.”
“All right.”
Dalton left. Even though I wanted to sleep, none of the nurses let me. And during the night, I never heard back from Ryan.