Safe With Me (Wounded Heroes: The Redemption #6)

Chapter 1

“Thanks for volunteering, guys.” Jackson Kane grinned at the group of men who’d come downtown to help today.

“Like we had a choice.” Joe Romano rolled his eyes. He wore coveralls, the pockets filled with brushes. He was Jackson’s best friend.

Jackson’s brother-in-law, Caleb, a former minister, cracked a smile too. “Maisy made me come. Thank her.”

Lots of connections here.

Diego Rodriguez, the tallest and most muscular griped, “As if we don’t have enough to do at Pathways.” A former cop, Diego worked full-time now at the famous school.

“Well, I’m happy to be here,” Will Kirland put in. “Katie wanted to come too but she got called into work.” For having lost everything when he was guarding the president, Will was in good spirits.

And last, Jackson zeroed in on Pax. The reason they were all here. “Is this enough guys, Pax?”

“Yeah, it’s great.” He swallowed hard. “Thanks to everyone for coming down.”

The doc hadn’t expected this much help. The entire first floor of an existing building in the center of Westwood that Jackson bought had been renovated into a reception area with an alcove for children, office spaces, storage for medical equipment, a couple of desks, bathrooms and exam rooms. Its square footage would take a lot of paint.

“Point us in the right direction,” Diego suggested.

“Two guys can start on the exam rooms and the larger common area. There’s slate blue paint already in the hallway.” Pax’s voice was strong now. “If you’re so inclined, I left some white too, for the trim. Otherwise, paint everything blue.”

Will Kirkland said, “I’m inclined. Who wants to work with me?”

Caleb waved. “I will.” He held up his phone. “If I get to pick the music.”

Before they headed out, Will walked toward Pax. “I’m sending down a guard from my security company to help you out here.”

“Thanks, Will. Jackson already told me. I appreciate the help. But a security system will be installed next week. Do we need a guard?”

“Absolutely.”

Joe Romano volunteered himself and Diego for the waiting room and restrooms. Pax had picked a soothing sage green for those.

“Guess that leaves us,” Jackson said to Pax. “What’s left to do?”

“The storefront.”

“I’ll be glad to be outside.” Jackson sighed. “I covet that, these days.”

“The paint’s by the door, and there’s ladders already leaning against the building.”

Jackson crossed to Pax. Put a hand on his shoulder. “See, I told you we could do this.”

“We? You’re the one who worked miracles to get this place ready in two months. We’ll meet our open house date of November first easily.” The building and equipment had already passed inspection by the city and representatives of the state medical board. Jackson had pulled a lot of strings. Pathways was still his baby, but it gave him immense satisfaction to help the community. And fulfilled one of his long-time goals.

* * *

Jackson might be glad to be in the fresh air, but Pax wanted to work out here because it was harder to talk to each other. During the planning with the architect, to the ordering of equipment, to the hiring of a receptionist and a nurse, (they still needed a doctor part-time), Jackson pestered Pax to talk about his life.

Pax had managed not to.

They placed the ladders on either side of the door and the sign, Westwood Clinic . Pax had wanted the place to be named after Jackson but the man wouldn’t hear of it.

Jackson talked, regardless of the street noise. And foot traffic. “Who did you invite to the open house?”

“Nobody.”

“Seriously. Tell me why.”

“Jackson, I don’t have any friends and my family’s from L.A. I came to upstate New York to work at Upstate Medical University.” Because it had a reputation where Pax knew he could build one for himself. And he had--he’d become one of the most respected surgeons in the state. In the country.

“You have friends now. Me and Maisy. The guys inside. And you’ll make more with your coworkers.”

Pax shook his head. And was glad when the traffic got heavy and they couldn’t hear each other.

He was grateful. He was . But he knew not to count his chickens in life because what you had, what you built up, could be gone in an instant.

Jackson Kane had been among the lucky ones to survive the sharp pain of that sword.

* * *

“Hello. Is anybody here?”

From the back of the clinic, someone called out, “Be right there.”

While she waited, Stephanie Giordano walked around the reception area. And sniffed. The place had been newly painted. She came upon an alcove, done in primary colors with numbers and letters and animal decals on the wall. It was cute.

“Hello.”

She turned.

An attractive, if harried man dressed in paint speckled clothes had come out. “How can I help you?”

“I’m you’re security guard from Investigator Solutions.” Will Kirkland’s business.

His eyes widened. Hell! This happened to her all the time. She tried to compensate for her looks by pulling her strawberry blond hair back into a bun and covering the freckles on her face with makeup. “You sure you were sent by Will?”

“Yes, I am.”

“I was expecting…a guy. I can’t believe you—”

She leapt forward, circled him and pulled his arm behind his back. She was close enough to smell his very masculine scent.

He didn’t say anything.

She asked, “Still think I can’t do the job, Doc?”

He laughed, something she didn’t expect. “Sorry about that. But you better let go of me fast or I’m going to need a sling.”

She stepped away.

Turning, he smiled at her. “My apologies for being sexist. But you’re so…slight.”

“Well, I eat a ton. And I have more muscles than you do. I assure you I’m strong and up to the job.”

He cocked his head. “Doesn’t your size affect your ability to do that?”

“Why would it?”

“People won’t see you as security.”

“They’ll find out soon enough.”

“I suppose. And again, I apologize. Shall we sit over there and talk?”

They crossed to the table and chairs in the corner that the guys had set up yesterday. “I’ve got a coffee pot in the back that I’m going to put out here eventually.”

“I imagine there aren’t many niceties in your clientele’s lives.”

His approval was good to see.

“No they don’t. I’ll go get forms we have to fill for employment reasons.”

“Okay. And I’ll take that coffee. Black.”

He disappeared into the back and Steph wondered why she’d been cursed with these looks. They always made people underestimate her. When he returned, he brought two cups and had slid a clipboard under his arm. He set everything on the table.

Dropping down again, he sipped his own brew and held his pen above the form. “First off, your name.”

“Stephanie Giordano.”

“An Italian heritage? Another thing that doesn’t fit with your looks.”

“I resemble my Irish mother.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“Mom and Dad live in Syracuse. I’m blessed with four brothers.”

“No wonder you’re so tough.”

“Had to be. To make matters worse, they’re all older.”

“You must have had a hell of a time with boyfriends.”

“What boyfriends? Nobody’d come near me until college.”

“I can imagine.”

“I was saved by a best friend, Camille. We shared teenage girl things. She still lives in Syracuse. How about you?”

“A sister, younger. She lives in L.A. I need an address.”

“78 Bellmont Drive right here in Westwood. I have an apartment in a house. Where do you live?”

“A little ranch off Main Street. Can I see a legal ID? I need to copy it and your insurance card for taxes.”

She reached into her suit coat and pulled out a wallet. “Investigator Solutions, Will’s company, pays my health insurance.” She gave him the cards and a photo fell out.

“Your guy?”

She swallowed hard at the picture. Tommy stared up at her, full of life and healthy as a horse until… “No. That’s one of my brothers. He died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. It still hurts after two years.”

“How did he die?”

“He went into the hospital to have an aneurysm repaired and the doctor botched it.”

Pax’s face fell. He looked completely different from when she’d first come in. Even his shoulders slumped. Then he stood and handed her back her cards. “You’re not right for this job, Ms. Giordano. I’ll call Will and have him send somebody else.”

She frowned. “Why all of sudden I’m not right for the job?”

“Because I…because I botched an operation when I was a cardiac surgeon and the patient died.”

Her jaw fell. She drew in a heavy breath. Finally, she stood. “Call Will. I’ll go talk to him too.” Without saying more, she walked out of the clinic and headed back to the office.

* * *

Pax was bombarded by memories engendered by Stepanie Giordano and exacerbated by the new clinic…

“Hey, where’s my music?”

The nurses stared at him.

“Just because other doctors don’t use it here, doesn’t mean I won’t.”

He heard someone say, “Cocky bastard.”

Turning, Pax’s gaze narrowed. “Who said that?”

An intern lifted his chin. “I did. I came to Memorial to learn from the best. I didn’t know you were…like you are.”

“You’re outta here, buddy.”

The intern—he didn’t know the guy’s name—whipped off his mask, surgical gown and hair net and stalked out. Big bravado when Pax could get him booted out of the program.

A nurse put some music on. Its loud blare made his head reverberate. “I need my gown and hat secured.”

Somebody scrambled to tighten them.

“All right, let’s get this show on the road. Spreader…”

Pax forced himself out of the memory. He couldn’t take remembering the rest of what happened. Ms. Giordano’s situation had made it into his heart.

* * *

Will Kirkland motioned for Steph to come in as he spoke into the phone. She dropped down in front of the desk.

“Aw, I’m so sorry you’re so sick to your stomach…yeah, I know you hate being back at the desk. You could go home…all right, all right…I have to go, honey.”

He disconnected with a smile on his face. “That was Katie.”

“I overheard. I’m sorry she’s sick.”

“She isn’t.” A misplaced grin, she thought. “We haven’t told anybody yet, but I can’t keep our secret any longer. My wife is three months pregnant.”

Steph had calmed herself down on the way over. “Oh, Will, that’s wonderful news.”

“It is. She’s having a bad day but we’re both elated.” His expression was cocky. “They’re twins.”

“Wow. You’ll have your hands full.”

“Both Katie and I are only children. So we wanted a big family, if not all at once.”

“Again, I’m happy for you.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “But you’re not happy. What’s going on?”

“You know I hate to complain.”

“You never do.”

“Well, there’s always a first time. I can’t work with Pax Barry.”

“I was over there helping to paint the clinic. He seemed fine then. Why can’t you work with him?”

She laid her head back on the high seat. “I don’t share this detail of my life with anyone at the workplace.”

“Do you want to tell me?”

“I have to. In order to explain.” She took in a deep breath. “He told me his background.”

“Steph, we all have pasts that shouldn’t haunt us forever. Did you know when I was in the Secret Service, on duty protecting the president, he was shot on my watch.”

“Yeah. There are rumors.”

“I found my way back. Pax made a mistake in his job, too. He’s trying to claw his way back.”

She felt bad for complaining now. She recalled how he seemed to crumble into himself. She liked it better when he was laughing. “There’s something you don’t know about my past.”

“If it’s something that will affect how you do your job, I should know.”

“It hasn’t been.” He raised a brow. “Until now.” She had to force the rest out. “My older brother Tommy died on the operating table during a surgery. The specialist botched it.”

“Steph, I’m sorry to hear that.” Will steepled his hands. “So Pax’s situation is impossible for you to forgive?”

“When you put it like that, I don’t know that it’s my place to forgive or not to. I do know I don’t want to work for him.”

“Will you be resigning from Investigative Solutions, too?”

“No, of course not.”

“Can you see where I’m going with this?”

“Yeah. You’re saying that I can’t be employed here if I refuse to work with Pax.”

“Not at all. I’m wondering why you would want to stay at my company now that you know my past?”

“I…hell, I don’t hold that against you. You made a mistake.”

“But you hold Pax’s mistake against him.”

“I think you’re drawing a false analogy.”

“Maybe I am. But I won’t force you to do anything. Tell you what. Go back to the clinic for a week. See if he’s such a bad guy. If you find out you can’t tolerate working for him, I’ll assign somebody else there.”

“Will you keep me on here?”

“Yes. I suppose everybody here has prejudices. I can’t fire people for them, even if I knew about them.”

“You think I’m prejudiced?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I hate to think of myself that way.”

“Steph, I don’t want to resurrect that traumatic event in your life. If it’s too painful for you to be at the clinic, you’ll find out in a week. And I promise, I won’t hold it against you if you still have the negative feelings.”

Disturbed by their conversation, Steph asked, “You better run it by him. I was obvious about my attitude and he may not want me back.”

“I’ll do that this afternoon. Take the rest of the day off. I’ll call you when I talk to him.”

She left the office feeling disappointed with herself. So she went home, changed into jeans and a T-shirt and drove out to her happy place.

When she opened the heavy door to the pet adoption center, Forever Friends appeared to be in chaos. But she knew the owner, Matt Lanier, had a handle on everything. As soon as she got inside, a big dog with a lot of caramel-colored hair rushed over to the gate.

She bent down and ruffled her fur, which appeared to be newly washed. “Hey there, Sunshine. How are you today?”

The dog licked her face.

Smiling, Matt approached her. A big man with black curly hair and big blue eyes, had a gentle touch with the animals. “Go inside the gate and play with her. She had a bath and she’s anxious from it. But she loves it when you come.”

Steph straightened. “Can I take her for a walk?

“No work today?”

“Day off. Long story.”

“Sure, you took the volunteer course. Go ahead. She might also like the dog park.”

He handed her a harness and a leash. She walked inside the cordoned-off area and wrestled Sunshine into the cute pink vest-like harness, attached the leash and led her outside.

She already felt better.