Chapter 18
Numb
Jordan
I died a few times. The first time it happened was when Agent Corcoran unintentionally revealed my identity.
Jordan, the former Internal Affairs agent.
Jordan, the liar. Jordan, the fraud. My entire life came crashing down at that moment, and I wasn’t even the worst person in the world.
I was, in fact, a decent one. I just made a bad call.
The second time I died was when Maddox punched me.
It was the first fist that hit my face, and which Adam left unavenged.
He just walked away, or so they told me after I came to with little birdies flying around my head.
Maddox had the meanest punch and the best intentions, but my anger at him was misdirected.
I could only blame myself for ending up Adam-less because he disappeared without a trace.
He took a leave of absence and never came home, and I knew it because I was spending my nights in his bed crying.
The third time I died was when I saw a car hitting the man I loved before it sped away in a cloud of dust. The driver didn’t bother hiding his identity, which meant Skull Crusher was a dead man. Still, first I had to make sure I had something to live for.
“Adam,” I gasped, dropping to my knees beside him. “Can you hear me?”
I pulled the phone out of my pocket and punched in 911 with trembling fingers.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“This is Detective Slade. Officer down. My partner’s been hit by a vehicle.”
“What’s your location?”
“Corner of 5th and Maple Street. He’s unconscious, and his breathing is shallow. There’s head trauma—possible internal injuries. Please hurry.”
“Help is on the way.”
I pressed two fingers to Adam’s neck, feeling relief when I felt a weak pulse. Trying to remember the prayers I learned as a child, I dialed another number.
“Maddox!” I said after he picked up, my voice cracking.
“Crusher got to Adam. It was a hit-and-run on the corner of 5th and Maple Street. Black sedan, heading eastbound. I called an ambulance, but I can’t be in two places at the same time.
Can you please locate that human waste so I can kill him when I find the time? ”
“On it. How is Markland?”
“Alive,” I managed to say. “For now.”
“He’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Adam was pale as a sheet, and his breathing was too weak. His leg was twisted at an unnatural angle beneath him, making my stomach churn. Blood was seeping from a gash above his brow and dripping onto the asphalt.
“Adam,” I whispered, wiping away the rain and blood from his face. “Can you hear me? I called an ambulance. Please say something.”
Silence. Dread. The next few minutes were the longest minutes of my life. Even the time I spent lying on that minefield in Sommet seemed shorter than those minutes. By the time I heard sirens wailing in the distance and the ambulance arrived, I was already out of my mind.
“He’ll be fine,” the medic told me because he saw I was losing it. “He’s a strong man.”
“He’ll be fine,” the doctor said before they wheeled Adam into the operating room. “Please let go of his hand.”
“He’ll be fine,” Chief Bibb said, patting my shoulder in the waiting room. “He’s too stubborn to die.”
Everyone was so fucking encouraging while I could barely breathe. I sat there with my hands clasped so tightly my knuckles turned white. The clock on the wall ticked, too loud for my ears as the minutes stretched into infinity.
After a few hours of agony, the doctor came out of the operating room.
Thank God, the surgery went well, he told us.
They performed a closed reduction, put Adam’s leg in a cast, but other than that, he was stable.
It left me waiting for him to wake up, tortured by the memories of everything that had happened.
The look in his eyes when he realized why I came to the LD haunted me.
The pain. The anger. The disappointment.
It was my fuck-up, because I could have told him everything, but I didn’t do it because I was a coward.
“Jordie.”
The faint voice made me snap back to reality as I sprang out of my chair, still holding his hand.
Adam was pale and still under the white sheets, with an oxygen tube resting beneath his nose.
His eyelashes fluttered, revealing a glimpse of a brilliant blue gaze that never failed to make my heart stutter.
Jordie, he said. Not Jordan. Jordie. It almost broke me.
“I’m here,” I said, forcing a smile. “How are you feeling?”
Adam tried to straighten up, only to groan in pain and fall back into the pillow.
“You can’t move, love,” I said, trying not to sound alarmed. “Your leg is in a cast.”
“What happened?”
“Skull Crusher ran you over. Maddox is on his ass, along with the rest of the LD. Everyone is so mad, and Chief Bibb is on a warpath. They’re all outside, waiting to see you.”
“Don’t let them in,” Adam murmured. “I don’t want them visiting me.”
I opened my mouth to reply when the door burst open, and the entire LD barged in.
“Sup, Markland,” Maddox said, throwing a beer onto Adam’s bed. “This is for after. By the way, your prison pal is on my to-die list.”
“I heard your leg is fucked up, Scarman,” Buck said, giving him a high five. “Don’t worry, though. My wife is a masseuse. She will fix you up in no time.”
“My boy,” Chief Bibb said in his booming voice, making everyone flinch. “I knew you would recover. There was no doubt in my mind.”
“It’s because of Jupiter,” Verna Bulut said, rushing into the room and startling everyone. “His influence helps with the recovery. Adam, hun, everything will be okay. I read your cards, and the situation is encouraging. I saw both love and fortune in your future. Can you imagine that?”
Adam’s eyes were fixed on the wall, filled with both desperation and misery.
“What is this?” A stern voice made us all turn around. “Who let all of you in?”
“Some hot nurse,” Maddox deadpanned.
The doctor behind us didn’t look amused. His eyes narrowed, sweeping across the crowded room before he approached the bed.
“Mister Markland, I’m Dr. Bobovich. How are you feeling?”
“Groggy.”
“That’s normal after anesthesia. Do you remember what happened?”
“Some.”
“You have been in a car accident. You have suffered a rib fracture, a concussion, and a broken leg, among other things. We did a closed reduction, and your leg is in a cast. It’s a clean fracture, which means it should heal without complications.
Pain and soreness are expected, but your medication should keep you comfortable. Do you have any questions?”
Adam barely looked at him before speaking. “I just want to go home.”
“Do you live alone?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m afraid it’s not possible,” Dr. Bobovich said. “You have the use of one leg and one arm because you’ve got a mild elbow injury. It means you need care and daily support. Do you have someone who can help you?”
“I don’t need help,” Adam said when I cut in, “He has me. I’m his partner. I mean, his work partner. We’re cops. I’ll take care of him.”
My verbal vomit made Maddox chuckle.
“No way in hell,” Adam bit out. “I would rather die.”
The anger seeping out of him was palpable, but I wanted to help him... I needed to help him.
“I’ll stay out of your way,” I said in a low voice so only Adam could hear me. “I swear. I’ll be there for you as much as you need me, but I won’t be a bother. I just want to help you. Please, let me help you.”
“What will it be, gentlemen?” Dr. Bobovich said, sounding impatient. “I have other patients waiting for me.”
“I agree,” Adam said, his voice barely audible. “Can I have a moment alone?”
So, we left. I took the small win, but it hardly made me feel better.
The last thing I could see was Adam staring at the pigeon traipsing on the windowsill outside the hospital room.
A knot of unease formed in my chest because he looked as if he was standing on that ledge, and not the pigeon.
I knew exactly how he felt because the look in his eyes was the one I saw every time I faced a prisoner behind bars.
Entrapped.
Adam
The entire situation made me think of the movie Misery.
A man with an injured leg, ending up in the care of a psycho, was exactly how I felt when I left the hospital.
It was the first thought that crossed my mind after they wheeled me into Jordan’s apartment, and the door closed behind me.
On a brighter note, my hospital stay was a short one.
They monitored me for a few days because of the concussion, but otherwise, I was healing nicely.
Cracked ribs and broken bones could be treated with painkillers and patience.
Broken hearts, though? No therapy or rehabilitation could heal that one.
I discouraged everyone from visiting me because I didn’t want anyone’s pity, but the LD guys were relentless. Chief Bibb was the worst because every time he came, he gave me this reassuring, fatherly look that made me choke up.
“Missus sends this,” he said the last time he came. “It’s a gluten-free granola bar good for immunity. Just what you need, my boy.”
It was probably the most disgusting, healthy piece of food I ever ate, but I ate it anyway.