Chapter Thirty-Two
Jesse hadn’t expected to spend the night and had awakened with the most unholy crick in his neck from sleeping in the chair next to Memphis’s bed. When he tried to move his head, a sharp pain stabbed his upper back.
His gasp woke her and had her turning toward him to see what was up.
“Slept wrong,” he said as he rubbed at the ache in his neck.
“I told you to go home.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Maybe I should be. If you’d listened to me, you wouldn’t have a crick in your neck.”
He scowled at her as he tried to stretch the kinks out and succeeded only in making it worse. “Son of a bitch.”
“You’re getting too old to spend the night in a crappy hospital recliner.”
“Who are you calling old?” At thirty-seven, he’d never felt older than he had lately, but he was allowed to think that of himself. She didn’t get to say it.
“Which one of us is moaning and groaning because he can’t move his own head?”
A snappy comeback died on his lips as another sharp pain required his full attention. Cripes, he’d be walking crooked for a week at this rate.
“Hey, Jesse?”
The soft, uncertain-sounding question put him immediately on alert. His Memphis didn’t ever sound vulnerable, so what was up with that? “Yeah?”
“What’re we going to do?”
“About what?”
“This. You, me, work, all of it.”
“Why do we have to do anything about it? We’ve gotten away with it for this long.”
“You want me to go home with you after I get out of here.”
“That’s right, and that’s what we’re doing.”
“People will have questions.”
“Fuck them. It’s none of their business.”
“It’s not Lafferty’s business?” she asked, referring to their boss.
He’d spent the better part of a year praying that Lafferty would never catch wind of his… whatever it was… with a subordinate. “It’s no one’s business what we do on our own time.”
“You know that’s not true. You’ve conveniently forgotten that you’re my boss, and we’re not allowed to be together outside of work.”
“We’ve been together outside work for a long time, and it’s never affected anything. Why should it now?”
A deep sigh was her only response.
“Why don’t you just say what’s on your mind?” he said in a snappier-than-intended tone.
“I’m trying to, but you’re being obtuse.”
Jesse stood and immediately regretted the movement when the pain had him trying not to cry like a baby. “How am I being obtuse?”
She stared at him in that way of hers that made him anxious from her ability to see right through him and his bullshit. “You said things to me… after I was shot that made me think you maybe see me as more than just a fuck buddy.”
He stared back at her. “I don’t think of you that way.”
“How do you think of me?”
Before he could answer that burning question, her mother and grandmother came breezing into the room, bringing their traveling circus with them.
“How is our darling girl today?” her mother, Alberta, asked in a singsong voice that grated on his last nerve as she swooped in to hug and kiss Memphis like she hadn’t seen her in a year.
Judging by her perturbed expression, Memphis wasn’t pleased to have their conversation interrupted, whereas Jesse felt like he’d been thrown a life ring.
He knew it was a temporary reprieve and that he’d better have some answers for her the next time they had a minute alone. What those answers would be, he couldn’t say. “I, uh, I’m going to run home to shower and change. I’ll be back.”
The three women ignored him as he moved carefully to leave the room, his head tilted at a fifteen-degree angle to keep the agony under control.
Memphis wanted to scream from frustration and annoyance. Her mother and grandmother’s timing was exquisite, as always.
“What’s the matter with you?” her grandmother, Beatrice, asked.
“Nothing. I was talking to Jesse.”
“That man…” Alberta plumped Memphis’s pillows. “He’s a strange one.”
The comment made Memphis want to defend him when she’d wanted to stab him a few minutes ago.
He gave a little and then took it away again so fast that she existed in a constant state of whiplash.
And he thought his neck hurt. Ha! “He’s not strange.
” Yes, he was, but her mother wasn’t allowed to say that.
“Does he speak?” Beatrice asked. “Or only grunt?”
“He speaks.” And when he does, he ties me up in knots, she thought, not that she would ever say that to them.
“What’re you doing with him?” Alberta asked.
“We’re friends. And colleagues.”
“He’s your boss, right?”
“Technically.”
Beatrice snorted. “Is he or is he not your boss?”
“He is.” She’d sucked at lying to them all her life, so there was no point in trying to get away with it now.
Alberta crossed her arms and gave Memphis the stare-down from the right side, while Beatrice armed the left flank. Did they care that she was still in the ICU?
“So what’s he doing sleeping in your room?” Alberta asked.
“He came to check on me last night and fell asleep. He’s been looking for the first lady’s missing nephew and had been up for two days.”
“What would his boss have to say about him spending the night in your hospital room?” Alberta asked.
“Good question,” Beatrice said.
As always, they were the ultimate tag team.
“Can we save this inquisition for another time? I’m not feeling great.”
“You look much better,” Alberta said.
“Great, but my leg hurts like a bitch.”
“Language,” Beatrice said with a frown.
What would she say if Memphis said fuck this shit at the top of her lungs, the way she wanted to?
“What’s his story?” Alberta asked, never one to give up the proverbial bone once she had a taste of it.
“He’s a marshal, like me.”
“What’s the rest of his story? Why’s he so weird?”
“He’s not weird, Mom! Stop saying that!”
Maybe she shouldn’t have responded so vehemently, because their curiosity was even more piqued than it’d been before.
“No need to be defensive. He’s just a guy you work with, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You know what I always say, Mama?” Alberta asked her mother.
“What’s that, sugar?”
“You can lie to some people, but your mama and your grandmama can see right through your nonsense.”
“You do say that—a lot.”
Memphis wished she could glare at them both at the same time. “Are you two done?”
“Nah, baby, we’re just getting started,” Alberta said, “and we aren’t leaving until we’re sure our girl is making good decisions for herself—and the career she worked so hard to have.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Memphis said under her breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought you said.”
She wanted to remind them that she was thirty-three years old and a fully grown adult in charge of her own life and could decide who was important to her.
But she’d never say that out loud. They’d raised her to respect them, and she did.
Most of the time, anyway. When they weren’t trying to run her life the way they had when she’d lived at home.
Leaving for college had been the best thing to ever happen to her, even if she’d missed them fiercely.
How long would Jesse be gone this time, she wondered, and what would he have to say when he returned? And could they go back in time to when she first woke up from surgery, when he called her baby and was about to cry with gratitude because she hadn’t gone and died on him? That’d be nice.
“Babe.”
Nick’s whispered word and the soft kiss to her cheek roused Sam from the deepest of deep sleeps.
“Mmm. Not yet.”
“You’ve got to wake up. Social media is on fire over Ethan and the murder of Luna Ahern.”
Sam’s eyes flew open so fast, it was a wonder she didn’t sprain her eyelids. “What?”
“People are speculating about what happened, saying he was probably involved, but we’re covering it up to preserve his reputation or some such nonsense.”
Groaning, she said, “Come on. We already said he was a victim, not a perp.”
“You have to say it again—and soon. It’s already spinning out of control.”
Her phone rang with a call from Malone.
“Wonder what he’s calling about,” she said as she reached for the phone. “Hey.”
“Are you seeing the stuff online?”
“Not yet, but Nick just told me about it. What’s the plan?”
“We need to issue an update ASAP to put a stop to the speculation. We’re prepared to announce we’re charging Asher and Brecken Mayfield with kidnapping, first-degree sexual assault, unlawful imprisonment and felony murder.
Brecken will be charged as an adult, even though he’s only fifteen.
The statement will also reiterate that neither Ethan Hogan nor Tomas Cambra was involved in the kidnapping, sexual assault or murder of Luna Ahern. Does that work for you?”
“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you for handling it.”
“We’ll get it right out and put a stop to this shit.”
“I hope that does it.” She glanced at Nick. “Do you mind if Nick’s team puts out a statement after yours?”
“Do whatever it takes to shut this shit down.”
“Thanks, Cap. If it’s okay with you, I think I’ll take a personal day today.”
“It’s fine with me. Take tomorrow, too.”
“Tell Gonzo to call me as needed on the Carver case.”
“We’ve got it. Take a much-needed break and be with your family.”
“Call me if you need me for anything.”
“Will do.”
Sam slapped her phone closed. “I’ve got the next two days off.”
“Oh boy, what’s your plan?”
“More than anything, I want to be with the kids, and I want to see Tracy and her kids.”
“Technically, even though Harry cleared them to return to school, the twins could probably use one more day to recover, and Scotty would lose his mind if we let him take a sick day.”
“Tell me the truth.”
Her serious tone had his brows knitting with confusion. “About?”
“Did the apocalypse happen while I was asleep?”
“Huh?”
“Are you, the ultimate nerd rule follower, actually suggesting we give our kids a fake sick day?”
He attempted to look sinister—and failed miserably. “Did you just call me a nerd?”
“Does the shoe fit, Mr. President?”
“Here I am, trying to give my precious wife the thing she said she most needs today, and what do I get for my trouble but name-calling and disdain.”
“You’re very cute when you’re being indignant.”
He leaned over her to nuzzle her neck. “You’re cute all the time, even when you’re calling your husband the president a nerd.”
Sam giggled as much from the words as the ticklish feel of his lips on her neck. “Why do you smell so ridiculously good at the ass crack of dawn?”
“Because I’ve already been up for two hours, showered, shaved, had two cups of coffee and am about to leave for my briefing.”
Sam put her arms around him. “They can’t start without you, right?”
“Usually, I’m the main event.”
“Tell me everything will be okay with Ethan.”
“We’ve got all the right people on it, and I also think keeping Scotty out of school and away from the questions today is the right move.”
“That’s a very good point.”
“I’ll have Christina release the statement we prepared.
It reiterates that Ethan and his friend were victims of a senseless, violent crime, and thanks to their own ingenuity, they were able to escape.
Anyone who says otherwise is peddling lies and conspiracy theories and could be opening themselves up to legal action.
The statement also says that while we’re thankful and relieved to have Ethan and Tomas home safe, the first couple’s hearts are broken for the Ahern family. ”
“You’re good at this. You might want to consider a career in politics.”
“Do you think I could go all the way?”
She gave him a lascivious smile as she ran her fingers over his silk tie. “Any time you want, sailor.”
“That’s commander in chief to you, ma’am.”
“Look at you, acting all presidential and shit. It’s not going to your head, is it?”
“Maybe a little. After all, they break into a special song just for me any time I enter the room.”
“My heart breaks into a special song just for you every time you enter the room.”
He kissed her. “That’s the only song that matters.”
He left the room after promising to call the kids out of school, have Trevor issue the statement as soon as the MPD got theirs out and try to come back for breakfast with the kids.
Sam sent Tracy a message to let her know that her people and Nick’s were all over the situation online.
As she contemplated whether she might go back to sleep for a little while, her phone chimed with a text from Tracy.
Thank you both. I’m not looking.
Me either, and from what Nick said, that’s for the best. We know the truth, and we’ll never deviate from it. Did you sleep at all?
I think so. But it was fitful. Mike left last night.
Sam called her sister. “Where’d he go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Trace… He feels terrible.”
“Hang on.”
Sam heard rustling in the background before a door clicked shut.
“I had to go into the bathroom. Abby’s sleeping in my bed. I’m keeping her home today since the whole world is apparently accusing her brother of murder. I thought she probably shouldn’t be in school with that going on.”
“I’m so sorry about all this.”
“Me, too, and as much as you might want to defend Mike—”
“Wait! I’m not defending him. I’m only saying he’s devastated.”
“I know he is, but that doesn’t change the fact that the only reason we’re all devastated is because he allowed our son to do something I said was unsafe. So I’m sorry if I just can’t be around him right now, but I simply cannot.”
“I get it, and I’m always on your side, even if I love him, too.”
“I’m not asking you or Angela or anyone to pick sides.”
“We’d always choose you and your kids. You know that.”
“I don’t want him kicked out of the family. I just need to find a way to deal with this without him sulking in the background.”
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. I’m fine. Any time I start to think I can’t handle it, I consider what Luna’s mother is going through, and I stop my whining.
My son is home safe. Did he have a horrifying ordeal?
Yes. Is the fallout from that ordeal going to last the rest of his life and mine?
Probably. But all that matters is that he’s okay.
When I think about how this could’ve ended for him and Tomas… ”
“Don’t go there.”
“It’s hard not to when these men were capable of torturing and killing a young girl. Imagine what they had planned for Ethan and Tomas.”
“I’d rather not. Can I come see you later?”
“Don’t you have work?”
“The kids and I are taking a personal day.”
“I think some cousin time might be just what Ethan and Abby need—and I could use some sister time.”
“We’ll be over after lunch.”
“See you then.”