Chapter Seventeen #2
“As soon as it’s safe, I promise.”
I nodded, setting down the coffee cup as I stood. “Come outside. You see garden.”
“Oh, okay.” Marcello set down his cup and followed me out to the backyard.
I was very proud of my efforts. I showed him the flower beds I’d planted.
Right now, they were little more than tiny sprouts coming up through the dirt from seeds, but I carefully read off the names on the seed packages I’d stapled to painter’s sticks marking where they were.
I pointed out the small orange, lemon, and kumquat bushes someone had picked up from a local nursery for me.
And showed him the small apple tree which I’d found after hacking through the twisted bushes that had surrounded it.
“I never knew you were a gardener, Cachi,” Marcello said.
I smiled, shrugging. “Nothing to do here.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job.” He patted me on the back.
“Gracias, mi amigo.” We wandered around the garden until the sun was setting and then went back inside. I walked him to the front door after he said goodbye to Mamá and then stood there awkwardly. As he broke eye contact, I reached out, taking his hand.
“Please, you tell Rex…tell him you see me, and I—” I swallowed hard. “Tell him I miss him.”
He looked pained. “Do you think that’s such a good idea, Cachi? He’s really trying to get better and…” He paused, looking me over with an expression of sadness in his eyes. He finally let out a long sigh. “Okay, I’ll tell him you miss him.”
I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around him. “Gracias, Marcello.”
He hugged me back, holding on for a long time before finally turning me loose. “See you later, my friend.” He offered up a sad smile. “And take care of those little birds.”
I smiled. “Si. I will.” I opened the door and he walked out.
I watched him until he was all the way down the drive and getting into his car before closing and locking the door behind him.
When I turned, Mamá was standing in the foyer, wringing her hands.
She had tears in her eyes. I walked over and put my arms around her.
“Cachi, you didn’t get good news.”
I let go of her, holding her out at arm’s length. “No, Rex cannot feel his legs.”
She nodded, sniffing as she wiped her eyes. I put an arm around her shoulders and walked her back to the living room where we sank down onto the couch beside each other. “What Marcello say?”
“We must wait. Maybe sometime Rex can feel something, but not yet.” I hung my head, clutching her hand as the tears fell. “I tell Marcello I miss Rex.” When she said nothing, I looked up, recognizing determination in her expression.
“We must pray, Cachi. I go to Mass tonight on the computer and say prayers.”
I looked at her, as always marveling in her relentless faith. “I sit with you, Mamá.”
“Good, Cachi, and you pray too.” She smiled.
“I will,” I replied, knowing that God had stopped listening to me long ago. She was trying to be cheerful and give me something positive to hang onto but it only made me feel more hopeless.
REX
I was sitting in my wheelchair reading a book the day after Mickey and Candy’s visit when there was a knock at my door. “Come in.”
When Cachi’s friend, Marcello Biagi, poked his head in, my smile fell. He hadn’t been by to visit like the rest of my team had after the shooting, but then again, I hadn’t expected him to. We weren’t friends and I really had no desire to put in the effort to make him one.
Although it wasn’t his fault, and I knew I was being a dick, I hadn’t liked the fact that he was an undercover FBI agent that none of the team had known about before the takedown.
Frankly, I’d been pissed as hell once I’d learned that SA Steele and SA Wallace had known all about Biagi’s role in the operation all along.
Though Candy hadn’t voiced his irritation with not letting the rest of us know we had someone inside, I’d known he’d been fuming.
“Hey, Monroe,” he said, coming into the room. He walked over as I closed my book, looking slightly tentative as he pointed to a chair. “Can I sit?”
I had to admit, I was glad he hadn’t offered to shake my hand because I would’ve probably tried to crush his. My grip was stronger than ever now that I was getting used to the wheelchair.
“Take a load off.” I waved at the chair and he grabbed it, pulling it over so we were facing each other.
The graceful nature of his movements—how easily he rolled his hips as he strolled in on two good legs—bugged the crap out of me.
I was certain he had no idea how lucky he was to be not only young, but beautiful and whole.
He sank into the chair across from me, rested his elbows on his knees, and glanced up.
“Thanks.” He dragged his gaze away from me and looked around the room before glancing back. “Nice room.”
I stared at him, wondering what the hell was going on. “Yeah, I guess it’s nice if you like lookin’ at the same four walls for two months.”
He frowned a bit, clearing his throat. “They say you’re gonna go home to continue your recovery once you learn how to navigate with that.” He pointed to the wheelchair.
I gritted my teeth. “That’s what they say.”
He cleared his throat again. “Well, I know I haven’t been by to see how you’re doing, but we get regular updates on your condition in the office. I just wanted you to know that we’re all pulling for you.”
“Thanks.” He had something on his mind, but I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.
The green monster had taken hold of me the minute I saw him holding Cachi’s hand as they sat side by side on a curb with the other valets after Castillion had been killed.
At the time, none of us had been aware of who he was, and I certainly hadn’t liked the way Cachi had been looking to him for comfort after the shooting.
“Yeah, anyway, I just wanted to let you know we’re all praying for you.”
I grunted. “So, my brothers have said.” I knew I was being rude, but I couldn’t help it. When he opened his mouth to say something, I held up a hand and cut him off. “Look, Biagi, we ain’t friends, so why don’t you just spit it out and tell me why you’re really here?”
His eyes widened and for a split second, I saw a flash of pity fill his eyes before they cleared.
Nothing pissed me off more than pity, which is how all the hospital administrators behaved whenever they came into the room to talk to me about VA benefits or needed me to sign something.
My teammates never did that, possibly because most—if not all of them—had spent some time recovering from injuries earned on various missions. They knew the drill.
I’d sent the hospital social worker out of the room nearly in tears when she’d come in to discuss my eventual discharge.
She’d said the hospital was anxious to have a home health aide come over to bathe me and change my diapers, before I informed her I didn’t wear them and she could just fuck right off if she thought I needed them.
Biagi sat straighter in his chair, looking almost sorry for living. He cleared his throat a third time. “I went to see Cachi at the safehouse last night.”
I felt my face heat. “Oh, yeah? Why?”
He frowned. “Because we’re friends and I’ve known him for years, that’s why.”
“And?”
“And he wanted me to pass on a message to you.”
I stared at him for a few seconds, feeling the blood drain from my face. “What’s the message?”
“He wanted me to tell you that he misses you.”
I searched his expression for lies but could find none.
My heart pounded so hard in my chest, it took my breath away.
Thinking about Cachi missing me was painful as hell, but I wasn’t about to show it.
I didn’t want or need anyone to tell me that was the case.
I was well aware that he was probably sitting at home mooning about me and feeling confused about the way I’d sent him away.
I certainly didn’t need this virile, young man to tell me things like that.
I was finally able to drag my gaze away from his, finding a spot on the wall behind him to stare at as I blanked my expression.
When he made scoffing noises, I looked back at him. The anger I found on his face wasn’t the expression I expected. “What?”
“You’re a real asshole, Monroe.”
I smirked…not in a nice way. “That’s what I’m told.” I waved my hands around the room. “It’s hard not to be an asshole when I’m constantly bein’ bugged by people who waltz on in here to tell me I am, right to my face.”
“Maybe you deserve it.”
“Bein’ told I’m an asshole? Because I don’t need that. I already know.”
He stood up then, reaching up to run a hand through his hair as he paced away.
My gaze followed his movements, jealous that his long legs were strapped with rippling muscle, and strong.
He walked over to the window, putting his hands on his hips as he looked toward our offices in the federal building which was only a couple of blocks away.
The whole reason I avoided the window, was so that I wouldn’t be constantly reminded I’d probably never be able to return to work as a whole man again.
My career along with my love life was gone, possibly forever, made even more evident with each passing day in this shitty place.
Biagi stood there taking deep breaths for several minutes as though he was trying to rein in whatever emotions he was feeling.
I—for one—wished he’d have his breakdown somewhere else because the very last thing I needed was for him to come here with his overly sympathetic looks, bringing his pity party along with him.
My body, however, didn’t allow me to simply stand up, go over to him, and toss his ass out.
“Okay, you done your duty. You gave me the message…now, is there anythin’ else?” I finally said.
He whirled around and stomped back to me. “I’m gonna leave. It was a mistake to come here. I just wanted you to know how miserable he was and how much he misses you, but I never should’ve come.”
I shook my head. “No, you shouldn’t have.”
He stood there staring at me open-mouthed. “You really don’t care how he’s feeling, do you?”
I couldn’t deny how terrible I felt about how Cachi was feeling, but this guy was the last person on earth I was prepared to admit it to. “Sure, I care.” I made a show of being deliberate when I shrugged. “But, there ain’t nothin’ between us now, so I ain’t sure what I’m supposed to do about it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, I felt really sorry this happened you, but seeing you like this, makes me rethink all of that.”
“I don’t need you feelin’ sorry for me, Biagi,” I said, trying not to shout. “And the last thing I need is for you to tell me how Cachi feels. He told me he loves me and I told him that’s the worst mistake he could make.”
He scoffed. “Because you don’t deserve him. He’s too goddamned good for you, you asshole.”
I felt rage filling me, and the urge to tackle him to the ground where I could pummel his face was stronger than it’d ever been. “I know he’s too good for me. That’s why I sent him away.” I waved at my legs. “What does Cachi know about bein’ in love with a damned cripple anyway?”
“Do you not even care that he’s hurting?” he bellowed.
I shook my head. “He shouldn’t.”
“Well, he is!”
“I told him to forget me…forget whatever we had in the past. That’s gone now.”
His expression filled with anger. “You cold bastard.” He pointed toward the door. “That kid is sitting alone every day crying over you, and you don’t even give a shit. You just sent him away, knowing he was in love with you.”
I grabbed the wheels of the chair and turned away from him. “Well, you’re right about one thing.” I heard his boots stomp closer as he moved until he was in front of me. I craned my neck to look up at him as I made a show of looking him up and down with disgust.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“He’s a kid.”
He nodded slowly, blowing out a long, slow breath. “You have no idea what you’re doing to him and now, after this—” He waved a hand between us. “I know you never returned his feelings, Monroe.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. As much as I wanted to deny the connection I’d felt with Cachi from our very first meeting, I resented Marcello coming in and telling me how much he was hurting. “You don’t know how I feel.”
“Well, I know this…you’re not capable of loving him you bitter, old fucker.”
I swallowed down my rage as another thought occurred to me. “You want Cachi for yourself? Is that what this is all about? I know I ain’t much competition in my current state, but I can sure as hell think of a thousand guys who’d be better for him than you!”
“Dating Cachi isn’t what this is about,” he said with a hateful glare. “But if it was, I’d be lucky to have a man like him. He’s a wonderful, warm, kindhearted person.” He shook his head, waving a hand at me. “And look what he wants. He’s better off without you, Monroe.”
“Which is what I told him.” I pointed to his face as the bitter words slid off my lips. “So, you done your duty. You gave me his message. Go back there and tell him I want nothin’ to do with him anymore. Maybe if you’re honest with him, he’ll accept that we’re over.”
His features darkened. “Fuck you, Monroe.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Don’t contact Cachi again. Stay away from him after you get out and if I even hear of you coming near him again, I’ll make it my life’s work to kick your ass, wheelchair or not.
” With that, he spun on his heel and stomped to the door, throwing it open, and bolting outside.
He slammed the door with a bang and the room grew silent.
I swallowed hard, feeling my lower lip tremble as tears filled my eyes. It was for the best. I was going home soon to start getting used to living my life alone, but it would be without Cachi at my side. I knew it was the right thing to do.
So why did it hurt so goddamned bad?