Chapter 35
Tobias
“Igotta tell you, I don’t see why you like to work from home.” My lip curls as I stare at Titus through the screen of my laptop. “It’s boring as shit.”
“That’s because you can’t do your job from home, so you’ve just been sitting around for the last three weeks, being a pain in everyone’s ass.” Titus holds a baby in one arm—I can’t tell which one—bouncing a little as he pats their tiny back. “If you want, you can come over here and change diapers.”
“How in the hell do you think I’m going to get there?” Getting around isn’t easy right now. That’s why I’m stuck here at home. “You want me to just wheel myself across the grass?”
I hate being in a wheelchair. It’s keeping me on the first floor. Transferring to the toilet is a fucking ordeal. I can’t drive. I can’t walk. I can’t cook or clean or do any of the shit I need to do. It’s putting everything on Brooke, and I hate it.
Trevor’s face pops up on the screen, shifting Titus into a smaller window. He smirks. “Just like old times, huh?”
We did our group meetings over Zoom for years.
Titus didn’t leave his house, so it was our only option.
Since he’s been coming into the office once a week, we’ve been able to sit face-to-face in a conference room and hash out any issues that are happening or make decisions on plans in the pipeline.
Today is mostly going to be hashing out issues, because we’ve got a fuck ton.
Tucker and Walker pop up at the same time, filling out my screen and completing the roster.
“Look at the bum.” Tucker gives me a grin. “You tired of sitting around yet?”
“I was tired of sitting around before I even left the hospital.” It was worse there because I constantly had a nurse on my ass, giving me shit anytime I tried to push things a tiny bit beyond where they were supposed to go.
I get why, but damn. Sometimes a man just wants to shit without a stranger standing outside the partially open door.
Being home is better, but it still sucks. I’ve got hours each day when Brooke is gone. And while I know she’s safe—Trevor picks her up every morning and brings her home every night—I don’t like being away from her for so long.
That’s why I’m pushing myself hard to get back on my feet, making the most of every appointment with the physical therapist who comes to torment me. Hopefully soon I’ll be able to level up to crutches so I can get back to my life.
Which I’m thankful as hell to still have.
“I know Pierce is ready for you to get up and moving.” Titus smirks. “He’s making a list of everything he wants as soon as you’re back in the game.”
“Great.” Sounds like I won’t be easing back into shit. “Speaking of Pierce, has he found the connection between the guy who hit me and Matt yet?”
The police went back and looked at the traffic cameras recording the intersection where the crash happened.
Apparently, the sedan hadn’t simply run the red light.
It had circled the block three times before my truck showed up.
Then accelerated—dodging one stopped car to reach me—T-boning my truck with a direct hit.
If I’d been in a normal vehicle, the strike would have been fatal.
Definitely for me, potentially for Walker as well.
But he didn’t seem to know we weren’t in a normal vehicle, and it ended badly for him.
“You mean outside of him being behind the wheel of Matt’s rental car?” Titus shakes his head. “Not yet, but he’s still digging.”
It turns out I wasn’t as delirious as I thought when I believed I saw Matt behind the wheel of the car that hit me.
The guy looked a hell of a lot like him—right down to the expensive suit.
But at the time of the accident, the real Matt was passed out in his hotel room.
Sleeping off the effects of whatever concoction he consumed after calling Brooke to dish out threats he was too big of a pussy to follow through on himself.
And as soon as I have proof he was behind the accident, I’m going to ruin his life.
I’m sure my mother will be more than happy to help me.
“I need him to dig faster.” I scrub one hand over my face, rubbing at my tired eyes. Sleeping on the recliner is killing me, making me even grumpier than the ceaseless itching of my scars. “I want that bastard in prison.”
Technically, I want him in a hole. But I’m not quite up to committing a murder right now.
Maybe in a few weeks.
“I’ve been looking around myself.” Titus shakes his head. “As soon as the police ID’d him, I scoured his digital footprint and came up with nothing that made me think he even knew Matt, let alone would commit a murder for him.”
“There’s gotta be something. Who else would it have been?” My social life for the past decade has been virtually nonexistent. All I do is work and come home. The chances I made the kind of enemies who would want me dead are slim to none.
And the guy was in Matt’s rental car. Why the fuck would he have been in Matt’s rental car if Matt wasn’t involved?
Unfortunately, nobody else has a clue who else could have been behind it either.
Instead of banging our heads against a wall we can’t move, we spend the rest of the meeting going over shit we can do something about.
It feels good to be able to work at least in some capacity, so my spirits are up a little by the end of the meeting.
And I’m more determined than ever to earn the all-clear to go back into the office.
When my physical therapist shows up after lunch, I bust my ass, pushing as hard as I can on every exercise I’m given. I can’t believe how weak I got in such a short period of time, and I hate it. It’s been worse than the pain and worse than not being able to sleep in my bed.
Maybe even worse than not being able to service my fiancée the way I want.
By the time we’re closing in on the end of the session, I’m breathing hard and sweating. When the physical therapist suggests we finish up in the pool, I don’t hesitate to put on my trunks and get in.
I put it in for Brooke, never once expecting I would get use out of it too.
Especially not this kind of use. But ever since all my incisions were healed enough, I’ve been spending at least an hour a day walking from one side to the other, the buoyancy of the water making it possible for me to move in a way I can’t on solid ground.
Not only does it help me physically, it helps me mentally.
Gives me at least a little taste of normalcy, even if it’s not entirely accurate.
That’s why, once the appointment is over, I decide to linger in the water, enjoying just a little more time feeling almost like myself.
I’m still pacing through the water when Brooke arrives, coming in through the garage after Trevor drops her off.
She knows exactly where I am—it’s where she usually finds me when she gets home—and drops her bags off in the kitchen before coming my way.
I watch as she kicks off her shoes and begins peeling away her work clothes, tossing them over whatever chair or table is in the vicinity as she passes.
By the time she reaches the edge of the water, there’s nothing keeping my eyes from her skin.
This is by far the best part of my day. Makes me consider working from home once a week even after my body is back in shape, just so I can continue to experience this moment.
She slides straight into the water, swimming across the pool to join me on the other side. Wrapping her arms around my neck, Brooke plants a kiss on my lips. “How was your day?”
“Same as all the others.” I drag her closer, hauling her body up against mine as I support most of the weight the water isn’t on my good leg. “Boring without you here.”
“Don’t let Copper and Bruno hear you call them boring.” She hooks both legs around my waist. “You’ll hurt their feelings.”
“I think Copper could stand to have her feelings hurt a little. I can’t tell her shit now that you're back.” Any illusions I had about Copper being my dog went straight out the window once Brooke became an option. “After all I’ve done for her, you would think I’d get a little respect.”
Brooke’s smile is easy and wide. “She respects you when you have treats.”
I laugh. “No she doesn’t. She pretends to respect me.
The minute she gets what she wants, the facade is gone.
” I adjust Brooke’s positioning, using my grip on her ass to align our bodies in a more intimate way, letting her feel that while my leg might not be up to standard, certain parts of me are definitely going strong.
“Speaking of getting what she wants, is there anything I can do for you, Brooklyn Marie?”
“There’s always something you can do for me.” Brooke wiggles a little in my arms, rubbing the heat of her pussy against my dick through the fabric of my swim trunks. “I didn’t realize how spoiled I was having you available to me anytime I wanted throughout the day.”
Yet another reason I need to get my shit together. I like Brooke being spoiled. I like being there whenever she needs me, for whatever she needs me for. If I dirty a few pairs of pants in the process, so be it.
I’ve got one arm across her back, supporting her weight, my other hand going for the waistband of my shorts, when my cell phone begins to ring from the ledge beside us.
Brooke leans to peer at the screen.
“Ignore it. It’s not important.” Nowhere near as important as reminding my fiancée why she picked me.
Brooke’s brows pinch, her smile turning into a frown. “It’s Pierce.”
Is he fucking kidding? Now? He needs to call me right now?
With a sigh, I leave my pants where they are, shaking most of the water off my hand before picking up my cell and connecting the call, putting it on speaker. “This better be important.”
“It is.” Normally Pierce would give me shit back, so the fact that he doesn’t has me standing a little straighter.
My eyes meet Brooke’s as I ask, “What’s going on?”
“You told me to call you if I found anything connecting Brooke’s ex to the man who caused the accident you were in.” Pierce says the words slowly. Carefully.
Cautiously.
I don’t know what that means, but I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna like it. “What did you find?”
“Nothing. Nothing connects the two men together outside of that rental car. I’ve looked everywhere, and feel confident saying they’d never even met.”
“Fuck.” I was really hoping Pierce would come through. That I could make sure Matt suffered, not only for what he did to me, but for what he did to Brooke. “You’re kidding.”
“No. I’m not.” Pierce pauses before continuing. “However, I did discover something interesting.”
“Interesting good, or interesting bad?” I don’t know which of the two to hope for, honestly.
“That distinction will be up to you.” Pierce’s tone becomes strangely sharp when he says, “The man behind the wheel had used a number of aliases in recent years.”
“So?” I’m not really following where he’s going with this. “Was he a criminal or something?”
Maybe Matt hired him to hit me. Paid him an ungodly amount of money to risk his life to end mine. He could’ve even used a middleman. Someone to make sure—
“One of the aliases he used was Daniel Jackson.”
Pierce’s revelation stuns me, because I never saw that coming.
Brooke immediately starts firing off questions. “Daniel Jackson, as in the same alias the guy who almost killed Mariah and Maren was using?” She shakes her head, expression filled with confusion. “How is that possible? Is it normal for people to use the same name like that?”
“No. It’s not normal.” Pierce’s next words hit me from left field.
“That’s why my team and I are working on the theory that the man who hit your truck was not connected to Matt.
” His pause is short, but still provides plenty of time for dread to build in my gut.
“But he was likely affiliated with the man who set off the bomb at McKinley Security Systems.”