27. Corm
Chapter 27
Corm
T he double door springs open, and I glimpse familiar faces and stop my pacing.
Cal and his wife barrel in. Their shoes squeak obscenely on the linoleum floor, adding another atrocity to the disinfectant-infused air and my overall agony.
The harsh fluorescent light casts a menacing look on my business partner’s face, but as he gets closer, the look remains.
It’s full of fury, worry, and helplessness. It mirrors the turmoil swirling inside me.
Cal’s expression hardens as he takes in my blood-stained shirt. His nostrils flare, and he clenches his fists. It does shit for his composure, because he still launches at me.
Gripping my collar, he pushes me against the wall. “You fucking use my sister, and then you can’t protect her?”
I push him off, but secretly, I want him to punch me. Not to give me an excuse to return the hit, but to finally feel some other pain. Physical pain is so much easier to deal with.
“Really?” I smirk. “She was shot by a man who had been taking advantage of her for years. Where the fuck were you all that time?”
“Merde.” Cal’s wife puts her hand on his shoulder. It’s a tender touch followed by stern words. “Stop it right now, you idiots.” She looks at me. “Where is she? What’s the status?”
Her hand on his shoulder has an immediate effect. He’s still vibrating with anger and worry, but he exhales heavily.
Something I haven’t been able to do for the past two hours. I fucking hate him for having that level of comfort. For having his person beside him.
Accusing Cal of anything is a shitty thing to do, but I want to do shitty things right now.
I want to kill someone—Vito, in the first place—and punish someone for what happened to Saar tonight. And all the years before tonight.
I want to take my anger out on someone because I’m a coward. Because it’s easier to throw punches than to look in the mirror and accept that it’s all my fault.
I should have prevented that.
If only I had stepped in front of her faster. If only I had increased the security after Vito disappeared. If only we had come home earlier. The if onlys have been eating me alive.
“She is in surgery. One bullet grazed her head. The other one ended in her arm. They are taking it out right now.”
Cal rakes his hair and swears. Celeste takes a fortifying breath, tears pooling in her eyes as she rubs her pregnant belly.
“Okay,” she says. “Cal, send someone to get a clean shirt for him. I’m going to call Lily and Cora.” She goes into action mode, like that can make the situation better. She turns to me. “Is your brother on his way?”
I stare at her blankly, and she rolls her eyes.
“Cal,” she snaps, and he pulls his phone out.
On some level, I guess doing something, any nonsensical thing, keeps the mind occupied. But I can’t deal with people right now.
I resume my pacing. In the next half hour, Roxy arrives with clean clothes for me. Someone shoves a coffee into my hand. Saar’s other brother, Finn, and his wife show up.
And then the friends, Cora and Lily, I think. I remember them from Cal’s vows renewal last Christmas.
I’m glad she has them in her life. I’m kind of grateful they are here, I think. At the same time, they grind on my nerves.
All the silent gazes, whispered words, unspoken accusations, and the fucking behemoth of worry they bring with them are unbearable.
When the double doors open again, I groan. Dorothy Quinn walks into the hallway, dressed in a simple wrap dress and without makeup, and yet looking very put-together.
And while I am still not ready to face her, her presence somehow makes the harsh light softer, the cold room warmer, the bleak situation slightly more bearable.
“Declan had to stay with the children.” She wraps me in her arms, and I somehow get lost in her embrace, even though she is at least a foot shorter than me.
Her hug is… it’s all it used to be when I was a little boy, and just like a little boy, a sob escapes me.
I tame the fucker, and don’t let everyone see me broken, but, fuck, it’s hard to pretend I’m whole.
Mom pats my back and ushers me away from the group as if she knows me. Because she fucking does.
She opens some door and pushes me inside an exam room, where I’m pretty sure we shouldn’t be. She pulls me into another hug. “Let it out, son.”
And fuck, if this woman doesn’t know how to kill me with her love and compassion. I let go and sob. “I should have—”
“No should-haves. Cry because you’re sorry. Cry because you’re sad. It’s okay. Let go. But I’m not letting you blame yourself for anything that happened tonight. Unless it was you who pulled the trigger.” She pushes me to a chair, hands me a handkerchief, and holds my shoulder.
I lower my head to my palms. The pain, spreading like acid, burns my throat, chars my chest cavity, singes my stomach.
“I love her.” Not sure why I’m clarifying that.
“She’s a great woman. I’m happy for you.”
I wipe the stupid tears. “You met her?”
Mom shrugs, a coy smile on her face.
“I’m sorry I ignored you for so long.” I lower my head.
“Well, you owe me some quality mother/son time, but let’s focus on your wife now.”
My wife.
She felt so mine just a few hours ago, but it’s so easy to fall into that illusion when I’m around Saar.
“According to the latest update, the injuries are not life-threatening. Let’s go back in case there is more news.” Mom swipes her hands over my shoulders, adjusting my now-clean shirt, like looking presentable is what matters now.
“How do you know?”
“I’m on the board here, didn’t you know?” She shakes her head and gives me a peck on my cheek.
“Thank you, Mom.” I stand, my legs shaking, and reach for the door handle.
“Corm, this might not be the right time, but I guess...” She trails off, and then takes a deep breath and continues, “Your father was never home. After Declan was born, Connor dived into work. I lost a baby girl a year later, and we grew apart. I was alone with my grief. He was working in the office to deal with his.
“I met a man, and he was there, listening, available, charming. But being with him made me realize how much I loved your father, and it made me fight harder for him. He forgave me, he accepted his role in my affair, and he accepted you with love. You became the reason we healed.”
I bow my head, shaking it. “If you’re trying to distract me, it’s not working. I don’t have the capacity to deal with this.”
“What I’m trying to say is that you deserve love. I’m glad you stopped pushing it away, but it’s in times like these when we need to embrace love rather than anger and fear.”
I swallow around the lump in my throat. I want to retort that that’s easier said than done , but Saar deserves better. Saar deserves all my affection.
She’s had enough of my bullying and power-tripping. She deserves better. I might not be the best she deserves, but fuck, I’ll try to be that for her.
And hopefully, she will learn to trust me.
But that hope dies before I can allow it to fully blossom.