Chapter 18
18
“ H ow’s your pain?” the young nurse asked. She was a kind, young Black woman with braids pulled up into a high ponytail. She disconnected the plastic syringe from Jordan’s IV and smiled.
“Good, as long as you keep that medication coming,” Jordan joked.
The nurse laughed and shook her head. The pain medication they had been giving her was keeping her body aches and headache at bay. It had been rough since she had arrived at the emergency room. She had been poked, prodded, and scanned inside out.
Jordan rested back against the pillows while a warming sensation floated through her body. Whatever that med was, was certainly the good stuff. Jordan couldn’t keep a goofy grin from spreading across her face.
“I got you. We’re going to take care of you.” The nurse snorted. She moved over to computer next to the bed. She muttered something.
“What was that?” Jordan sighed.
“I said, I don’t want my boss’s husband giving me the evil eye.” She visibly shuddered while throwing a wink Jordan’s way.
“Mac is all bark,” Jordan replied smoothly.
Mac could be a little intense—okay, frightening—to those who didn’t know him. Jordan giggled at the thought of Mac terrorizing the nurses. Her sergeant had arrived at the emergency room not long after Jordan had arrived. He came plowing through the department as if he owned it. He had apparently put out the bat call to the other SWAT officers. From what she had heard the entire squad was out in the lobby waiting to come in the room, but the nurses were holding them off.
“Okay, if you say so,” the woman muttered.
Jordan couldn’t remember her name. She glanced over at the board on the wall and saw the name Neveah.
“It’s Neveah, right?” Jordan asked, wanting to make sure. With all of the pain medications she had been given, she couldn’t remember which nurse who had attended her was assigned to her. When she’d first arrived, there were so many people working around her. They had stripped her of her police uniform, and now she sat with a hospital gown on over her bra and panties. She had refused to take those off.
Neveah gave her a nod while she focused on the computer and was typing. Jordan was curious to what she was documenting but decided to leave that alone. Did she want to know that they were calling her a baby for needing medications? Nope, not at all. She would remain ignorant to anything they thought of her.
She repositioned herself on the pillows, a yawn overtaking her.
“If he bothers you—hell, if any of my team says something to you—let me know. I’ll handle them,” Jordan said and raised a fist.
Neveah turned to her with a crooked grin on her lips. “I’m fine. It’s just those guys are so intense. How do you work with them?”
“You think they are intense, you should see me when I’m not doped up on the good stuff.” Jordan laughed, holding her arm up that had the IV in it.
Neveah’s eyes widened. “You go girl. It’s good to see a Black woman in a police uniform handling business.”
A cough interrupted their conversation. An officer stood in the doorway. He was an older gentleman with a tan, salt-and-pepper hair, and a nose that looked as if it had been broken at one point and never set correctly.
“Officer Knight?” he asked.
Jordan gave a nod. Neveah waved at her and ambled out of the room, leaving Jordan alone with the newcomer.
“I’m Sergent Pat Parson. I was in charge of your accident. We need to chat,” he said. He walked forward and pushed the door slightly closed.
Jordan knew this was coming. She had hoped they would have given her enough time before coming to question her.
“Sergeant,” Jordan murmured. She sat up taller in the bed and repositioned her pillows behind her. She wished she could stand up, but the drugs they had given her were making her slightly loopy and off-balance. She cleared her throat, ready for the interrogation. Nervous butterflies filled her stomach.
This is standard procedure , she reminded herself. This wasn’t like back in Atlanta when she was interrogated about her relationship with Bravon.
This was different.
They would want to speak with her as soon as possible after the event.
“I’m just going to be straightforward and get to the point,” he said. He pulled a small notepad out of his pocket.
Jordan could respect that. There didn’t need to be any pussyfooting around the situation. He could ask his questions and leave. She tried to appear calm, but those damn butterflies in her stomach were fluttering harder. She wasn’t sure why she was feeling so anxious. She cleared her throat again and focused on the sergeant.
“Mind if I come in?” a familiar voice sounded in the doorway. Even though it was a question, the person truly wasn’t asking.
Relief filled Jordan at the sight of Mac. He was dressed in a black CPD t-shirt, cargo pants, and boots. His badge hung around his neck while he also had his weapon in a holster on his hip. He shot a glare at Parson as he entered the room. Mac strolled over to her and gently rested a hand for a moment on her shoulder, going to stand by the window near her. The move meant everything to Jordan. It signified that had he had her back. She threw him a small smile of thanks.
“Of course you are welcome, Sergeant MacArthur.” Parson’s hand shook slightly as he clicked his pen. He glanced down at his book before looking over at Jordan. “Let’s start at the beginning, please. What prompted you to pursue the original SUV?”
Jordan shared the story of finishing her one stop where she gave a warning and then what was witnessed by the SUV. It was standard. Any cop would have followed behind the vehicle to investigate. Parson jotted down a few notes but didn’t interrupt her. They moved on to her call for assistance. He asked questions regarding the dispatcher, the response, and the time frame the other police cars arrived.
Jordan answered all questions truthfully. She had nothing to hide regarding the pursuit. Mac remained quiet while the questioning went on, but Jordan knew him well enough to know he was reserving his questions for her for later when the sergeant left. It was Parson’s next question that had Jordan hesitating.
“Why do you think you were targeted in this attack?” Parson asked.
Jordan froze and stared at him. She glanced over at Mac who’s expression didn’t give away what he was thinking. His gaze shifted from Parson to her while they waited for her to answer.
“What do you mean?” Jordan asked, turning back to Parson. Dammit. How would he have known that this was a blatant attempt on her life and not some random cop? She had kept all her answers to his question generalized and factual without implying that this had anything to do with her personally.
“Let’s review what happened. You pursued a vehicle who clearly knew you would see them break the traffic law and go after them. They led you away to where another vehicle could join in, and then from what reports of witnesses have said, boxed you in then a third vehicle came and t-boned your vehicle. Does this sum up the events?” Parson asked.
The memory of everything that happened flashed before her eyes. A slight twinge of the headache was creeping back in. Jordan didn’t—couldn’t—let on that she agreed it was intentional. That would open up a whole new can of worms she couldn’t afford to deal with at this particular moment.
“Just because it was me in the patrol car doesn’t mean they targeted me exactly. That could have been any officer at that light. Maybe this was an act against the police and I just happened to be the unlucky one in that area at that particular time,” Jordan replied. She reached up and tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. She met Parson’s gaze steadily as she waited for him to continue.
“Why would you think they would have targeted Officer Knight?” Mac’s low voice startled Jordan.
She hadn’t expected him to speak while she was being questioned.
“Why wouldn’t I think they weren’t targeting her?” Sergeant Parson roared back.
Jordan’s eyes widened at the change in the sergeant.
“Were you not listening?” he asked.
Someone had grown balls. This was definitely a different disposition since Mac had first entered the room.
A muscle in Mac’s jawline jumped, but he didn’t take the bait. He waited for the other sergeant to continue. Parson ran a trembling hand along his face. He slid his notebook into his pocket and the pen in a chest slot of his uniform.
“Sir, I do not think they were targeting me specifically?—”
“Knight, let the man finish,” Mac growled. He pushed off the windowsill where he had propped himself and stood to his full height. He casually folded his arms while shooting Parson a glare.
Jordan swallowed hard. She knew that look. She rested back against the pillow while her sergeant handled Parson.
“Since he wants to insinuate that someone is specifically targeting a member of my team, and if that is the case, then they will have to deal with not just her, but all of SWAT.”
Parson swallowed hard. His eyes were wide as he tried to return Mac’s stare. After about two seconds, he glanced over at Jordan.
“From what we gathered, it appeared to be a direct hit against Officer Knight. We haven’t had any act against the CPD in years?—”
“Oh, you mean patrol cops or cops who act like they are managing the scene of a crime?” Mac cut in. His scowl grew even deeper. He marched over to Parson.
Jordan scrambled to the edge of the bed, ready to intervene between the two men if need be. Damn any side effects from the pain medication. Whatever had been floating around in her system was long gone.
Parson took a step back but then halted as Mac came to stand in front of him. Mac towered over the older sergeant by at least four inches.
“Knight is a member of SWAT, therefore under my protection. If you truly think someone is after her, then you need to cut the bullshit and tell me everything you know now.” His words ended on a growl.
Jordan stood slightly from the bed. She tilted off to the side for a brief moment before righting herself.
Mac glanced over at his shoulder at her. “Bed.”
His low command had her flying back to where he’d commanded her. Parson was on his own. Jordan slid back onto the mattress and pulled the blanket over her. She stared wide-eyed at Mac’s back. He turned back to Parson once he was satisfied she had obeyed.
“Look, Mac. I’m just going off of?—”
“So you have no real proof?” Mac bit out.
“No, not yet. We still need to look into some leads,” Parson stuttered. If there was ever a live action of someone sweating bullets, it was this man right now. A few trails of sweat slid down along his hairline and disappeared underneath his shirt collar.
“Go do your little investigation, and then I expect you to report everything you learn to me,” Mac said.
Parson nodded. His audible gulp was the only sound in the room. He sidestepped Mac and headed toward the door. He didn’t even glance backward at them as he disappeared through it.
Mac paused for a second before turning to her. His gaze softened from the deadly glare to the concerned big brother look. Mac was a bulldog when it came to her and the other members of SWAT. He was the protective older sibling who took responsibility of them all. “You good?”
Jordan nodded, feeling herself become choked up with emotions. She had to tell him everything. There was no doubt that Mac needed to know what was going on. After this day, it was apparent that Jordan couldn’t do this alone. She would need a team to have her six.
Maybe one day, Rhys would understand why she needed to leave. Once she left the hospital, she would go and have the dreaded conversation, pull her heart out of her chest and leave it with him, because that was where it would belong.
“I never got a chance to say thanks for coming.” Jordan cleared her throat.
Mac stood at the foot of the bed. A small ghost of a smile hinted on his lips.
“That’s what I’m here for, Knight,” he replied.
Jordan blew out a deep breath. It was now or never to have the conversation with her sergeant.
“Look, Mac. There’s something I need to get off my chest?—”
“Knock, knock,” a voice and knuckles rapping on the door interrupted her.
Brodie, Myles, and Ash tumbled through the door while Iker, Zain, and Declan followed behind them. Jordan laughed at their silliness. The guys held grins and smiles on their faces, but she saw the concern in their eyes immediately. She fought back tears to know these men truly cared for her. Ash carried a bouquet of multicolored balloons over to the windowsill while Iker tossed her a stuffed bear.
“We heard these things can cheer a person up,” Iker said.
Jordan caught the bear and turned it around. It had a bow tie around its neck with the words ‘get well soon’ imprinted on it.
“Why are flowers in the hospital so damn expensive?” Myles muttered. He placed the vase he carried next to the balloons.
“Why are you so damn cheap?” Ash snickered.
Chuckles filled the room. They all took turns coming over to her to either hug her or muss her hair with their large hands. Jordan didn’t care what she looked like at the moment. She just knew that these men were her family.
Mac had moved over to the wall and propped himself against it while everyone tried to fit in the small, enclosed space.
“What are the doctors saying?” Brodie asked.
The room fell silent as they waited for her to respond.
“Just a few bumps and bruises.” Jordan grimaced. She shifted in the bed, trying to get comfortable. If she felt like this now, what the hell was she going to feel like tomorrow or the next day? But she wasn’t going to let on to the guys how much pain she truly was in. “I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”
“Don’t think you are coming back to work tomorrow,” Declan announced.
“What?” She gasped. As long as her legs and arms moved, she had breath in her lungs, she would be reporting for duty.
“You were just in a MVA that could have taken your life. You aren’t to report to work,” Mac said.
She glanced between her two sergeants, and neither of them were budging on this decision. Maybe she could call the captain and let him know how she was fairing and that she didn’t need to be sitting at home.
Hell, Bravon’s men weren’t going to give her time to recover. She needed to stay active. Keep her guard up and figure out how the hell she was going to fight back.
“For how long?” she asked.
“You know this is standard procedure. The captain will issue the order for how long,” Mac replied smoothly.
Jordan rolled her eyes. Standard procedure, her ass. None of them had ever taken that much time off when it came to injuries, so she hoped they didn’t think she would be. She may have pain and be sore, but her trigger finger moved without issue. Her hand automatically formed a fist as if to prove a point.
Yup, there was nothing wrong with her shooting hand.
“And what the hell am I supposed to do at home?” she muttered.
“There is something called relaxation and healing,” Zain said.
She glanced over at him and stuck her tongue out. It was immature, but who the hell cared? She felt like stomping her foot in frustration at the thought of being made to sit home for a week. “I’m sure Omara will help you learn what that is.”
Her head snapped back to him.
Fuck.
“You didn’t tell her?—”
“I did, and she and Jason are in the waiting area. She told us we could come back first,” Zain replied smoothly. His smile disappeared, and he suddenly became serious. He didn’t have to say what he probably wanted to. Jordan already knew. Her sister was hurt that she hadn’t called her.
She winced at the thought of having to face her sister from a hospital bed. Jordan remembered how much Omara had doted on Zain when he had gotten injured. The man had gotten hit in the head with a baseball bat—twice—and had a concussion from it. Her sister was by his side twenty-four seven.
“Jordan.” Mac’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
She glanced over at him and found him staring at her. She didn’t miss Declan going over to the door and shutting it. The walls closed in on her. She already knew what he was about to say before he opened his mouth. She nodded.
“Now that we are all here, we need to know what the fuck is going on?”
Jordan slowly eyed her entire team. All smiles and signs of joking were gone. Tension filled the air as they all waited for her. These men had entrusted their lives with her every single time they had gone out on a call. She owed them this.
There was no more running from the truth or hiding her darkest secrets from them. It was time to come clean, and if they shunned her, then she would have to deal with it. Captain Spook had encouraged her to tell her side of the story to them, but she had hesitated. Had she waited too long?
“Remember the texts we all received?” she asked.
Brodie had tried to track down where the messages had come from but failed. They were left in the dark on who had sent the messages. She beat down the bile that was attempting to expel itself from her stomach. She could do this. They would listen to her.
“Well, I received a different message than you all.”
A pin drop could have been heard. The men didn’t even appear as if they were breathing. Jordan glanced down at her hands. She had never been so nervous in her life. To think that these men who she had come to think of as brothers may not want anything to do with her again sent a sharp pain through her chest.
“What did yours say?” Mac broke the silence.
She sniffed and raised her head to meet his gaze.
“Your twenty-four hours are up,” she cited the text she had received from memory. Those words had haunted her.
Curses lined the room. Jordan held Mac’s unwavering gaze. He had to know that she would never break the bond she had with her team.
“Knight, there’s no way?—”
The room exploded in chaos.
“Knight isn’t a traitor,” Mac interjected and held up a hand.
The room fell silent. Their leader pushed off the wall and came to stand at the foot of her bed. Jordan’s skin prickled as she felt everyone’s eyes land on her.
“Tell us everything.”