85. Deacon
Chapter 85
Deacon
It’s too much of the same. My life is one cycle after another. Sitting here in this same temporary hospital room, I’m facing the mortality of the people I love all over again. Cade, Ezra, Dinah, Thalia, Lena, Ansel, and now Henri. Too many people have almost been taken from me. My own mortality isn’t an issue, but how could I picture a world separate from Henri?
Without any of my loved ones, the sun wouldn’t dare shine, the wind wouldn’t blow, and the rain wouldn’t even bother trying to fall from the sky.
Underneath my fear for Henri’s life, rage is brewing, but Doctor Thorpe said the surgery was completely necessary. Without medical intervention, Henri would have died.
We’re wolves.
We’re damn near indestructible.
But Nathan dented Henri.
No, not dented, he broke her.
“Deacon.” Cade keeps his voice down.
I shake my head, unable to move from her side. It’s not like with Lena. Nobody who could stay here with her loves her anywhere near as much as I do. “If I walk out of this room, she’ll be alone.”
My eyes are locked on Henri, and I flinch when a hand lands on my shoulder.
A quick glance tells me the small, delicate fingers belong to Lena. “Go with Cade. I’ll be here, and that means Finn won’t be far away either.”
I shake my head, and the stupid room is foggy with my tears.
“I know.” Lena comes to stand partly in front of me but doesn’t block my view of Henri. “You can’t leave her alone because no one loves her as much as you do.”
“It’s annoying how much you know about me.” I glare at her.
“Yes, well, years of your bullshit, and I’ve gotten pretty good at figuring you out.” She squats down, putting her hand on mine, and looks up at me with the softness in her eyes that melts me every fucking time. “You and Cade need to talk.”
When she tugs on my hand, I stand up and plant a kiss as softly as I can on the small portion of Henri’s forehead that isn’t bruised.
Get information from Cade. Then we’ll go and kill the asshole, my wolf demands, and it brings to life the darkness that lurks inside me wanting bloodshed. The brewing rage deep in my consciousness stirred.
Cade, waiting in the hallway, inclines his head toward the other end of the hall. We walk past Finn, who leans against a wall, watching the hospital room with laser focus.
Down two hallways, we’re at some sort of lab, and Dinah is looking at one of the computers.
With a quick glance around the room, I find a clock on the wall. It’s after suppertime, so I guess that’s enough time for her to get here.
“Thanks for coming.” I give her a nod but focus back on Cade. The sooner I get done dealing with him, the faster I’m back at Henri’s bedside.
“Of course.” Dinah gives me a soft smile. “I’m starting to think, though, that emergencies are the only way this family gets together anymore.”
“Hey,” Cade argues, “I just saw you for New Year’s.”
“Ugh. Fine.” Dinah rolls her eyes.
“Really, assholes? Not the time,” I snap. “What do you want?”
Dinah clears her throat. “It’s really early to say for sure. But, Deacon, I want you to be prepared for the very real possibility that Henri miscarries.”
As if the pain I’d felt before was child’s play, the dark and heavy emotions awaken from shallow graves in my heart.
I put my hand over my mouth to silence myself. A scream, a sob, a string of curses and threats —no, promises—of bloodshed are all there waiting to escape. Demanding to be heard.
Nearly dead, lying in a hospital bed, and fighting to heal, she needs me to hold it together. Only one of us can fall apart at a time.
To fall apart and put myself back together again in whatever time she’s slumbering is going to be the hardest part. My whole body feels like it’s being pulled into this vacuum, and the weight of it pulls me under.
I blink when the room becomes completely unrecognizable through my tears. Neither Cade nor Dinah moves to comfort me, and that’s okay because if someone touches me right now, I’m going to break apart.
I can’t fall apart now. The thought is on repeat. How many times in the last ten seconds have I thought that?
Don’t fall apart. Not right here. Not right now. Don’t fall apart .
The intensity of the black hole is too much, and my hand falls away from my mouth.
That’s when Cade wraps me in a hug. Dinah follows. It’s a group hug.
Dinah steps over next to me and strokes my hair, and I know she, of all people, understands my loss on a cosmic level.
My knees buckle, and Cade slowly drops with me to the floor.
“He’ll pay for this, Deacon.” Dinah assures me. I lean into her legs. “All the imaginable things we can do, we will do.”
The darkness that’s bloomed in her over the past few years plays well with mine. But she keeps it contained since she got her pounds of flesh.
“I’ll tell her.” My voice is locked in a snarl, cracking under the strain.
It’s the first words I manage but the only important words needing to be said.
Cade’s phone vibrates, but he doesn’t look at it. It stops but picks up again and again. “Fucking what else could go wrong today?”
He pulls it out of his pocket and looks at the screen. “God, she’s got the worst timing.” Cade answers his phone, the irritation biting at his words. “Yes, Revecca.” He hands it to me. “It’s for you.”
I take it, confused by her calling Cade for me, until I remember the accident and the fact I don’t know where my phone is. “Hello?”
“I’m so sorry.” Revecca sounds sad.
“How the fuck do you know al—” I stop myself. “Finn or your gift?”
“Both,” Revecca admits. “Are you holding up?”
“Only one of us can fall apart at a time.” I get that thought out into the world, hoping once it’s spoken, it’ll leave my head. That I’ll be able to just be strong by speaking it into existence. But that doesn’t stop it from ruminating. “I’ll have to be stable for her when she wakes up.”
“I understand.” Revecca pauses. “If it’s too overwhelming. I’ll come and borrow your gift back. Please, Deacon, seeing you and your wolf hurt more... Don’t be too proud to ask for assistance.”
“I hear you,” I answer. “I love you too. Want to talk to the idiot?”
Cade rolls his eyes.
“No, I only called him because your phone did not seem to be available.” She sighs. “Give him my kindest regards.”
“Will do, speak later.” I hang up before this can turn into a Midwest goodbye. “Revecca says you don’t suck as much as she originally thought you did.”
Dinah chuckles. “The more I see of her, the less she sucks than I originally thought.”
It’s not until I’m standing that I realized I got up off the ground, time and autopilot seemingly kicking in. “I need a few minutes. I’ll just be in the courtyard. Shout if she wakes up?”
“I’d like to keep her under until tomorrow morning at the earliest.” Dinah nods. “If you want to go home, change, grab some?—”
My vehement head shaking convinces her to stop offering.
I walk away knowing they’re worried about me. It’s well placed.
Outside in the courtyard, I walk in erratic lines because I can’t settle into a rhythm to pace. I force deep breaths into my lungs, begging them to stay expanded while my heart cries for sweet and utter silence.
My wolf is howling. Grief and rage run in mismatched patterns in my mind. The sun is finally beginning its descent, and soon, welcomed darkness will cover the night sky .
With one step, I ache being away from her, but in the next step, guilt tells me I should stay away.
Stay entirely away. Without you here, she wouldn’t be in that bed. She wouldn’t be near grieving the loss of our child.
Lena pokes her head out the door. “Don’t yell at me. Cade, Thalia, and Finn are with her.”
She holds her phone out to me, the red case glinting. “Call him.”
I don’t have to ask who she wants me to call. It’s who I’ve always called.
The minute her little phone is in my hand, I debate pocketing it and ignoring her instructions. But I thumb open the screen using the biometric scanner that, for whatever reason, she wanted me to be able to use. His number is already queued up on the screen, so I hit call.
“Deacon,” Ezra answers.
“Funny since I called from Lena’s phone.” I laugh, but it’s humorless.
“Deductive reasoning.” Ezra sighs. The other side of the line picks up frogs, nighttime birds, and insects. “Primary thought?”
“If I wasn’t here, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place.” I flop down in two general motions, uncaring that the earth is hard when it breaks my fall.
“Try again, kid,” Ezra tells me like there are more than a handful of years between us.
“Why does this fucking hurt so much?” The hot, angry tears are back. “It’s not like it was even really a thing. It was weeks. It wasn’t a lot more than some divided cells.”
“Stop,” Ezra growls. He draws a deep breath, and I follow his example. His words come with a relaxed candor, each one chosen with care. “We both do this. We forget that we’re not immune to grief and loss because we can think past and beyond it. You have been denied the opportunity to ever know this child. It’s not like you can hear them or speak with them when they’re gone, and that must be an incredibly difficult concession for you to have to make. Because as much as it sucks that the ancestors literally give you no peace, you’re used to knowing that it’s not goodbye.”
He’s right. While I’ve been lucky enough not to be haunted by the people who raised us and Robert, it’s always been a possibility. Much like Morrigan’s dad, I could try and find them.
Silence sits between us, and I don’t even know what to say anymore.
My wolf hasn’t stopped thrashing in my mind. My body being prone on the ground isn’t suitable enough for him and his rage. “Fuck, I’d kill for a drink.”
“You won’t do that.” Ezra takes a minute. “Just to remind you... If you weren’t there, she’d be dead.”
“If I weren’t here, she wouldn’t have pissed him off this badly,” I counter.
Not one to let me win, Ezra is firm but controlled. “If you weren’t there, he would have found another reason.”
“You don’t know that,” I argue.
“As much as I’d love to agree that I can’t know that.” Ezra blows out a long exhale. “You won’t ever convince me that Henri’s abuser wasn’t the same as Dinah’s. We’ve lived through this before and came out thriving on the other side.”
“What do I do, Ez?” I close my eyes, listening for some sort of divine answer.
He snorts. “What we always do, Deacon. You do what we always do.”
“I’ve squandered my most recent idea,” I admit with a snarl. “Stupid fucking Finn. Too chaotic good. It took him way too long to make a move. I won’t wait though. ”
“Hey, what was it you wanted to talk to me about? A car?” He starts a cryptic conversation. “You were saying there was someone else who was interested in it?”
“Well, that would require me getting in contact with the buyer, but I suppose it’s worth it.” My wolf settles with those words.
Grace’s news article and the knowledge from the morgue told a tale of abuse, death, and the covering up of a crime. But it wasn’t a crime I had considered.
“Double-check and be sure the mechanic does good work. Wouldn’t want you to buy a lemon,” Ezra encourages.
Justice for both Grace and Hen.
“Alright.” Having a plan keeps the thoughts of not being here at bay.
The wolf settles, accepting my willingness to right the wrong of the universe. His commitment to behaving stops the urge to put him under by any means necessary. It’s a gentleman’s agreement. Silent but effective.