Dark Star (21 page)

Read Dark Star Online

Authors: Roslyn Holcomb

Tags: #bwwm, #interracial romance, #rock star sequel, #multicultural, #anthrax, #terrorism, #smallpox

Deringer lifted Nate in his arms with the
help of one of the security guards and they followed Tonya back
upstairs. Without a thought she went to her bedroom. The bed in the
other room wasn’t made and she didn’t want to waste valuable time
making it. Besides, she had no doubt that Deringer would be staying
and he needed a place to sleep as well. At least, that’s what she
told herself. In reality, she simply wanted Nate as close to her as
possible and that meant sleeping in her bed. She shoved the covers
off, leaving only the bottom sheet and pillows, then turned to help
Deringer lower Nate to the bed. Looking down at his nearly
unconscious face, she couldn’t resist the urge and kissed him
lightly on the lips. He managed a slight smile in response.

Deringer immediately stepped away from the
bed and pulled out his phone. She could hear him yelling at
someone, but her attention was totally focused on Nate.

Deringer came back over to the bed where she
was removing Nate’s shoes. He had a bandage wrapped around his
torso under his loose-fitting t-shirt, and his disreputable looking
jeans had several tears, but knowing Nate the damage wasn’t
necessarily recent. Deringer stepped back over to the bed.

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he said,
giving her security detail a pointed look.

Tonya stepped away from the bed reluctantly.
“What is it?”

“Can you get rid of these guys?”

“But what about -- ” She didn’t want to
mention any names.

“Taken care of...but my friends can’t come
with them in the house.”

“Okay. No problem.” She walked back out into
the living room, the one security guard following her.

Callie sprang up from the sofa where she had
been sitting holding her babies in her arms. “What’s going on?”

Good grief! She’d forgotten all about Callie.
How stupid she’d been to let her bring her children into this
dangerous situation.

“Is Nate going to be okay?” Callie asked. “I
thought he was dead.”

“I thought so too, but I think he’ll be
alright now. Look, I can’t tell you what’s going on yet, but I need
you to go on home.”

Callie nodded. “Yeah, it’s time for the kid’s
nap. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Let me have one of these guys
follow you to make sure you get home.”

Callie shook her head. “No. That would only
worry Bryan.”

“I’m sure that’s true. I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

Tonya sighed as Callie and the kids walked
out the door. She knew the other woman was deeply hurt that she
wasn’t sharing the details of what was going on with her, but it
was just too dangerous. Right now she didn’t even know the whole
story herself. She rubbed her eyes, holding back the easy tears of
exhaustion. She hadn’t been sleeping well, and now with Nate having
returned injured she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon.
She took a moment to dismiss the security detail, and then returned
to the room where Nate lay.

“Okay, they’re gone. Is he unconscious?” she
asked Deringer.

“No, I think he’s just sleeping.”

“When do you think help will be
arriving?”

“They should be here at any minute.”

“Why on earth wouldn’t he go to a hospital?”
she asked.

“Bullet wounds mean cops.”

“That doesn’t explain coming here. I assume
your Department has plans in place for these situations.”

“No it doesn’t make sense, but it’s not my
story to tell,” Deringer said.

Tonya gave the man a frustrated glance, but
decided not to waste anymore time. She looked down at Nate who did
seem to be asleep, though really she didn’t have enough experience
to know the difference. At first she moved to pull the covers over
him, but decided to remove his jeans instead. They had to be very
uncomfortable. Her first thought was to simply cut off the ripped
and stained jeans as they looked ready for the trash, but Deringer
advised they were actually Nate’s favorites. She shook her head at
his sartorial choices, but the man had been through enough besides
she was pretty sure she could remove them without jostling him too
much. Deringer came over to the bed to help her, and they got them
off with little trouble. She stood at the foot of the bed holding
one of his long elegant feet. Terrified beyond measure that he
would die she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Then she
pulled the covers up to his shoulders. Deringer stood beside her,
silent as usual. When she spoke her voice sounded raw even to her
own ears. “He’s not going to die. I won’t let him.”

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,”
Deringer said.

 

It didn’t take long for the Department’s
medical team, or cutters as Nate called them, to arrive. Both men
were tall, but while one was thin, almost emaciated, the other was
buff and muscular. It was obvious from their mannerisms and the
vocabulary they used that both were doctors or at least close to
it. Tonya was surprised by the amount of equipment they brought
with them, including a portable x-ray machine. She moved to the
other side of the bed to give them room, but refused to leave while
they examined Nate. They moved in the brisk efficient way of
medical professionals everywhere. Tonya flinched a couple of times,
as it was obvious that they hurt Nate. She held his hand as they
put in a chest tube. He cried out during the procedure though he
was sedated. She was just about to unleash with some powerful
cussing when they finally finished.

They had installed an IV line with
painkillers and antibiotics, so now Nate was resting more
comfortably. The cutters had retreated to the kitchen where
Deringer was making coffee and other refreshments, but Tonya
remained in the room sitting beside the bed. Watching. Just
watching Nate. He was definitely breathing more easily without that
rasp that had so frightened her earlier. The medics told her that
the bullet hadn’t pierced his lung. However, the impact of his
cracked rib slamming into his lung had bruised it pretty badly,
causing immense amounts of fluid to build up in his chest cavity.
That pressure was making it difficult for him to breathe. The tube
should alleviate that problem. According to them, pneumonia was his
greatest danger, but he was a young healthy man, and they’d given
him antibiotics in his IV, so he was probably through the worst of
it.

“Why don’t you go get a bite to eat?”
Deringer asked from the doorway.

Tonya shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

Neither said anything more for a moment. “You
know watching him like that will wake him up. It’s hard to rest
when someone’s watching you, especially with our training. We sleep
lightly anyway. He’s probably only asleep now because they pumped
enough drugs in him to take down a caribou.”

Tonya immediately rose from her chair. She
had no experience with sick or wounded people, but Deringer did.
The last thing she wanted was to hinder Nate’s progress.

“Where did the cutters go?” she asked.

“They’re going to bunk in the other bedroom
for the night. I set up the inflatable bed, so they should be okay.
I’ll take the couch. Come on and have some coffee. He’ll need you
later.”

Tonya frowned. If the cutters were going to
stay maybe Nate was in worse shape than they’d let on, but when she
asked Deringer about it he shook his head.

“No. They’re not from around here, but they
need to check on him through the rest of the night. They can’t do
that from a hotel.”

That made sense. With one last look at Nate,
Tonya followed Deringer into the kitchen for coffee.

She took a couple sips of the potent liquid;
he made it black tar heroin strong so it was sure to keep her awake
all night. “Did he tell you what happened?”

“Not the details, no.”

“How did he get shot?”

Deringer shrugged. “I have no idea. I assume
it happened when he escaped, but I’m not sure.”

“So how do you know the Rooster is dead?”

“He told me.”

“Well if he told you that why didn’t he tell
you how he got shot?”

“When I found him he was half-dead in a tree.
Do you really think I took a helluva lot of time asking for the
details?”

He was right of course. There would be plenty
of time to ask Nate when he woke up. Standing there at the kitchen
counter, she stared into space, not really seeing anything, but
listening intently for any sound from Nate.

Deringer took a long sip of his coffee. “Tell
me about Roshonda.”

Tonya took a deep breath, struggling to keep
up with the subject change. “What?”

“Tell me about Roshonda.”

“Why do you want to know?”

He gave her a pointed look. “Why do you think
I want to know?”

“You mean you’re interested in her? As a
man?” she barely squeaked out.

“What else would I be interested in her as? A
wildebeest?” Deringer said.

“I thought you might be trying to distract me
from asking questions you don’t want to answer.”

“There is that.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you want to
know Ro’s business you have to ask Ro. Just one thing, she’s my
friend and if you’re just playing with her you’ll have me to deal
with.”

“Fair enough. Now do you want a sandwich or
something else to eat?”

 

The next few hours were some of the most
difficult Tonya had ever experienced. Despite the medication he’d
been given, Nate didn’t have a restful sleep. He cried out
continuously, mostly in French but she understood some of what he
was saying. His piteous cries of loneliness, of needing and missing
her broke her heart and brought her to tears more than once. The
cutters assured her that he didn’t have a fever and wasn’t
delirious. Apparently the stress from the gunshot wound had
triggered nightmares and flashbacks. Finally they gave him an
anti-anxiety drug, which helped him rest. Even so, and in spite of
Deringer’s warning, she spent most of the night watching the rise
and fall of his battered chest, too terrified to leave for more
than a few minutes. Thinking about how he’d come close to death
again, this time protecting her made her shudder with almost
uncontrollable fear. If he’d died trying to save her...

* * * * *

“What are you doing sitting there?” Nate
asked. It was the second time he’d awakened in the past seven
hours. The other time he’d just smiled at her and drifted back to
sleep.

Tonya sat up in the recliner she’d curled up
in. “Watching you.” She rose to her feet, stretching out the
soreness from sitting up all night. “I need to let the cutters know
you’re awake.”

“Wait a minute. How long have you been
sitting there?”

“A while,” she said with a shrug. “Seriously,
I need to get them.”

“Okay, but come back.”

Tonya nodded as she rushed out of the room.
When she returned with the medics she thought for a moment that
he’d fallen asleep again, but he turned his head to face the door
when they came back in.

As they went over medical questions with
Nate, she stood on the opposite side of the bed watching. Finally
they pronounced him in good shape and removed the IV. They gave
Tonya detailed instructions for maintaining the chest tube and
promised to return in a couple of days to remove it. After checking
their patient over one more time and ensuring he had proper pain
medication they departed. Tonya watched them leave a bit nervously,
not really sure she could handle a patient, but desperately wanting
to try.

“Have you had any sleep at all?”

“I wasn’t sleepy.”

“Why don’t you lie down with me?” he
asked.

“So I can finish what the Rooster started and
put that rib right through your lung?”

“Not going to happen. They’ve got me swaddled
up like King Tut, little sister,” he said. “I can’t rest knowing
you’re not sleeping. It’s a big bed.”

Then what had he been doing all this time she
wanted to ask, instead she simply nodded. She was tired, so she lay
down on the bed, but as far away from him as possible.

“If you don’t move over here where I can at
least touch you I’m going to move over there.”

She immediately scooted over and took his
hand. Their mutual sighs were audible in the room. Tonya felt as
though she had finally reconnected with something long lost and now
her soul could rest. And like that, holding hands they both drifted
off to sleep.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Thirteen

“I seriously wonder if you have any active
brain cells at all.”

Roshonda nearly jumped out of her skin as she
wheeled around to face Deringer. How the hell did he keep doing
this?

“Stop sneaking up on me.” She’d worked late
and was really too tired to deal right now. The store was buzzing
with business, probably because of all the publicity from Tonya’s
disappearance and return. And the new spa had suddenly developed
some cash flow problems. Tonya had been taking care of Nate for the
past week, and Roshonda didn’t have the heart to ask for help.
Callie had finally returned to L.A. to get ready to give birth.
There was nobody available to put out all the fires, and she’d
spent most of the day on the phone with banks and financiers. Not
exactly her idea of fun, and now this guy was going to top off a
really sucky day.

“Who was sneaking? Hell I could’ve come
through here with a marching band with as much attention as you
were paying your surroundings. What in the hell are you doing out
here by yourself after dark?” Deringer asked.

“Are you crazy? This is Maple Fork, Alabama.
Everybody in this town knows me. Nobody will hurt me.” The tiny
six-car parking lot was well lit and visible from the street. Only
an idiot would try anything there. All the buildings faced the
center square, but the cross-streets were still busy even at this
hour.

“Oh and you think Mayberry is wrapped in
bubble wrap or something? People do occasionally come here from the
outside.”

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