Midwest Fighter (Kendall Family Book 2) (21 page)

* * *

L
ater I return
from washing the blood off my hands in the men’s room to find Evelyn quietly snoring in Charlie’s lap and Sofia resting on Nolan’s shoulder. The rest of the small waiting room is empty. I don’t have a chance to sit before a nurse comes over. She’s young and pretty, probably just out of nursing school by a year or two.

“Are you James?” she asks. When I nod, her lips bend with a sincere smile. “They’ve moved your fiancée to ICU.”

“Can I see her now?” I ask, surprised by the sound of my voice cracking.

“I’m sorry, but visiting hours are over. You can see her first thing in the morning. In the meantime, go home and get some rest. Your fiancée has a long road ahead of her.” Then she spins around to leave.

A second later I’m hot on her trail down the hallway, unwilling to accept her answer.

“Where are you going?” Charlie calls after me. As a nurse’s station comes into view, he hurries to my side. “You heard what she said. They’re not going to let you bend their rules.”

“I’d like to see them stop me.”

He hangs back, grumbling to himself when I approach the nurse as she’s stepping behind the pod. When I clear my throat, her long, dark lashes flutter. “Did you need something?”

“I
need
to
see
her,” I grumble, running a hand over my head. Jesus, even my hair hurts. It feels like a week has passed since we were at my sister’s beach house and everything was okay. My bones ache worse than than after a fight from carrying so much stress. “I know you said it’s past visiting hours, but—”

Her head tilts and her lips curl with a smile that feels too condescending. “I’m sorry. Hospital policy—”

“I don’t give a
shit
about your
fucking
policy!” I snap. “I
have to
see her! Now!”

She holds her palms up and glances over her shoulder, probably looking for someone to back her up against the giant psycho. “Sir, please calm down or I’m going to have to call security.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Charlie butts in, stepping around me. Smiling, he sets both elbows on the desk to give her an eyeful of his inked sleeve, and removes his baseball hat. “He didn’t mean to snap at you,” he adds in a sappy voice. It only takes the woman a second of staring at his face before her mouth drops and she quietly gasps.

Normally I’ll throttle him for openly flirting with another woman, but he’s already working his magic. Batting her eyelashes, her smile grows. It reminds me of the way Ivy used to look at me when I was sparring in Cupp’s shed, only Charlie’s able to work his charm ten times faster. I’d be impressed if he wasn’t married to my sister.

“I’m sure it sucks you were scheduled to work on a holiday,” he continues. “It’s been an all-around shit day for my brother-in-law. The woman he wants to spend the rest of his life with was hit by a car. You can imagine how badly he wants to see her. Can you just look past the policy this one time? Neither of us would tell anyone if you were to bend it.”

The woman glances over her shoulder, licking her lips and twirling a strand of curly hair around her finger. Then she turns back to us and stands, leaning uncomfortably close to Charlie. If she makes it any more obvious how badly she wants him, I’m going to wake Evelyn and fill her in on the situation. “Let me take a picture with you and I’ll let him sneak in there, but he has to be gone when the next shift starts. I can’t lose my job over something like this.”

“Of course not,” Charlie says with another charming smile. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“It’s Veronica,” she answers, giggling. Looking at me, she points to a door no more than thirty feet away. “She’s in there.”

“Want me to come with you?” Charlie asks.

“Go back to your wife,” I say. “I need to do this alone.” I catch Veronica pouting before I head off toward the room.

Stopping to brace myself, I purposely don’t look through the glass windows of Sharlo’s room. I know what I’m about to see could very well be the fucking end of me.

A
small hand
squeezes my shoulder, drawing me from a deep sleep.

“Hey, it’s me,” Evelyn whispers.

Bolting upright from the side of the bed, I wipe my exhausted face with both hands. My little sister stands at my side, her eyes heavy with worry.

I’m still in the chair at Sharlo’s side in the ICU room. Her chest rises and falls with the aid of the ventilator as machines blip and beep with her vitals. Seeing her unconscious, almost dead-like with half her body wrapped in bandages, did some weird shit to my head. Without a smile on her now pale lips or seeing her big blue eyes shining with mischief, it feels like her spirit has vacated, leaving an empty shell behind. I must’ve begged her for an hour to open her eyes and call me a “wanker” for not taking better care of her and our baby. I half expected her to sit up and laugh, confessing this was all some stupid fucking prank.

I must’ve passed out some time in the night while I was stroking the only spot on her arm free of road-rash. My body’s uncomfortably stiff, aching with worry from the day before. Evelyn looks equally exhausted, still wearing her wrinkled 4th of July clothes. At some point she took her long brown hair out of the handkerchief she was wearing and it sticks up around her head in a way that would’ve been comical before shit went down. Her weary eyes appear to see right through me when she speaks.

“The day nurse that checked in this morning wasn’t happy that you were here all night, but Charlie convinced her to let you stay. I think she was scared security wouldn’t be able to remove you anyway. I was surprised to find you still sleeping since they’ve checked in on her a few times in the last couple of hours.”

I clear my throat, still thick with sleep. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven.” The way she stares at Sharlo, face pale and lips quivering, I wonder if this is the first time she’s seen her friend since the accident. She looks ready to faint when she reaches for my hand. “Her dad is here. You should come out and meet him, then give him some time alone with her.”

Pressing my lips together, I rub my sweating hands over my knees. It’s the moment of truth, the meeting I’d do anything to avoid. Looking and smelling like shit, I’m about to stand face-to-face with the first man to have Sharlo’s heart.

“Give me a minute,” I tell Evelyn, nodding.

When she nods back, tears spill from her eyes. “She’s going to get through this, JD. She’s too strong not to.”

“Yeah,” I answer quietly, wishing I felt as confident. With the sound of the door clicking shut behind my sister, I stand and press my lips to Sharlo’s forehead. “I won’t be far, little butterfly. You work on healing so we can start the rest of our life together.”

I try not to let it upset me when she doesn’t even so much as flinch in response. I try to hold my shit together as I shuffle out of the room, feeling like a traitor for turning my back on her when she needs me more than ever. I try like hell to convince myself I’m sweating like I just finished a match because it’s unnaturally hot in this hospital and not because I already know I won’t live up to Teddy Rockford’s standards.

What do I have to offer his daughter? He’ll know I don’t have the means to support the lifestyle he’s given her. He’ll know I’m a fucking failure for letting this happen to his daughter.

A man who could easily be in his late 40s paces beyond the nurse’s pod, rubbing and twisting his hands with his gaze locked on the tiled floor. His slacks and dress shirt are rumpled and there’s a dark suit coat draped over one arm. Based on his thick frame and light brown hair, I wouldn’t have picked him from a crowd as being Sharlo’s dad. Then his head jerks in my direction, and I’m looking into a very familiar pair of ocean-blue eyes, lit with pain and despair.

“James?” he grunts.

I actually consider bolting as he starts my way, jaw clenched and neck corded. Even though he’s fairly tall and looks to be in great shape, I still tower over him in height and width. But it’s not like I’m about to fight him if that’s what he needs to get past this. I deserve whatever retribution he feels a need to deliver in the name of his beautiful baby girl. The moment I’m convinced he’s going to deck me, his arms encircle around me and he claps my back.

“I’m
so sorry,
son!” The words sound choked and filled with sorrow.

With my arms still at my sides, I blink several times, trying to clear the confusion from my mind. Why
the fuck
is he apologizing to me?

“Sir?” I ask.

“Nolan filled me in when I got here,” he explains, stepping back with a hand lingering on my shoulder. With his other hand he swipes at each of his wet eyes. “I know you’re in love with my daughter. I know about my grandbaby.” His eyes flicker up to the ceiling for a moment as he collects his breath. “If I weren’t such a shitty father and had the decency to check in on her every now and then, it wouldn’t have taken a flight across the country while she’s fighting for her life to learn about you.”

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, sir. I was there. I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

His eyebrows draw together. “You were beside her when she was hit?”

“I was inside my sister’s beach house. She told me she was going to get a drink. I should’ve gone looking for her sooner.”

The crease between his eyebrows deepens. “You can’t possibly blame yourself over something like that. If you know my Sharlo the way Nolan claimed, then you know damn well she’s got a spirit that can’t be tamed. If you tried to watch over her twenty-four seven, you’d smother her to death.”

“Still—”

“No,” he says firmly, taking a step closer. “You don’t get to carry the burden for what happened. If you and my daughter are in love, then I don’t need to know you to understand you’d do anything to protect her. She’s a very intelligent young woman and wouldn’t have let you in her life after that insolent bastard Richard unless you were worth it. Nolan told me you’re a good man, and he wouldn’t have any reason to lie.” His eyes fill with tears once again and he stutters on a breath. “What happened to my baby girl because of some incompetent fool who got behind the wheel after drinking is
not
on you, son.
Do you understand me?”

The instinct to protect him kicks in when I mirror his pose and give him a hard stare. “She’s going to pull through this.”

He dips his chin as a tear rolls down his cheek. “I’m going to go in and see her, then you and I can spend time getting to know each other.”

This time when he puts his arms around me, I hug him back. As unexpected as it was for him to defend me, the fact that I seem to have his approval is the one thread of hope I have to hold on to in this never-ending, fucked-up nightmare.

* * *

“
W
e don’t know
how long she’ll be like this,” Evelyn reminds me, crossing her arms under her chest as she stands in the middle of the waiting room. “If you don’t take care of yourself, you won’t be strong enough to stay by her side. You need a good night of sleep and a change of clothes. You’re going to scare people with all that blood on your shirt. And when’s the last time you ate?”

“The cafeteria has food,” I grumble, refusing to budge from my spot on the couch. “I’ll be fine.”

Charlie moves behind her, wrapping her little body in his thick arms. “He’s right, freckles. We can bring him back a change of clothes and some take-out. I wouldn’t leave if I was him either.” He presses a kiss to her temple before saying, “Let’s go. Nolan and your sister are waiting in the car. Everyone’s exhausted.”

Evelyn points a finger my way, eyes narrowed.
“Promise
you’ll call if you need anything.”

“Can’t, phone’s dead,” I answer, lifting one shoulder.

“We’ll bring you back a charger,” Charlie promises with a bob of his head. He steps at my sister’s side and takes her hand, pulling her toward the exit.

“Go get something to eat!” Evelyn calls over her shoulder. “I mean it, JD!”

When her head whips back around, she almost collides with two somber men wearing cheap suits. “Excuse me,” the taller of the two says to her, flashing a stiff smile.

I watch the men continue on to the nurse’s pod, their matching strides filled with purpose. After a minute, a nurse points beyond them to where I sit and the men turn to look at me. When I realize they must be here because of Sharlo, I bolt to my feet and start for them.

“James Kendall?” the taller man asks. The way his dark hair is buzzed down to almost nothing and he carries himself with still, calculated movements, I peg him as someone who served in the military. When I grunt in reply, he extends his hand. “Detective Coulter. This is my partner, Detective Freeman. We’re with the NYPD.”

“Are you here about my daughter?” Teddy asks, emerging from Sharlo’s room. His red eyes are a brutal reminder of how hard it hit me the first time saw her unconscious, hooked to all those machines.

“Are you Theodore Rockford?” Detective Coulter confirms. When Teddy nods, the detective passes him a thoughtful expression. “We were sorry to hear about your daughter. We were assigned to her case when she was being harassed in Brooklyn Heights.”

“She’s not fucking dead,” I snap.

“Of course not,” Detective Freeman replies. In contrast to his partner, he’s older and soft-spoken with gentle eyes.
The good cop.
“He meant to say we were sorry to hear she was in a serious accident.”

“Hold on!” Teddy pleads, holding both hands out. “My daughter was being
harassed?”

A wave of guilt washes over me. It never occurred to me that I should’ve made Sharlo tell her dad what was happening. “I didn’t know about it until recently,” I tell him.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private to have this discussion,” Detective Coulter suggests. He turns to the stern-looking nurse still standing behind the counter. “Is there an empty room we could use?”

She points to a room on the opposite side of the wing from Sharlo’s. “Number two is open for the time being.”

I follow the two men alongside Teddy into the empty room. A wavering uncertainty burrows its way inside my chest as I wonder why the men are here. Could the accident have something to do with the person that kept calling her?

Teddy seems equally anxious, refusing to sit as Detective Coulter suggests. “What do you know about the person responsible for harassing my daughter?” he demands.

“We came here this morning to talk to you about Peter Sandeen,” Detective Coulter tells him. “I understand he worked under you when you were the acting CEO of RH-Tech Industries.”

“Christ!”
Teddy spits, covering his forehead with a hand and lowering to the empty bed. His fingers and thumb methodically rub at his temples. “What did that bastard do now?”

Detective Coulter glances at his partner before saying, “We have evidence in our possession that proves Mr. Sandeen was the one making anonymous phone calls to you daughter. He was also a confirmed passenger on a flight that would’ve brought him to New York around the time someone broke into her apartment.”

“Someone
broke in?”
I ask, flexing my fists. “She told me it was just a broken window!”

Teddy springs to his feet, face as red as a tomato. “Where is he? I’ll kill that son of a bitch!”

“I understand you’re upset, but you might want to be careful what you say in our presence,” Detective Freeman suggests in a calming tone. “Maybe you can find comfort in the fact that we have Mr. Sandeen in our custody. He confessed to following your daughter from Brooklyn Heights to her friend’s beach house and hitting her with a rental while under the influence.”

“Why?” I ask, looking back and forth between Teddy and the detectives. “What the fuck was he trying to prove by hurting Sharlo?”

“He’s angry with me,” Teddy answers, rubbing at the back of his neck. He stares at a blank spot on the wall as he continues. “When I switched companies, he lost his job. He lived beyond his means and couldn’t make the mortgage payments on his house. His wife left him and took their three kids. He called me almost every single day after he was let go, begging me to get him a job with my new company. I told him there was nothing to do. When he tried extorting me for money, I tried to make him understand it wasn’t my decision to let him go, but…
fuck!”

“He’s being held on aggravated driving while intoxicated and attempted manslaughter charges,” Detective Coulter explains. “It’ll be amended to voluntary manslaughter if your daughter doesn’t pull through. He’ll be facing up to a lifetime in prison.”

Teddy glances at me with quivering lips. “He was once my friend. He used to come to our house for dinner, for Christ’s sake! I never thought he’d go to this extreme to get back at me!”

The desire to punch something vibrates down my spine, possessing me to the core. I don’t know whether I’m angry at Teddy for not telling someone about the crazy asshole sooner, angry at the detective for insinuating Sharlo may die, or still angry at myself for going back to Minnesota when all this was happening. It’s most likely a combination of all three. All I know is the hallway sways around me when I hit the ground running.