Chapter 13

Carter

Burning hot pain tears through my shoulder as I wake to a groggy haze. I rub my eyes and am rewarded with a fresh wave of agony rippling through me.

I hear a low chuckle I recognize before Rissa’s face, and the rest of the clinic comes into view. I blink rapidly as she shines a light in my eyes. “Where’s Brooke?”

Rissa clicks off the light and sits alongside me. “Sleeping.”

My momentary panic is calmed when Rissa chuckles again. “Damn, Carter. You really like her, don’t you?”

I frown at her, equal parts grateful that she has patched me up yet again and annoyed that she is poking fun at me.

Rissa points to my arm. “She likes you too. She has a serious needle phobia, but she let me drain two pints to save your sorry ass.”

My grogginess is fast replaced by a rush of emotion I’m not sure I can deal with right now. “But she’s okay? She took a punch to the gut.”

Rissa nods. “She’s a little beat up, but she’s doing fine considering she’s a witness to a murder.”

I exhale slowly and try to sit only to have Rissa tut-tut as I struggle to pull myself up.

“I know you want to see her, but she needs to rest. And you aren’t fit to go anywhere,” she says.

I scowl at her. “I can’t stay here. The cops are everywhere.”

Rissa shrugs. “You basically left a trail of blood right to my door. She can leave, you…not so much.”

I cock my head at her, understanding dawning in an unwanted reminder. “Because there’s nothing to tie her to Jonas’ death?”

Rissa gently pats my shoulder. “Not just a pretty face then.”

I grunt at her ill-timed attempt at humor. “You heard from Eloise?”

Rissa nods as she checks the dressing on my shoulder. “Actually, no. I heard from the cops. Eloise doesn’t have a record, but she has enough bruises and ER visits to corroborate her story about shooting Jonas in self-defense.”

My eyebrows rise at how quickly Eloise has concocted a story. “You’re the one working with the cops?”

She shrugs. “Yeah. You could say that.”

“What about Nate? And Kurt?”

Rissa sits back and screws up her face. “Kurt’s the new enforcer, but who’s Nate?”

I frown at her, head starting to pound as I try to figure out who knows who. “The little weasel who was working for the cops?”

Rissa pulls a face. “You’ve lost me.”

I sit incredulous as I finally understand how Brooke managed to get herself conned by Nate all those times. “He’s Brooke’s ex. He’s a slippery sonofabitch. I thought he was working with the cops,” I mutter.

Rissa squints at me. “Huh. If he was, it’s the first I’ve heard about it. But the phone call I got was a courtesy one regarding Ellie, not exactly a breakdown of everything.”

I nod my head wearily. It doesn’t matter that we fell for it. He probably thought I wouldn’t dare touch him if there was a chance it was being recorded.

But ultimately, Jonas was too angry at Eloise, and Kurt was too ready to let his fists do his thinking.

“Which room did you put Brooke in?” I ask.

Rissa scowls at me. “Oh, so you’re ignoring me? Big surprise. She’s literally just gone to sleep Carter. Leave her alone. She’s fine, and no one is going to break the door down tonight. Trust me.”

She folds her arms across her breasts and manages to look more intimidating than Kurt ever could.

I chuckle because I do trust her. She and Eloise are pretty much the only people I can trust in this neighborhood. “Okay. I’ll leave her be. But I want to talk to her as soon as she’s awake.”

Rissa rolls her eyes. “I’ll bring her in here when she’s had some sleep. Speaking of, I’m zonked.”

She yawns to emphasize her point and pauses in the doorway to flick the light switch off. “You know if Brooke hadn’t been your perfect blood match, you’d be dead.”

Before I can reply she breezes out the door. I lie back on my pillows, a stupid smile slowly creeping across my face as I mutter the words. “My perfect match.”

***

Brooke

My eyelids flutter open as grey light spills through the gap in the curtains. My entire body aches as I stretch, yawning as I try to orientate myself.

I pull myself to sitting and wince as my head spins and pain shoots through my head.

My arm is tender from where the needle punctured my skin, but it’s my stomach that hurts the most.

Gritting my teeth, I reach for the water Rissa placed beside me and guzzle half the bottle.

I sink back against the pillows and study the room I slept in. It’s sparsely decorated, little more than the single bed I’m lying on, a couple chairs, a wilted pot plant, and a cabinet beside the bed.

I release a sigh and get out of bed, yawning as I stumble barefoot towards the bathroom down the hall.

I groan at the ghostly and bruised reflection in the mirror and run my fingers through my tangled hair.

Even after washing them repeatedly last night, blood is caked in my fingernails.

With a shudder, I run the hot water, scrubbing furiously at my hands until every last trace of Carter’s blood is gone.

When I get back to my room, ready to put my boots back on, a pale and sweating Carter is slumped in the chair.

Relief swims through my body as he manages a weak smile. “Rissa’s going to kill me, but I needed to see you.”

I’m so happy he’s okay, I burst into noisy tears and near throw myself at him. I sit on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck. “Oh, thank God.”

His arm goes around me, but his voice is strained. “Brooke, I was going to talk to you about a couple things. But I don’t have time. You need to leave.”

I sniff and pull back so I can look at his washed out and blood-splattered face. He looks so serious; I carefully climb off him so I can sit on my bed instead. “I know. I just…I wish.”

I can’t finish my thought. I don’t know what I wish. I wish Nate hadn’t involved me. I wish I’d never met Jonas. I wish I hadn’t seen this side of Carter.

I know he’s still trying to protect me, but it still stings when he lets out a sigh and rubs his face. “I don’t know where your keys are…Eloise might have your purse.”

My keys. He's talking about my keys?

I swallow, eyes filling as I just hold his gaze. Losing my purse and its contents don’t seem as important as nearly losing him. I open my mouth to tell him so but the words seem lodged in my throat.

He looks about ready to say something but just releases a long sigh as faint footsteps clip down the hallway towards us.

Any hope I had of talking to him about what will happen next, is lost when Rissa walks into the room.

She looks exhausted as she growls in Carter’s direction. “Did you stay awake all night waiting for her to wake up?”

My eyes widen as the tiniest flushes of heat appear on Carter’s cheeks. His shrugs and doesn’t seem to be able to look me in the eye. “I couldn’t sleep. I could hear the cops outside.”

Rissa snorts and looks at me. “I just heard from Eloise. They’re letting her come home to collect a few things. She hid your purse in the safe. She can get it to you, but you’ll need to go as soon as it’s here.”

A knot grows in the pit of my stomach as I nod. “That’s great.”

Rissa’s eyes shift to Carter. “Heads up. Cops will be here in an hour.”

Carter seems to pale even further as Rissa leaves the room. With time running out, I take my last chance to say the one thing I wanted to last night but couldn’t. “Thank you for trying to help me, Carter.”

His breathing seems to increase as a frown appears on his face. “I didn’t do enough.”

I shake my head. “You did more than enough.”

Any further discussion is cut off by the buzzer signaling my purse has arrived.

Carter locks eyes with me and a faint smile twitches at his pale lips. “Thank you for saving my life.”

I slowly rise from my bed and take the few steps so I’m standing right in front of him.

There are so many other things I want to say. None of which will make this any easier. Instead, I press my lips to his, tasting the salt of his sweat as I kiss him goodbye.

***

Carter

My gut is twisted into painful knots that won’t subside. I haven’t moved in the thirty minutes since Brooke walked out.

I should be preparing for the questions the cops will ask, but all I can think of is whether Brooke made it to her car safely.

With the number of cops in the area, it’s unlikely anyone would bother her, but not being with her, not knowing is as painful as taking another bullet.

I’m lost in my thoughts, vaguely aware that the cops are buzzing Rissa’s door. I brace myself, gripping the arms of the chair as I wait for cops to storm up the stairs, guns drawn, ready to haul me away.

But I don’t hear anything but feminine voices. I’m halfway prepared for Eloise to show when Rissa enters the room with an inky skinned woman dressed in a suit.

She’s slim, elegant and every inch the professional as she stands beside the bed Brooke slept in. “Carter Quinn? I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

I clear my throat and answer as honestly as I can, keeping Brooke out of it and concentrating on the facts they’ll already have pieced together. Rissa stays in the room, ever watchful and sending sly looks at the cops back.

When all my energy is drained away, and I’m starting to slur from fatigue, the cop seems to shift gears.

She taps her pen against her teeth and looks at the wound in my shoulder. “So, you’re just an innocent victim in all of this?”

At the mocking tone to her voice, my skin rises. “I didn’t say that.”

I didn’t have to. The evidence is all pointing to Eloise. As far as the police are concerned, I just happened to be there.

She exhales slowly as though I’m testing her patience. “You must know how this looks? You return to visit your father—”

“He’s not my father,” I snap at her.

Her eyebrows rise as she flips pages back in her notepad out and narrows her eyes as she reads. “Says here, you’re the adopted son of Jonas Quinn. Legally speaking, you are his son.”

I clench my back teeth together to avoid saying anything that might incriminate me. “I’m his son in name only.”

Her jaw works as she keeps eyeballing me. “So, your reputation is undeserved?”

I freeze, my blood running cold as Rissa steps in. “Carter left a year ago. He cut all ties with Jonas and moved away. Jonas pretty much disowned him.”

The cop scratches her chin and turns to look at Rissa. “I’m on thin ice as is it is here already. My boss authorized a stakeout and ended up with a murder investigation. I’m already under enough scrutiny as it is for doing this for you.”

Rissa frowns at her. “It’s a clear enough case. Eloise admitted to shooting him. You know she had good reason to, what’s the problem?”

The cop huffs out an exasperated breath. “The problem? The problem is sitting in your clinic after fleeing the crime scene.”

Rissa shrugs and raises her hands. “What was he supposed to do? Wait for the ambulance? In this neighborhood, he’d have bled to death before it got here.”

They stare at each other, neither backing down until the cop mutters a curse under her breath.

She jabs her pen in Rissa’s direction. “I knew this was going to backfire when I agreed to help you get Jonas.”

Rissa doesn’t look even slightly concerned, making me wonder how well they know each other.

Rissa has always kept her private life to herself, and I’m beginning to see why.

“Am I under arrest?” I ask.

The cop stares at me, eyes narrowing as she slowly shakes her head. “I know you’re involved in this, but since the surveillance wasn’t in place, I can’t prove it.”

Surprise makes me ask a question an innocent man wouldn’t. “No surveillance?”

She pushes her notepad back into her pocket, giving me a good look at her gun and badge. “Thanks to red tape, and budget cuts, we were delayed in setting up.”

She aims a pointed look at Rissa then swings her hardened gaze on me. “Don’t go anywhere. I need to know I can reach you.”

I slump back in the chair, frowning at her. I’m not under arrest, but I’m not exactly free to leave either. “I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. Rissa’s holding me prisoner.”

A smile flickers at the cop’s lips. “Then you’re in good hands.”

Thick tension hangs in the air as the cop adjusts her jacket and clears her throat.

If I hadn’t already guessed they were seeing each other; it’s confirmed when Rissa’s tone turns playful. “Thanks for coming to visit me at work, Rachel.”

The cop’s eyes pop before she scowls at me then Rissa. “No first names while I’m working,” she grumbles.

I have to smother a laugh as she steps out of the room with a bemused Rissa.

I can just hear the cop scolding Rissa as they walk away. “You want to do this, fine. But there are such things as professionalism and boundaries, Rissa.”

My smile fades as the sound of them arguing lessens until all I can hear is the sound of car horns outside on the street below, and the steady thud of my heart.

I tilt my head so I can look out the bars on the windows. I squint and try to picture the streets without the litter, without the scrawny kids playing in the gutter, the flimsy buildings and end up picturing Brooke’s house instead.

Jonas owns the entire block. Everything from the clinic to the bar on the corner. He owned the apartment he lived in with Eloise and probably owns a dozen other places I never knew about.

He was supremely confident he owned Eloise and all his ‘girls,’ and he stupidly thought he owned Rissa, and ultimately me.

I should feel something that he’s dead. He did give me a roof and a job, but Eloise is right, nothing was ever given freely, and nothing came without a heavy price.

I’m lost in my thoughts when Rissa pokes her head in the door. “Rachel thinks you’re in the clear. She’s pissed at me, but technically you didn’t do anything wrong and neither did I.”

I try to roll my shoulders back but give up when pain shoots through me. “Jonas never made anything legal with Eloise, did he?” I ask her.

Tessa steps back in the room as she chokes on a laugh. “Marriage? He didn’t trust anyone that much. You know that.”

I nod, thoughts splintering into five different directions as she walks towards the door. “Don’t get used to me waiting on you hand on foot. Soon as Rachel says you can, you’re out the door.”

“You couldn’t pay me to stay in this neighborhood,” I mock growl at her.

“Ha! Bet you’d stay if Brooke was here.”

My smile leaves her snickering at me all the way down the hall.

***

Brooke

Snow is drizzling as I pull into my driveway. I’m so exhausted, so utterly grateful to finally be home; I start to cry as I open my car door.

I plod through the snow, hugging my jacket to myself as I push my bag over my shoulder.

My breath mists as I stand, fumbling for my front door keys as I blink away the tears.

I stumble inside, locking the door behind me, not bothering to take off my jacket or dust the snow off my boots.

I stalk to the stairs and climb them two at a time, a sob locked in my throat as I make my way to the bathroom.

I run the shower until steam fills the room and strip off my clothes. Ugly purple bruises cover my abdomen, and my ribs ache from where Kurt slugged me.

Wincing as the hot water hits my skin, I stand under the water and wrap my arms around me as I stare at the crack on the wall tile.

What am I supposed to do now? Wait for Carter to show up? What if he doesn’t? What if he goes to jail because of me?

When the questions just keep piling up, and my skin is pruning, I shut the water off and wrap myself in a towel.

I swipe the mirror and examine the bruising on my cheek. It’s not as bad as my stomach, but it’ll draw unwanted attention if I go anywhere.

I shrug into my robe and slide my feet into my slippers and make my way back downstairs.

My bag is where I dropped it at the foot of the stairs, so I grab it and look for my long-dead cell phone.

I already know nothing is missing from my bag, so I take my cell into the kitchen and plug it in to see if I’ve missed a bunch of calls.

The kitchen is cold, and I automatically start the fire before remembering the boiler is now functional thanks to the combined efforts of Carter and Andy.

I’m too exhausted to go down to the basement, and it’s too late in the day to bother anyway, so I grab a mug and fill the kettle and place it on the stove.

Since it’ll take eons to boil from cold, I turn my cell on and wait for it to power up. I start to yawn as I peer out the window, watching the snow falling lightly in the darkening sky.

My fingers tap on the table-top, eyes flicking around the kitchen as the silence I thought was bliss a week ago presses uncomfortably in, reminding me of how much I miss Carter being here with me.

I need to do something. Baking would be the preference, but since the stove isn’t anywhere near ready, I should probably think about doing the job that puts food on the table.

With a groan, I get up and wander into the living room where my laptop is sitting on the sofa.

I grab it, tucking it under my arm as I amble back, smothering yawns as I try to recall what project I was working on before Carter arrived.

I open my laptop and sit back down to check my phone as the computer boots up.

There are a dozen missed calls. Several from my mom, one from a friend, one from the bank, and several unknown.

Since the voice mail message is showing, I put my phone on speaker and tap my password into my laptop, multitasking as I wait for the messages to play.

Brooke? This is Andy. I have an opening in the next few days if you want me to fix those window sashes. Give me a shout.

I frown at the phone. There’s no mention of our conversation regarding Carter, and I can’t afford to pay him, the window sashes will have to wait, so I skip to the next from an unknown caller.

Silence then static comes down the line, then a choked voice that makes me feel sick.

It’s Nate. Ah, I, ah, not sure what’s happening with the loan. Yeah, I’ll uh, find out when I can.

A grunt, then a low murmur comes down the line.

In the background, I can hear someone laughing, then the sound of a police radio. I turn the volume up louder, but the phone goes dead.

I’m still staring at the phone when the next message plays. I recognize the deep voice filled with tension instantly and all my hairs stand on end.

Hey, it’s Carter,

Eloise ran into Nate at the police station. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t know you were involved, and he was too beat up to be credible, so you don’t need to worry.

He pauses, giving me time to release my breath and take another.

It’s better if I don’t contact you again. I don’t know whether I’ll be charged with anything.

Sorry I can’t be there to fix up the house for you.

Take care of yourself.

I’m still waiting for more information on what happened to Kurt and whether Eloise is okay when the phone beeps signaling he hung up.

I place my elbows on the table and rest my chin in my hands staring at the logo for an Artisan Bakery I’m in the process of designing.

I don’t need to worry. About Nate. About Jonas. About losing my house. I can still stay here in Rover’s Retreat.

But Carter’s gone. He’s not coming back. Maybe he never intended to?

He’ll have multiple things to take care of including the police. It’s perfectly reasonable that he’d be unable to return to the life he had here.

Or to me.

I stare at the logo, thoughts spinning as I try to ignore the crushing feeling growing in my chest.

Carter isn’t coming back, but I now have no debt hanging over my head. I pull the menu of the bakery up on screen, looking for inspiration, but my hands start to itch with the desire to bake something.

The logo stares at me, mocking me, daring me to do something I never had the courage to.

Maybe I should look at this as an opportunity? Time to examine the choices I’ve made in my life to get me to this point?

I chew my lip and open my browser to look for the café Carter thinks is overpriced.

After a quick look at their menu and taking encouragement from the man I used as a guinea pig, I pick up my cell and tap out the number on screen, ready to dial.

“Take care of yourself too, Carter,” I mutter.