Crash & Carnage by Emma Slate

Chapter 20

Boxer fell asleep soonafter his pronouncement. I sat with him for a bit, listening to the sounds of his breathing.

I rose from the bed and went to turn off the light. I crept from the room, shutting the door behind me. As I leaned against the wall, I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to keep the bile in my belly. I breathed deeply a few times, trying to get my feelings under control.

There was a special place in hell for people who hurt the innocent, especially children.

Boxer and the Blue Angels saved women and children. I let out a snort.

Oh, the irony of their club’s name.

I pushed away from the wall and trudged downstairs. The mood was somber, and no one was talking. Three Blue Angels lifted their bottles of booze toward me.

I took Colt’s because he was the closest. Lifting the bottle to my nose, I then gave it a cautionary sniff. It made my eyes water.

“Moonshine,” Colt supplied.

“Should’ve known.” I took a massive drink and it burned on the way down, but then a kernel of warmth spread throughout my belly. I took a seat on the arm of the couch, not sure of my place.

“He told you,” Colt stated knowingly.

I nodded.

“Okay then. You should know we had church and discussed it,” Colt said. “We all voted and agreed we were going to tell you.”

“What’s church?” I asked.

“It’s how we discuss club matters,” Zip explained. “It’s all orderly and shit.”

“Orderly and shit, right.” I took another swallow, trying to scorch the horrors of what might have happened to the women and children from my imagination. “He had South Paw drive him to my place the night you found the kids.”

Reap sucked in a breath, as if he was wishing for another cigarette.

“He didn’t tell me anything,” I hastened to say. “But he was drunk as a skunk, and he looked…haunted. Now I know why.”

“You didn’t press him, did you?” Colt asked. “About why he came to you in that state?”

I shook my head. “No.”

“Why not?” Zip demanded.

“Because getting an answer from him wasn’t the most important thing at that moment. He just needed me to be there for him.”

The room fell silent for a moment and then Reap said, “Wow. You really get him.”

I gave him a watery smile. “I think we get each other. I need some air, and then I’ll hit the sack. Is the room next to Boxer’s free?” There wasn’t enough space to put a mattress on the floor and sleep near him, and I wouldn’t share his bed. I wanted him to have as much room as possible.

“Yeah. It was cleaned after the Idaho boys left,” Zip said.

“Thanks.”

“If you’re not going to keep drinking that moonshine, you mind giving it back?” Colt asked with a smile.

“Like hell I’m giving this back. I earned it,” I said, causing the guys to chuckle. I got up and headed down the hallway to the back door. I pushed open the screen and stepped out into the night.

It was chillier than I expected, and I was just about to head inside to get my jacket, when the door opened. Ramsey strode outside, carrying my coat.

“Thanks,” I said, letting him help me into it.

Blue and green camp chairs surrounded the fire ring where there had been a bonfire. I took a seat and leaned my head back to stare at the starry sky.

By unspoken invitation, Ramsey took the chair next to me.

We drank in silence for a while as the night wrapped around us.

“So, you’re Linden,” he said quietly, his Scottish burr husky and low pitched. “Nice to finally put a face to the name.”

“So, you’re Ramsey. You do more than just manage The Dallas Rex, don’t you?”

He looked at me but said nothing.

“Right,” I muttered. “Mysteries upon mysteries with you guys.” I deduced he had been involved in rescuing the women, otherwise why would he be here?

“I’m impressed,” he said.

I frowned. “With?”

“You. And I’m not easily impressed.”

“Why are you impressed?”

“You didn’t fall apart,” he said.

“You expected me to fall apart?” I glanced at him. “You don’t even know me. We’ve never met.”

He shrugged. “Most people would have fallen apart.”

“I’m a doctor.”

“That’s not what I was referring to.” He paused for a moment. “You were cool and efficient. Even though it was Boxer.”

I thought about his words and nodded slowly. Objectivity had somehow reigned supreme, regardless of my relationship with the patient. “Emotion has no place in the operating room, regardless of who’s on the table,” I said finally.

He smiled slightly.

“What? What’s that smile for?”

“You remind me of someone I’m very fond of.”

“Who?”

“My sister-in-law.”

“Your sister-in-law. The one related to you by marriage or Flynn’s wife?”

Ramsey looked at me sharply.

I shrugged. “I read the article.”

“That fucking article. I haven’t had a moment of peace since. It was supposed to be a fluff publicity piece that would bring attention to The Rex. All it’s done is complicate my life.”

“With beautiful women throwing themselves at you?”

“Something like that.” He sighed. “And I was referring to Barrett Campbell. That’s who you remind me of.”

“Flynn Campbell’s wife.” I nodded. “It seems you and I have some friends in common… Quinn O’Malley?”

“No shite,” he said, a wry grin appearing on his very generous lips. “You’re friends with Quinn?”

I nodded.

“She’s a Boston girl. How do you know her? Are you from Boston too?”

Crap.

I hadn’t been thinking. I’d just let my mouth get carried away by moonshine. “I did my residency at Boston General,” I said. “Our paths…crossed.”

Ramsey’s eyes became somber, and he nodded. “Aye, Quinn. She’s had a time of it.”

“She has,” I admitted. “But she’s happy now. With Sasha.”

He laughed softly. “I still can’t believe you know Quinn. Sometimes, the world feels very small.

“The smallest,” I agreed.

Ramsey took another drink from his bottle. “Did he tell you about what he saw?”

“Tonight, you mean? He told me about the women.”

He paused. “Not the women.”

“Oh,” I said in understanding. “You mean the children.”

“Aye.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “He didn’t give me details, but I know… I know enough.”

The man I was falling for was asleep, recovering from a gunshot because, despite what he had said about himself and the Blue Angels, they were saviors.

Protectors of the innocent.

Protectors of those too weak to defend themselves.

“Were you there?” I asked him. “The night they found the children?”

He nodded, his eyes glassy. With booze or emotion, I wasn’t sure. “There are some horrors you can’t ever unsee. Some horrors are there every time you close your eyes—nightmares that are burned onto your eyelids.” He shuddered. “We were too late for one. I’ll carry that guilt with me for the rest of my life. The others will too.”

I exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. I carried my own guilt and realized that sometimes, there was no absolution for our failures.

But I didn’t want to dwell on my past and the burdens fettered to my soul with iron shackles.

So, I left Ramsey with his own thoughts and went inside. And when I laid my head on a pillow in a clubhouse room, I thought about my future. For the first time in years, I thought there might be an added purpose to my life.

* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night to check on Boxer. His breathing was easy, and I stroked my hand across his forehead. He wasn’t hot to the touch. No fever, which meant most likely no infection. I’d check his wound in the morning, and flush and change bandages as required. As I made my way to the door to leave, he whispered, “Stay.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” I whispered back.

“I was already half awake. Stay,” he said again.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” But even as I said the words, I was stripping out of my jeans that I’d pulled on in case I encountered anyone in the hallway. But the clubhouse was quiet, and everyone was asleep.

I gingerly crawled into bed next to Boxer. I backed up until I hit the wall, wanting to give him as much room as possible.

We lay there in silence, and when his breathing didn’t even out after a few minutes, I asked, “Are you still awake?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you in pain?”

“Some,” he admitted.

“Do you want—”

“No. No painkillers. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“I survived a hangover without aspirin and an appendectomy without morphine. I can handle a little bullet wound without painkillers.”

I closed my eyes and reached out to gently set my hand on his chest, wanting, needing, to feel the rhythm of his breathing.

“I think the ones we couldn’t save are in a better place,” he said, his voice raspy in the dark. “This world is so fucking cruel sometimes.”

“Yeah, that’s the truth.”

“Does it make me a bastard for saying it?”

“No. It doesn’t make you a bastard.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask about what he’d seen.

“I can’t tell you the details, Linden,” he voiced, as if reading my mind. “I’ll never do it, and I don’t want you to ask. Do you understand?”

I squeezed my eyes tight, but it didn’t stop the tears from escaping from beneath my eyelids. I knew what he had seen was so bad he couldn’t bring himself to relive it, and I wouldn’t put him through it again.

“I won’t ask,” I whispered.

After a long moment of silence, he said, “I’m gonna find them, Linden. I’m gonna hunt down the sick fucks that do this type of shit, and I’m gonna put a fucking bullet in their heads.”

I slid my arm underneath his shoulders, trying not to jostle him. But then he rolled into my embrace, and I placed my cheek against his hair and silently wept for the things we couldn’t control, the people we couldn’t save, and the fragility of human life.

* * *

My dreams were messy, shadowed, and full of cobwebs. Talking to Boxer about what he was a part of had split my psyche open, and while I dreamed, my own demons found me.

When I awakened again, I was alone in bed and sunlight streamed through the half-mast blinds. I was sprawled out at a diagonal. No doubt I had pillow creases along my cheek.

I sat up and blinked, trying to get my mind to wake up. It was foggy, mushy, and unlike how I normally woke.

Melancholy weighed heavily on my heart, and not just because of my scattered nightmares. I was more than off kilter; I was raw, like my insides had been raked along coals and I was burning from the inside out.

The door to the bedroom opened, and Boxer ambled in. Aside from the bandage covering his wound, he didn’t look any worse for wear. He had more than a few days of stubble along his jaw, but his eyes were clear, devoid of pain or meds.

I wasn’t sure what to say to him before coffee and a good tooth scrubbing.

His gaze scanned my face and then my body. Despite the heaviness that weighed on me, my skin erupted in tingles with the promise of unleashing myself on him. But he was injured.

I wondered if our bodies should be leading our minds, or if we had it all backward. But what was more authentic than desire?

“Morning,” I said.

“Afternoon, you mean.”

My eyes widened. “It’s the afternoon?”

He nodded.

“But how?” I gasped. “I never sleep this long.”

“Guess you needed it.”

“Guess I did,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Boxer,” I warned.

“Physically, I’m fine, Doc. Mentally… I might be taking your Basket Case title.” His smile was tinged with solemn humor. “I won’t be okay again until I’m deep inside you, and I forget all the shit in the world and just think about us.”

I nodded in understanding. He’d put into words exactly what I needed and how.

“I want that too,” I admitted, my voice raspy with desire.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I blew out a breath of air.

“I’m more than you bargained for, aren’t I?”

“Definitely,” I said with a winsome smile. I reached for my jeans. “I need a hot shower, clean underwear, and a cup of coffee.”

“In that order?” he asked with a smile.

“Not necessarily.”

I padded toward him and gently placed my hands on his chest. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled, hauling me closer, his head dipping.

I sank into him and his touch, needing to feel our connection surge through me. When I was gasping for breath, I pulled away and pressed my cheek to his shirt and closed my eyes.

He moved his hand across my back and then wormed it under the shirt that I’d borrowed from him the previous night. “I got you a clean towel, but you’ll have to make do with Irish Spring and 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner.”

I smiled into him. “That works.”

“As for the clean underwear situation… I suggest none.”

I let out a laugh. “You would suggest that.”

He stared down at me, grinning. “Coffee’s waiting for you when you’re done.” Boxer kissed the end of my nose and then stepped away. “Thanks.”

“For?”

“Sticking around,” he said simply.

He left before I could muster a reply.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere,” I murmured out loud to myself. “Not now.”