Fracture

33. Levi

CHAPTER 33

LEVI

The doctors manage to keep the cops away from me for two days, insisting I need to recover before they’re allowed to talk to me.

My right eye is fucked.

The doctors do test after test with lights of different colors, and I can’t see any of them, just a dull haze, like a lighthouse through the fog. They keep saying it could still improve. They keep telling me not to lose hope.

I don’t even care about my eye. Because the news coming back from the ICU is that Dylan is improving. There were 6 awful hours last night when his patched-up lung collapsed and he was rushed back to surgery. Stella shivered beside me that whole time, sleeping fitfully while we waited for news.

But he made it. Dylan made it back to us. He held on. They took him back to the ICU and said he was improving rapidly. Stella was allowed to go and sit with him for a while.

I’m still under guard in the hospital room.

And now, the doctors can’t keep the cops away anymore.

“I’m not leaving,” Stella says as the two detectives enter the room. “I’m here as his lawyer.”

Detective Hawkins nods, and pulls up a chair beside my bed. “How are you feeling, Mr Fenton?”

“Like I got shot in the head.”

Hawkins suppresses a smirk and shakes her head. “Glad to see you’re still with us.”

“Thanks.”

“He’s not making a statement right now,” Stella interjects. “You can ask what you want, but I’ve advised my client to say nothing.”

“Understood.” Hawkins casts a glance over her shoulder at her partner, who’s leaning against the window behind her, arms crossed over his chest, then turns back to me. “Now, your lawyer is correct, you don’t have to answer anything today. But I did want to let you know what happened in your family home.”

Here we fucking go.

Hawkins takes a deep breath, clutching her hands in her lap. “It would appear Michael Gray had been planning this attack for some time.”

I stare at her for a beat, before blinking and shaking my head. “He’d… I’m sorry, what ?”

“I know it’s a shock,” Hawkins says, giving me a sad smile. “Your grandfather trusted him, I know he went in to vouch for Gray when he was court-martialed. I’m very sorry for your loss, Mr Fenton.”

“I don’t.. I mean, I’m sorry-” I break off, putting a hand to my head that’s started to throb.

“My client is still recovering,” Stella says, her tone tight and professional. “I’d appreciate you not overloading him right now.”

“I’m very sorry, Miss Langford, I don’t mean to cause any distress.”

“What do you mean he was planning it?” My brain is jumping through hoops trying to figure out what the detective is telling me. The shock at not being cuffed to the bed and being read my rights has thrown me so violently, all I can do is sputter and stare at the detective who’s regarding me with sympathy and understanding.

“We found some very complex documents on Gray’s computer, detailing the blueprints of the house, location pins, extensive files on you and your family.” Hawkins sighs, and raises her hands. “It had been planned for a long time. I can’t give you too many details right now, but I did want you to know that we’ll do everything we can to investigate, and to give you closure over the deaths of your mother and your grandfather.” She leans forward, putting a hand on the bed and smiling at Stella and I in turn. “Anything you need, you let us know. You have my number.”

My face no doubt betrays a suitable amount of shock, because the detectives leave the room without another word. I stare at the door, several beats passing before I turn back to look at Stella.

“They think it was him,” I breathe, and she nods, her own eyes wide with shock.

“It was.” She says it quickly, gripping my hand. “It was him. He did it all. He planned it. Right? That’s what the detective said. It was Michael Gray.”

I nod slowly. “Yeah. It was him.”

“You were there having dinner, and you tried to save everyone. But he got you.” Stella nods slowly. “But you don’t have to say anything more. That’s all. Because you don’t remember it all. He shot you, and your memory is foggy. You don’t remember. That’s all you need to say.”

My devious, pretty girl has it all planned out, while my stupid ass is still trying to piece together how this happened. But maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe this is a miracle. Maybe this one time, God was listening.

“Hey, pretty boy.”

Dylan smiles weakly at me, curling his fingers around mine. “Hey, guapo . What took you so long?”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “You were the one who was down here sleeping the whole time, lazy ass.”

“ Pierdol sie ,” he murmurs with a laugh. Fuck you .

“I understood that.” I lean over and brush a kiss against his cheek, still terrified any touch will hurt him. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He turns his head slightly, gazing up at me with his big dark eyes, and winces a little as he looks at the patch over my right eye. “Is it bad?”

I shake my head. “No, they just want to keep it covered for now, hoping I get some vision back.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey now, absolutely not.” I lean my forehead against his, and bite back tears that threaten to spill over at any second. “I was so fucking scared you weren’t going to make it. I’m just… I’m so happy you’re alive.”

“I’m here, guapo . I’m here. God doesn’t fucking want me, lucky you do, huh?” He nudges my cheek with his nose, the plastic tubing hissing as it funnels air into his body. “I’m not going anywhere.” He sighs heavily. “Except maybe prison.”

“They know about Michael Gray,” I say quickly, pulling back and clutching on to his hand, praying he can read my meaning. “They said they found the plans on his computer. He’d been planning it the whole time, killing the family. We just got in the way.”

Dylan blinks slowly, absorbing one word at a time, the monitor beside him beating rhythmically in time with his heart rate.

“He did, huh?”

I nod. “He did.”

“Dirty son of a bitch,” Dylan says, scoffing lightly. “Good thing the cops found all that on his computer.”

“Absolutely.” The way he says it makes me think he knows something I don’t, but now is not the time.

“Hey, papi .” The sweet voice sounds behind me, and Dylan’s eyes light up.

“ Guera ,” he breathes, watching as Stella moves around the bed to his other side. “You’re here.”

“Of course I am.” She sits beside him and reaches out to take his hand. “Doctors gave me the all-clear, I can go home.”

“That’s fantastic!” Dylan smiles widely at her. “And you’re alright, really?”

“Yeah, I am. He did say no vigorous sex for six weeks, but I think we’ll be able to hold off, huh?” She leans over and plants a soft kiss on Dylan’s lips. “Have to wait for you two knuckleheads to get out of here anyway.”

Dylan huffs out a laugh, then winces as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Easy now,” I say, getting to my feet and stroking his forehead. “Does it hurt? Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” He exhales through gritted teeth, and gives me a strained smile. “I promise, I’m fine. It just aches.”

“I’m not surprised, considering they had to reconstruct your whole lung,” Stella says with a shake of her head. She looks over at me, and bites her lip, collapsing down into her chair and putting a hand to her mouth. “I’m sorry, I-” She breaks off and covers her face with her hands, and her shoulders start to shake.

Dylan looks at me with helpless alarm, before I scramble to my feet and round the bed to put my arm around Stella’s shoulders.

“Hey, baby girl, come on, it’s over. It’s over now.”

“I was so scared.” She sobs into her hands. “I was so scared that I was going to lose both of you.” Her hands drop from her face, and she scowls up at me. “Don’t you ever do that again. When you say it’s over, you better fucking mean it.”

My eyes flash to Dylan’s, before I smile down at Stella and cup her jaw gently with my hand. “I mean it, baby girl. It’s all over now.”

I should let this go. I know I should. But the words Gloria scrawled in that fucking ledger won’t let me go. Reading what those men did to Stella, their sick requests… I don’t know if I can let it all be over.

The police have that ledger for now. And I hate myself that I can’t promise Stella with my entire heart and soul that it’s truly over. Because if I ever find a way to get my fucking hands on that list, I don’t think I can let it be over.