Holding Out for a Hero (Baytown Heroes #9)

Chapter 9

9

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Heavy knocking on her door reverberated through the tranquility of Bess’s sleep. Disoriented and bleary-eyed, she fumbled for her phone to see it was only eleven p.m., and she realized she must have fallen asleep quickly since she’d gone to bed only an hour earlier.

The banging continued at the outer door, and she considered calling the police, assuming the person outside must be drunk. Tossing the covers back, she marched to the window and open the curtains with a jerk. Peering down, she blinked and rubbed her eyes as her sleep-clouded vision struggled to make sense of Brad standing just outside the door leading up to the apartments.

What the hell? Stomping into her living room, she pressed the intercom button. “You’d better have a fucking good reason you just woke me up!”

“Bess, buzz me up.”

“Brad, I?—”

“Bess, not now. Buzz me up. Something has happened.”

His terse and urgent response cut through her tirade. She gasped, nearly choking. Belinda! The only reason she could imagine Brad showing up and needing to speak to her would be about her sister. Her heart plummeted, and she pressed her fist tightly against the pain. Immediately jabbing the outdoor release button, she heard his heavy footsteps racing up the stairs. She barely had time to disengage the locks and swing her apartment door open before he appeared, filling her doorway. The grave expression on his face caused her heart to clench again.

“What’s happened? What’s going on? Is it Belinda? Did something happen to?—”

He placed his hand on her belly and pushed her gently back into her apartment, his gaze dropping to her shirt and then back to her eyes. She didn’t fight against his maneuver but instead reached up and clutched at his forearm, holding on tightly since her legs felt like jelly.

“Bess,” he spoke softly, leaning down to hold her gaze. “You need to get dressed. Belinda has been hurt and taken to the hospital.”

Her fingers clutched at his arm. “Hurt? Oh God… shit… I…”

His free hand curled around her shoulder as he leaned even closer until they were inches apart. Their eyes were locked on each other, and she drew strength from the way his gaze didn’t waver.

“Bess… breathe.”

His voice exuded calm, and she managed to suck air into her lungs.

“Go get some clothes on. Get your shoes on. Grab your purse. Do that now, and I’m going to get you to her, okay?”

She nodded but asked, “Please. Tell me.”

“She was shot. Someone fired into the wedding crowd during the reception.”

Her mouth dropped open as her brain struggled to process her words. Shot… shot! Her knees threatened to buckle, and his hand landed on her waist. Jolted from the electricity of his touch, she flew into action. Whirling around, she raced into her bedroom, her eyes darting around as though in a stranger’s room and not knowing where anything was. Stop. Think. Oh God!

She flung open her closet and grabbed a pair of jeans. Pulling them up her legs, she hopped on first one foot and then the other. Jerking the first shirt her hands landed on, it snagged on the clothes hanger. Tugging harder, she untangled the material from the offending wire. She pulled it over her head and thrust her arms through while simultaneously jamming her feet into purple sneakers. Racing into the bathroom, she ran a brush through her wild, wavy hair and pulled it into a sloppy bun. Her gaze dropped to her hot-pink-and-purple long-sleeved T-shirt with the words emblazoned across her chest, I bake because punching people is frowned upon.

Not caring what she looked like, she ran into the living room and turned in a circle before grabbing her purse from the kitchen counter where she’d left it. “Fuck! My phone!” She raced back to her nightstand and grabbed her phone where it was charging. Retracing her hurried steps, she looked up at Brad. “Ready.”

“Good girl,” he said as his gaze dropped to her new shirt and then lifted back to her face. He nodded and reached out to guide her from the apartment.

Her hands shook at the lock, but he gently took the keys from her and locked her door. She bounced impatiently, then started down the stairs. “Tell me what happened. How bad is it?”

“I don’t know.”

She nearly tripped as she looked over her shoulder while jogging down the steps. “What?”

He reached out and held her steady. “Bess, stay calm. Falling down the stairs isn’t going to help Belinda. And I’m sorry as fuck, but I don’t know any more than that they’ve taken her to the hospital.”

“Oh God, let’s go!” She burst through the door at the bottom of the staircase and onto the sidewalk. Her heart continued to pound in her chest as her gaze locked onto Brad’s SUV parked next to the curb. Racing toward it, she grabbed the door handle when she reached the passenger side. She recoiled in surprise at the sight of a woman sitting there, glaring back at her.

“Shit…” Brad muttered behind her.

Refusing to dwell on the awkwardness, Bess darted to the back door and flung it open, hoping she wouldn’t be confronted with a harem. Her focus was on getting to Belinda, but thankfully, the back seat was unoccupied. Swiping at the tears that threatened to fall, she met the gaze of the blond bombshell who’d twisted around in her seat. The realization that Brad had attended the wedding with this woman whose death glares were now being fired toward Bess made the fucked-up situation even worse. As Brad slid behind the wheel, she blew out a deep breath and begged, “Please, hurry!”

Brad caught her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Buckle up.”

She did as he requested, focusing on what she’d find when they got to the hospital, and he started driving.

“What’s going on, Brad?” the woman asked, her disdain palpable.

“Dropping you off at your car and then getting to the hospital.”

“You said you had to work, not pick up some woman!”

Bess sank against the seat, shaking her head as she stared out the window. Her world was spinning, and the noise around only made it worse. Blocking out everything but getting to her sister was all that mattered. The car lurched to a halt before they even got out of the parking lot. Bess turned to face the front to find Brad’s frightful expression locked onto the woman.

“Not another word, Angeline,” he growled, each word punctuated with ice.

The woman snapped her mouth closed and crossed her arms over her chest. Bess couldn’t see from the back seat but had captured a glance of the woman’s cleavage on display when she’d first seen her, and it crossed her mind that she wasn’t sure the woman’s boobs would stay covered with that motion.

Resuming the journey, Bess was enveloped in a cocoon of silence. She wanted to ask Brad how Belinda got shot… if anyone else was hurt… did they catch the person. Her thoughts whirled, but the awkward presence of Angeline kept Bess from breaking the uncomfortable quiet.

A few minutes passed before he pulled into a parking lot. Bess looked around, noticing they were at Brad’s apartment building. She dropped her chin to her chest as a rueful snort escaped. So many thoughts moved through her in a flash— embarrassment, disbelief, and anger at being forced to witness one of his “dates” while still feeling the sting from last summer. Does he pay her? Those thoughts and emotions flashed and then quickly passed. Everything was pushed to the side by her fear for Belinda crawling from her gut to her throat. God, please, please let her be okay.

As Brad opened Angeline’s door, Bess’s whispered voice trembled with urgency. “Please hurry.”

“I promise I’ll be right back,” he said, leaning around to look at her.

“Well, excuse me for interrupting your night,” Angeline bitched as she climbed down from his SUV.

“Get in your car.”

Bess turned to see Angeline pout while glaring at Brad before she opened her car door. As Angeline’s ass hit the seat, she turned to say, “You can kiss all this goodbye and stay with your fat friend. You probably weren’t going to be good in bed, any?—”

Her words were cut off as he slammed the car door shut. He hustled back to his SUV, and Angeline pulled out of the parking lot, her hand out the window, giving him the finger.

He twisted around, his cold eyes glittering, but his voice gentled. “Come up here, Bess.”

“Just drive, Brad. I’m fine where I am. Please, just get me there. We’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

He muttered a curse under his breath but started the engine. She stole a glimpse of his profile illuminated by the dashboard lights, noticing the tic in his jaw and the way his fingers tightened around the steering wheel. She tore her gaze away from him with a sigh, silencing the words threatening to erupt. Squeezing her eyes shut, she swallowed past the lump in her throat at the idea of the unknown. He had barely screeched to a stop outside the ER when she threw open the door, leaped from the vehicle, and raced through the entrance. Her gaze landed on Aaron’s anguished-filled face. Hurrying to him, she allowed him to wrap her in his arms.

An hour later, Bess was ensconced on one of the hard chairs in the surgical waiting room. Tension, fear, anger, frustration… her emotions ran the gamut, each vying for dominance. She needed to pee but didn’t want to leave the room in case one of the doctors came for her.

A hand reached over and gripped hers, and she offered a tremulous smile in return. Hayley was a friend, engaged to Sam, Aaron’s partner. Looking over at the other side of the room, she spied Aaron and Sam standing with Brad. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why they weren’t out looking for whoever shot Belinda.

“Almost everybody in the whole sheriff's office is working on this case,” Hayley said, squeezing her hand as though she heard the unasked question.

Bess nodded in silent gratitude, not surprised to see the other woman’s eyes filled with understanding. Hayley’s first husband had been a police officer, killed on duty. She and Sam had been friends for years, and that friendship turned into a deeper love. They planned on getting married in another month with Belinda taking the photographs. Bess could only hope that Hayley and Sam’s wedding wouldn’t be a replay of tonight’s events. Who was crazy enough to fire into a gathering filled with law enforcement? “You were there tonight, weren’t you?”

Hayley nodded.

“Oh God, Hayley, I’m sorry.” Her already aching heart hurt more that Hayley had to endure that trauma and now was sitting here holding Bess’s hand. “You don’t have to sit here?—”

“Shh,” Hayley shushed, squeezing gently. “We’re going to stay until you can get in to see her.”

The room was a revolving door of people coming and going, but Bess didn’t mind. It showed her what she already knew… people cared about her sister. But it also gave evidence to the number of people who supported Aaron, knowing he was in love with Belinda.

The atmosphere in the room shifted when Sheriff Hudson walked in. His gaze found hers, and he offered a chin lift in support before moving to the huddle of detectives. Their voices were low but filled with an intensity she felt from across the room.

Just when she was about to find the ladies’ room, a doctor stepped into the room, his voice piercing through the hushed murmurs, calling for the family of Belinda Crowder. She bolted from her seat. “I’m her sister.” Looking behind her to where Aaron stood, her sister’s blood still on his shirt, she waved him over. “Come on, Aaron. You’re in this, too.” As he approached, his eyes filled with gratitude as he wrapped his hand around hers. It didn’t escape her notice that Sam and Brad moved to stand behind them.

“Ms. Crowder came through surgery just fine.”

“Oh, thank God.” Bess slumped against Aaron, and his arm shifted around her shoulder, offering a steady anchor. She listened as the doctor went through the medical information but focused on the news that she could see her sister as soon as Belinda was moved into a room out of recovery.

Thanking the doctor profusely, she offered a watery smile toward Aaron, then walked back to the seat as Aaron headed over to give the news to the others. It appeared he would be staying while the sheriff and other detectives headed out to continue processing the site. Hayley volunteered to stay, but Bess insisted she go home since she had children being watched by a neighbor.

When she looked across the room, her gaze landed on Brad, and she realized she’d never thanked him for bringing her to the hospital. She might have just been a duty assigned to him, but he’d delivered the news with compassion, giving her some of his strength. And the ride might have been fucked up with Angeline , but Bess was grateful, nonetheless. As she stood, he twisted around and looked directly at her. Their gazes locked, and it was as though they were the only two in the crowded waiting room. The air seemed harder to suck in as time stood still. Suddenly, Aaron touched her arm, and she jolted out of her Brad-induced trance. Still staring his way, she managed to mouth, “ Thank you .” His chin lifted in response, and what appeared to be a sad smile barely curved the edges of his lips. Then he turned and walked out with the others, leaving her and Aaron to head in the opposite direction.

Several hours later, Bess had exchanged the hard, plastic chair in the waiting room for the more comfortable, cushioned chair next to Belinda’s bed. Aaron had spent time with Belinda when she was admitted to a room. With pain meds coursing through her body, Belinda tried to ask about why she was in the hospital. She had no memory of being shot.

Aaron took a call outside, then returned to the room, appearing discomfited. Moving to him, Bess asked softly, “Is everything all right? Is there news about the shooter?”

“No news yet, but I’d like to go to the station to see what’s happening.” Glancing over at Belinda, he hesitated.

“Go on, Aaron. I’m not leaving tonight, so she won’t be alone. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” he agreed, nodding. “Thanks, Bess.” He bent to kiss her cheek, then stepped over to kiss Belinda sweetly before heading out.

Belinda looked at Bess as the pain meds worked their magic. “You need to go home, Sis. I’m fine and will be right here tomorrow. But you can sleep in your own bed, and then?—”

“For the millionth time, Belinda, I’m not leaving. Anyway, I promised Mom and Dad that I’d call them and let them see for themselves that you’re really going to be okay.”

“You told them not to come, right?”

“Yes, after you insisted. But come on, let me get my phone. We’ll keep this short, but I know they’re worried sick.” She’d called their parents as soon as she’d heard that Belinda would be fine. Bess fiddled with the video chat, and their parents answered almost immediately.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” their mom said, her face tight with worry. “We can get a flight out first thing tomorrow?—”

“Mom,” Belinda interrupted, her voice showing her fatigue. “There’s nothing you can do right now for me, but if you stay in Florida, we know Nana Jules and Aunt Gwennie are taken care of. Bess is right here, and Aaron will return to give her a break.”

Belinda cut her eyes toward Bess, and she interpreted the look. “Listen, Mom. Belinda needs to get some sleep. I’m going to stay here the rest of the night, and Aaron will be over later. We have plenty of people here to support us, and Nana Jules and Aunt Gwennie will be all alone if you leave them now. I’ll call you if there’s any change, and we’ll talk to you each day. You can make flight arrangements once you have someone who can watch over them.”

With vows of love and promises to see each other soon, she finally clicked the disconnect button.

Belinda’s body visibly relaxed, and she looked at Bess. “Thank you.”

Bess reached out and wrapped her hand around Belinda’s fingers. “You’re welcome, although your thanks aren’t needed. It’s just what sisters do.”

Belinda appeared to have used the last of her energy for the phone call, and now her eyes fluttered closed. Bess bent over the bed and kissed her forehead, softly whispering, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Belinda replied in a barely heard whisper.

As her sister slept, Bess flopped back down into the cushioned chair next to the bed. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep, but as exhaustion filled every cell in her body, she curled up in a fetal position with her head on the arm of the chair and closed her eyes.