Degrees of darkness, p.98
Degrees of Darkness, page 98
“What would you know of your mother’s wishes?”
“Enough, Father. You’ve killed too many people, for what? Some injustice you’ve conjured in your head.”
“It was injustice,” Zhao barked.
Steele shook her head. “What The Hell Eaters did was unjust. And you turned into one of them. The very people who tortured you and murdered Mother.”
Remy noticed Logan wasn’t tied up like Anderson. Odd. But his partner was in bad shape, real bad shape, and it worried Remy worse than seeing his father-in-law free.
“America has tainted you,” Zhao sneered. “I should have kept you with me in Vietnam. Protected you from the brainwashing.”
“I never wanted the same things as you. When you gave me a choice for freedom I took it. Your killings stop here. No more. I’m taking you in.”
As Zhao laughed, Remy caught Cody’s attention. Her eyes widened and she quickly averted her gaze back to Zhao.
Now that she knew he was here, Remy flashed two fingers at Steele. Her rapid blink was his signal she received the message. Unfortunately, Zhao noticed.
“What is this?” His head snapped in Remy’s direction. “Betrayal!”
Everything exploded at once. Zhao’s man swung his gun from Anderson’s head toward Remy. Remy double-tapped him in the chest.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Logan bolting from the chair just as Zhao swiveled to aim at Cody. Logan slammed into Zhao’s arm, making the other man lose his balance and stagger away from the chairs. Remy leveled his Ruger as Logan made for his daughter.
Zhao recovered and fired in the same instance that Remy and Steele did. Their bullets riddled Zhao, who dropped his gun and crumpled to the floor.
Remy’s narrowed vision cleared and he lowered his gun. He assessed the scene before him. Zhao and his man were dead, Cody was unharmed and gaping at her father. Steele showed no signs of injury as well. Anderson was still restrained in the chair, but appeared to have missed the flying bullets. Remy mentally assessed his own body and found himself fit.
Thank God. They’d made it out of this alive.
• • •
The echoes of the gunshots faded from Cody’s head. Everything had erupted quickly in front of her the second she spotted Remy. Her brain was playing catchup, registering that Zhao and his men were dead, and she was safe. She relaxed her arms and let her gun hand fall to her side. It was over. Those who mattered were alive.
As the tension leached from her body, Cody noticed Dad standing in front of her. He had his arms crossed over his bare chest and was staring at her with an odd smile.
Movement behind him caught her eye. Remy was lowering his gun, his head swiveling back and forth as he continued to check for any potential threats.
When she returned her attention to her father, Cody’s heart seized at the trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.
“Daddy?”
His hands came away from his chest in a bloody mess. He mouthed: “I’m sorry,” then crumpled to the floor.
Cody screamed. Throwing the gun aside, she scrambled to her father’s side, her screams turning into choking sobs.
“Daddy, no!” She pressed her hands to the wound in hopes of staunching the flow of blood. “Stay with me.”
He coughed, and bloody spittle flew from his mouth and trickled down his chin.
“God, no. You can’t die.” Cody pounded his chest with her fist. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
He lifted a shaking hand and managed to grasp her fists. “It’s … okay, kiddo.”
“No, it’s not. You can’t leave me.”
A trembling smile appeared on his lips. He wheezed. “You’ll be … fine. It’s time … for me … to go home.”
“No,” she keened. “I need you.”
“No, you don’t.” He swallowed. “You have Remy.”
She brought his stained hand to her lips, kissing it. “Daddy, there’s too much left.”
His eyes closed, then slowly opened. “I love you.” His breath left in a gasp.
“Daddy?” Cody shook him. “Daddy, no! Stay with me. Daddy!” She beat against his chest, willing him back to life, screeching his name. Unable to get a response, she fell across him and bawled. “Don’t leave me.”
Clutching him, she buried her face against his still neck, trying to draw in the last scents of him, begging him to come back to her. Gentle hands on her shoulders tried to pull her up. She struggled against them.
“No, leave me alone.”
“Chère.” Remy tugged her free of her father’s body.
“Let me go. Let me go.” She tried to break his hold on her but didn’t have the strength.
Somehow Remy managed to get her turned around and hugged her close. She sobbed and screamed into his chest as he rocked her, whispering to her in French.
Death had ripped away her last living parent. And that thought made the grief rip a new hole through her heart.
She was an orphan.
• • •
Remy held Cody close as she grieved for her father. Her entire body shook with the sobs. And he felt like joining her.
He may have had a difficult time accepting Cody’s tendency to seek her father’s advice above his own, but Remy had come to regard Logan as another father. And now he was gone. Their time together had been short, but their common interest cemented a connection Remy hadn’t expected. Now, he’d never have that. Squeezing his eyes shut, he bowed his head and pressed his mouth to the top of Cody’s head.
She was the last of her family. And she’d need him now more than ever.
Gradually his wife’s grief tapered down, until she was sucking breaths and sagging in his arms.
A tap on his shoulder made him lift his head. Steele’s worried face came into view.
“LeBeau, Anderson isn’t good.”
He looked at his partner, laid out on the floor inches from him, and panic seized him at the pallor taking over Anderson’s face. Adjusting Cody in his arms, Remy shifted onto his knees, then helped her stand.
“Back—”
“On its way. I called them before I came inside. EMTs are on their way, too.” Steele grimaced as she glanced at her father. Her features schooled once more, she nodded at Cody. “She’ll need checked over, too.”
“LeBeau,” Anderson rasped.
He looked at his partner. Anderson had raised his arm and pointed up the stairs.
“McCord.”
Anger burned through his grief at the mention of the man’s name. Remy’s attention jerked to the upper floor.
“Who?” Steele asked.
“A man we pegged for a suspect. He raped my wife.”
Cody shuddered violently then sank. Cursing, Remy bent down and hauled her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest. Fear for his wife took over.
“I’ll check it out.” Steele moved to the stairs, stepping over the dead men at the base.
Sirens pierced the silence. Remy tossed a prayer heavenward that they move quickly. He peered down at his unconscious wife and kissed her cheek.
It was over, but the price came too high. Could she survive it?
Mon Dieu, she must. For him. Because he wouldn’t make it if she slipped away from him forever.
Chapter Thirty-one
Pacing the length of the hall outside the private ER room, Remy fidgeted with his badge and empty holster. Inside, Cody was being examined by a doctor, while in another part of the hospital Anderson was in the operating room. Remy was torn between checking on his partner, staying near his wife, and calling Steele to get information on what was happening at the crime scene.
She’d stayed behind to take care of the details and keep the captain from blowing a gasket. Before Remy left with the EMTs, Steele had promised to look after Logan’s remains. Through the entire ordeal, not once had she shed a tear for ending her father’s life.
Remy stopped pacing and rubbed his face. From head to toe, he ached with grief and worry. When Steele revealed that Austin McCord was dead, Remy had sighed in relief. But what kind of damage had her actions done to Cody’s mind? She had killed again, and this wasn’t like it had been in New Orleans, a quick shot in self-defense. This time she’d suffered horribly at the hands of her captors.
This whole ordeal was another setup for her post-traumatic stress to come back full-bore. And it could weaken her battle to remain sober. He prayed that her continued time in counseling would prevent a relapse.
Wiping at the moisture leaking from his eyes, Remy sniffed. Damn it, he needed to get his emotions under control. She would need his strength to help her get through this. He couldn’t let her see him weeping like a child.
The door to Cody’s room opened, making him turn. The doctor attending to her emerged and pulled the door shut behind him. He beckoned Remy to join him.
“Detective, your wife will be fine after she’s had plenty of time to rest to heal and she eats. I’ve got her on an IV to get her hydrated.”
Remy sagged in relief. “She wasn’t—?”
“No,” the doctor answered. “From what she told me, she fought him off before anything happened. But, there is something you need to know, and it should come from her.”
Remy frowned. “Is it bad?”
The doctor gave him a tight smile. “Just talk to your wife.” He opened the door and gestured for Remy to enter.
Doing the man’s bidding, Remy entered, pulling up short when he saw Cody in a hospital gown propped up in the bed, staring at the opposite wall. The bold, purple bruises and dark red cuts stood out against the white sheets.
Mon Dieu! She looked like she’d gone through a war.
At the click of the door, she rolled her head in his direction. A large purple bruise covered her right eye. Remy’s blood simmered. Had she not already killed McCord, he would have gladly done it.
“Remy,” she croaked.
That single plea shattered him. He crossed the floor in a few long strides and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her into his arms.
“It’ll be okay, ma ’tite fille.”
“I know,” she said.
Pulling back, he looked at her. He tucked her wild hair behind her ears and gingerly caressed her cheek. “He’s in good hands.”
She picked up on his meaning and nodded as she released a shuddering sigh. Exhaustion weighed heavily on her features. Cody reclined against the pillows.
Remy tucked her hand between his, relishing the steady throb of her pulse under his fingers. So close. So damn close to losing her as he had Marie.
“Doc said you’d recover fine.” Except he left out the damage inflicted on Cody’s psyche, but she’d seek professional help as she had in the past. “There was something he said you needed to tell me.”
Her hand twitched then relaxed. She slowly ran her tongue over her cracked lips. “I wanted to be the one to tell you. Now that I’m certain.”
Dread mixed with a potent concoction of panic inside Remy. Why didn’t she just come out with it?
“Remy, I’m pregnant.”
Her statement hung in the air between them. When it finally penetrated his head, he stiffened and then bolted off the bed. “What?”
Cody’s face crumpled. “We’re having a baby.”
Uncertain what to do with his hands, Remy let them hang suspended in front of him as he flexed and unflexed his fingers. She was pregnant. She was kidnapped and pregnant. And came close to being raped and murdered.
“Remy?”
He plowed his fingers through his hair. “When … When did you …?”
She pressed a hand to her mouth. Behind it, he could see her tearing up. What the hell was he doing? He should be overjoyed, not making her suffer. Abandoning his frustrations, he returned to her side and gathered her back into his arms.
“I’m sorry. I’m not mad. Mon Dieu, Cody, I love you too much to be mad.”
“I was going to tell you. But they ...” She wept.
In the span of a night, she’d lost her father and gained a child. And he didn’t know what to tell her.
“Were you afraid to tell me?” he asked. “Because of what happened to Marie?”
“Yes.”
History almost repeated itself for him, but this time he’d intervened. Non. This had been all Cody. She was a survivor, beyond anything he could have imagined.
A knock on the door pulled him away from her. It opened and an ER nurse poked her head inside.
“Detective, you asked to be alerted about your partner’s condition.”
He stood. “Yes, how is he?”
The nurse smiled. “He’ll be fine. His knee was shattered and they’re still trying to repair it.”
Cody gasped.
“Will it affect him in any way?” Remy asked.
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Mr. Anderson’s family for anything more after the doctor briefs them.”
“Thank you.”
Once the nurse left, Remy resumed his spot next to Cody, this time lying on the bed with her and holding her close. She snuggled against him as if she was burrowing away from the pain and agony and drawing strength from him.
“Heath shouldn’t have had to suffer like that,” she said.
Remy stroked her back. “No one should’ve, chère.”
They lay there, listening to the noise going on outside the room. Remy absorbed the feel of his wife in his arms, and let the reality soak in that he was finally going to be a father.
“Remy, I want to go home.”
He kissed her forehead. “We will, chère, soon. Very soon.”
• • •
After being released from the hospital the next afternoon, Cody stood on the cabin’s front stoop. She pressed her hand into the door and pushed. It swung open on quiet hinges. Daddy’s scent, leather and musk, greeted her. Hot tears pooled in her eyes. Swallowing against the pain, she took a step forward. Her boot thunked against the wood floor, echoing through the cabin, reminding her of its emptiness. The missing link that had made this place feel like a home.
She hugged herself and stayed rooted in the doorway, letting her gaze rove over the interior. Everything was as he’d left it the day he died, neat and orderly. The sole thing out of place was the used coffee mug sitting next to the sink. He’d never use again. A sob raked her as she remembered the years of mornings she’d spent with him having their first cup of Arbuckles. It was over.
He was gone, forever.
Gradually, her arms slipped to her sides. Pushing past her grief, she entered the cabin and tiptoed to the bedroom. There she found the bed made up with the precision of an old army sergeant, smoothed and sharply tucked in. No sign of his dirty clothing or muddy boots. Everything in order, but his presence was still here and still strong.
The pictures on the dresser drew her eye. Cody picked up the frame of her and her parents when she was a teenager. Those three looked so happy, unscathed by tragedy. She bit her lip to stop her trembling chin and set the picture down.
Turning from her daddy’s bedroom, she returned to the living area and sank into his rocker/recliner. She drew her legs up under her battered body and sat there rocking, while she cried until she fell asleep.
A gentle hand rested on her cheek with a whispered, “Cody, wake up.”
She peeled her swollen eyes open.
Remy crouched in front of the chair, grasping her hands and holding them on her lap. His thumbs lightly stroked the backs of her bruised knuckles. They stayed like that, he looking at her, and she back at him, while he tried to soothe her hurt.
He had taken a personal leave from the DPD to be with her. He wouldn’t be going back to work until she was ready, so he said. But Cody didn’t think she’d ever be ready.
“Remy, I don’t think I can go back to the way it was.”
He lifted a hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of it. “It can never go back, cher.”
With a shake of her head, she drew her hands from his and tucked them under her arms. “That’s not what I meant.”
Remy frowned. “What did you mean?”
Turning her head away, she stared at the wall and gnawed on her lip. She had worked it over and over again in her head, but coming out and saying it was next to impossible. She didn’t want to fight. Not now, not ever. But she didn’t think she could handle him going back to work as a detective. Not after losing Daddy.
He gently grasped her chin and slowly turned her head until they met eye to eye. “Cody, what are you talking about?”
She reached up and took his hand in hers and pulled it down into her lap. She riveted her attention to his hand, running her thumb over his wedding band. Finally, the courage to say what she needed broke through the dam.
“I don’t think I can handle you going back to work as a detective.”
If he was shocked by her statement, he hid it well. Closing his eyes, he bowed his head. A few deep breaths later, he lifted his head. He reached out and brushed back her wild curls, caressing her cheek. “Why is it important to you that I don’t?”
His question rattled her. She’d expected him to be upset, to demand a reason for her irrational wants, and she had excuses for every rebuttal he could have brought up. But not this.
Taking her hands once more, he stood, pulling her onto her feet, and then wrapped her in an embrace that broke her heart. She’d wanted him mad at her so she had a reason to forget her grief for a little while. Burying her face into his chest, she clung to him.
“Is it because of the baby?” His question rumbled against her ear.
“No,” she said into his chest and then pulled away. “Maybe.” She sniffed and wiped away her tears. “Every time you get a call, you run off. You forget important dates and events for us, or have to postpone them. I barely see you anymore. It’s like the job always comes first and I get the leftovers. I don’t like being dead last in this race, Remy. That’s not what I was raised to believe should happen in a marriage. And with the baby … I can’t raise our child alone. Not like this. I’ve lost too much, and I can’t lose you, too. Whether it’s by death or a job.”
