Maya Banks - Sweet Surrender

Gray tensed. Over. The man who had killed Alex, killed Mick and had hurt Faith was in custody. For all practical purposes, his time here was up. He had a while until his official leave was over. A month ago, he would have said he had no reason to stay. But now he had absolutely nothing left for him in Dallas.

“I can’t go back,” he said, the decision settling over him, the first thing that had made him feel good in two days.

Micah nodded. “I hoped you’d say that. Faith’s a good woman. You fit in well here. We could use you on a permanent basis.”

“I’m not so sure Pop will feel that way,” Gray said. “But whether I work for him or do something else, I can’t leave Faith.”

“I hear you. It’ll work out.”

Gray hoped so. He still had to face Faith. He was just thankful she was alive and well, and he had the opportunity to make her see how much he loved her.

Faith woke feeling like she had a mouth full of cotton. She blinked, trying to remember where she was, but it was dark. She was really starting to hate the dark. A whimper worked its way out of her throat as she shifted, trying to get her bearings.

“Faith, are you okay?” Connor asked.

“Light,” she rasped out. “Turn it on, please.”

She heard him fumble around in the dark, and then soft light flooded the room. She winced and blinked, covering her eyes with her hand.

The bed dipped, and when she moved her hand, she saw Connor leaning over her, concern etched on his face. “How are you, honey?”

She licked her lips and pondered that question for a while. “I think I’m okay. Connor…is Gray…is he dead?” she asked fearfully.

“Oh God, no, honey. He’s fine. We sent him home because he took a bullet in the shoulder, and he’s been running around like mad. Left the hospital against medical advice and has been generally raising hell.”

She sagged against the bed in relief. “I saw him go down. That man shot him. I thought he was dead.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she closed her eyes to the horrible memory.

Connor laid a hand over her forehead. “Don’t get yourself worked up, Faith. He’s fine. I’m more worried about you.”

So much had happened. Even without the head injury, her head would be spinning.

“What the hell is the light doing on?” Pop demanded from the doorway.

She looked up to see him holding two cups of coffee. He looked tired and haggard. Worry had carved deep lines on his face, and she felt terrible that she had been the cause of it.

It hit her like a ton of bricks. Everything that had happened had been because of her. She closed her eyes, and in that moment wished she could just go to sleep and wake up somewhere else.

Pop’s rough hand curled around hers. She opened tear-filled eyes to see him standing by the bed.

“You scared ten years off me, girl,” he said gruffly. “And I don’t know what’s currently going through that pretty head of yours, but I assure you I won’t like or agree with it.”

“Everything’s such a mess,” she whispered. “I just want to go home.”

“And you will,” Pop said gently as he rubbed her hand. “The doctor said if you’re doing okay that you can go home today. I reckon he’ll be around to see you in a bit.”

“Can I get you anything?” Connor spoke up.

“Water,” she croaked.

He hurried to pour her a cup of water and then held it to her lips so she could sip at it.

“Gray was here to see you last night, but I made him go home,” Pop said. “That boy was hurting pretty bad. He should still be in the hospital.”

Faith closed her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about him right now.”

“Faith, honey…”

“Please,” she whispered.

“Pop, let it alone,” Connor said firmly. “She needs to rest and get better.”

Pop sighed and nodded.

A knock sounded at the door. When no one immediately came in, Pop frowned and walked to the door. He returned a moment later, a peculiar expression on his face.

“Who was it?” she asked.

He cleared his throat. “It’s your mother, Faith. She’s here to see you. She asked if you would mind her coming in for a minute.”

Her heart seized, and dread filled her chest.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” Pop said soothingly.

Tears filled her eyes again then slid down both cheeks. A sob caught in her throat. How bad was it when the mere mention of her mother reduced her to tears?

Connor picked up her hand and squeezed. “Don’t let her upset you, Faith. If you want her to go away, I’ll make it happen. You don’t have to see her if you don’t want.”

“Let her come in,” she said tiredly.

Connor squeezed her hand again. “I’ll be right here, honey.”

Pop walked back to the door and opened it. A few seconds later, Celia Martin walked hesitantly in. She paused several feet from the bed before finally approaching.

For the first time, Faith got a good look at the mother she hadn’t seen in three years. Time hadn’t been good to her. She looked tired, worn, old. Not at all the vibrant young woman Faith remembered from her childhood. She had the regrets of a lifetime reflected in her dull eyes.

Faith waited, not knowing what to say. Thank you? For rescuing her from a situation Celia was responsible for? She swallowed against the rising anger and clenched her jaw until her teeth ached.

Connor stroked his fingers repeatedly over her hands, and she curled her fingers around his, holding on for dear life.

Celia looked up at Pop and Connor first. “I’ll always be grateful to you for all you’ve done for Faith. I failed her. I’m just glad she had you to turn to.”

Faith bit her lip to keep from crying more.

Celia moved closer to Faith and looked as though she too was battling to keep from crying. “I messed up, baby. But then that’s nothing new. I just wanted to come by and tell you how sorry I am. And to thank you for what you said to the police. They aren’t going to press charges against me as long as I testify against Eric.”

“I’m glad,” Faith whispered.

“I hoped…I hoped maybe we could get together sometime. Maybe when you’re better.”

Faith tensed, and again, Connor stroked his thumb over her hand in an effort to calm her.

“I’m s-sorry. I just can’t do this right now,” Faith said. The knot grew so big in her throat that it was hard to breathe around. More tears slipped down her cheeks, and she damned them. “I need you to go away.” It was hard to keep the hurt from her voice. Her utter sense of betrayal. At the moment, she felt let down by everyone she’d ever loved.

She shut her eyes and turned her face into the pillow as the sobs mounted in her throat.

“That’s enough,” Pop said tersely. “She’s had enough.”

“Of course. I’m sorry,” Celia said. “I’ll go now.”

“Shhh, honey, don’t cry,” Connor said as he tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’ll only make your head hurt worse.”

“I want to go home,” she said in a muffled voice.

“I’ll talk to the doctor and see what he says,” Pop said soothingly.

As he walked away, she only cried harder. Thank God they weren’t noisy, gulping sobs, because it would have split her head right open. Instead silent streams of tears ran down her cheeks. Faster and faster. Like a dam breaking.

Connor eased onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. He didn’t say anything, just held her while she cried and occasionally dropped a kiss on top of her head.

A few minutes later, Pop walked in, and close on his heels came the doctor. The doctor frowned when he got a good look at her.

“Your father tells me you’re ready to be discharged, but I hesitate to send you home when you’re visibly upset. Are you in any pain?”

She shook her head, nearly wincing with the effort. “I just want to go home,” she whispered.

“She’ll go home with us,” Pop interjected. “And straight to bed. She won’t so much as lift a finger. You have my personal guarantee.”

“Well her CT scans all came back normal, and other than that bump on her noggin, her other injuries are negligible. I’ll consent to discharging her, but if her condition worsens, if she feels nauseated or has vomiting or her level of consciousness decreases, I want her back here ASAP.”

Pop nodded. “We’ll watch her. You have my word.”

“All right then. I’ll give the nurse her discharge orders. Someone should be down in a little bit to send her home.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Pop said.

After the doctor left, Pop walked to her side and patted her arm. “We’ll get you home and taken care of. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

She nodded, but a heavy feeling descended on her chest. She’d tried really hard not to focus on Gray, but now that the issue of her mother had been dealt with, he was all that was left. As cowardly as it sounded, she just didn’t have the strength to face him right now.

Gray awoke with a start. Sunshine blasted through the window, hitting him square in the eyes. Which told him he’d slept entirely too damn late.

He rolled over, and his body screamed in protest. When he hit his wounded shoulder, his breath left him in a staggered gasp.

Ignoring the protests of his body, he shoved himself out of bed and stumbled over to retrieve the watch he’d taken off the night before. Ten-fucking-thirty.

He left the room with a bang and nearly tripped over his shoes in the hallway. Bending, and nearly passing out with the effort, he scooped up his shoes and walked into the living room.

“So the dead has awakened,” Micah said from where he was slouched on the sofa.

“You should have damn well woke me up hours ago,” Gray snarled.

Micah lifted a brow. “You needed the sleep, and Faith wasn’t going anywhere.”

“Except I need to see her,” Gray bit out. “I have a lot of explaining to do.”

Micah shrugged. “As soon as you get your shoes on, we’ll go.”

Gray sat down and yanked his shoes on. Then he shoved himself upright again and looked expectantly at Micah.

“Okay, okay, man, I’m coming,” Micah said as he got up from the couch. “You ought to have someone look at that shoulder while we’re at the hospital. Make sure your arm isn’t going to rot off or something.”

Gray glared at him. “I’m taking the antibiotics. It’ll be fine.”

They walked out of the apartment and climbed into Micah’s truck.

“Have you heard from Pop this morning?” Gray asked as they drove off. “Do you know how she’s doing?”

“Nope. Nothing yet. She’s probably still sleeping.”

Gray sighed impatiently. Not seeing her, touching her, holding her was driving him nuts. He should have been there with her. Soothed her hurts. Comforted her when she was scared. It tore his damn guts out that some cop had found her out on the streets, scared half out of her mind and running for her life.

“Quit beating yourself up over there,” Micah murmured. “It won’t change anything.”

Gray pressed his lips together and didn’t say anything.

Twenty minutes later, Micah pulled into the hospital parking lot.

“I’ll drop you off out front, and I’ll go park. I’ll meet you in Faith’s room.”

Gray nodded, and when Micah pulled up at the patient loading and unloading point, he pried himself out of the truck, trying to keep the pain at a minimum. He hadn’t taken any painkillers this morning because he wanted to talk to Faith with a clear head.

The automatic doors swooshed open, and Gray walked inside. He stopped short when he saw Faith across the lobby getting out of a wheelchair pushed by a nurse.

Connor stepped to her side, wrapped an arm around her and tucked her against him as they started forward. Gray’s heart raced. Fuck. She was being discharged, and he’d never even been to see her. He’d left her alone the entire goddamn night.

He hurried forward as fast as he was able without taking a nosedive. When he was a few feet away, Faith looked up and saw him. He stopped short when he saw the flood of pain fill her eyes. His chest nearly caved in.

“Faith,” he began.

Her lips trembled and tears filled her beautiful eyes.

He closed the distance between them and reached for her hand. He flinched when she pulled it away and cupped it with her other one.

“Baby, are you okay? God, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I just woke up.”

“It’s okay,” she said in a faltering voice. “Pop and Connor stayed with me.” She looked away, but he saw a tear trail down her cheek.