Bounty (Page 170)

He looked to his wife.

“Where’s Jussy?” she asked.

His head shot around to the row of seats behind him.

Ty’s jacket laid there, the bundle of bloody clothes there too.

No Jussy.

He looked to Twyla.

“You see her leave?” he asked sharply.

Twyla’s face shifted, mouth opened, but it was Cindy who answered.

“We both woke up a couple of minutes ago. Didn’t think, Tate, except maybe she had to go to the bathroom or something.”

Jim-Billy was stirring, pushing his ball cap back, Nadine lifting from his side sleepily, Jonas hearing the conversation, pushing up into a hand, and Tate rose from his chair.

He headed to the hall, knowing from the sound of footfalls there was a parade behind him.

He hit the nurse’s station outside the Critical Care Unit.

“Can I help you?” the nurse there asked.

“Jussy—” he bit out, stopped abruptly and started again. “Deke Hightower, a friend of mine, he’s here.”

“I know, sir, he’s still—”

Tate interrupted her. “His woman was sedated when the doctor told us his condition. We’ve been in the waiting room, woke up, she’s not with us. Have you seen her?”

Her expression altered to understanding as she said quietly, “Ms. Lonesome has been informed of his condition and she’s in with him.”

“Dammit,” Tate muttered under his breath.

It was him who should have told her.

It was him Deke would have wanted to tell her.

Fuck.

“Take us to him,” Krys demanded. “Take us all to them.”

The nurse shook her head. “Only one visitor at a time in this unit, sorry.”

Laurie pushed closer to the station. “You need to take us all to him.”

“It’s policy that—”

“He needs his friends around him,” Laurie whispered, a hitch in her voice, and Tate rounded her belly with an arm, pulling her back to him.

“It’s not—” the nurse began.

“Please,” Lauren begged.

The nurse took them all in and Tate was grateful at the same time agonized at what it meant when she slowly nodded her head.

“I’ll need you to be as quiet as you can. I’ll also need you all to wash your hands and put booties on. And I’m sorry, sir, no babies.”

“You all go. I’ll take Breanne,” Cindy said hurriedly, already coming forward, helping Bubba unwrap the swaddling.

The handoff happened. The nurse took them to the sterilization station. They washed their hands and put on booties.

Tate was holding Lauren steady as she put hers on when the nurse murmured, “What’s that?”

But he heard it.

And Tate knew what it was.

He moved swiftly toward the sound, followed by Laurie, Jonas, Krys, Twyla, Jim-Billy, Nadine and Bubba.

He stopped just in the door.

They pressed in behind him.

The nurse got there before him, was deeper in the room, and she opened her mouth to speak.

Tate darted out a hand, curled it on her shoulder and her eyes came to him.

He shook his head and mouthed, “Please.”

She didn’t look like she liked it but she said nothing and turned her eyes to the bed.

Tate did too.

Deke was in it, the bulk of his body, his hair and his eyes the only way Tate knew that it was his brother in that bed. His face was mostly obscured by the apparatus at his mouth, a tube down his throat, more leading to it, more in his arms, the back of the bed slightly elevated. He had no hospital gown, sheet and blanket around his waist, his upper body naked but there wasn’t much you could see since all of it was wrapped in bandages.

Jussy was seated in a chair at his side.

She was leaned into him and she was singing.

He’d never heard the song and would only know what it was and who sang it days later, when Laurie would find it, play it for him, and they would listen to it, his wife weeping in his arms.

The Goo Goo Dolls, “Come to Me.”

Lauren couldn’t watch. Tate knew it when she curled into his front, shoving her face in his chest, and it didn’t take long for the wet of her silent tears to soak his Henley.

But Tate didn’t tear his gaze off Jussy, a woman so in love with her man, in this situation it was so difficult to witness it actually made his eyes hurt, keeping them on her. Listening to her beautiful voice wrapping around words, each one full of love and hope and belief, each one spearing right through his fucking heart in a way it was a wonder the wet of his life blood didn’t mix with the salt of his wife’s tears.

He curled a hand around the back of Laurie’s head, his other arm around her waist, pulling her closer right before Jussy reached out and picked up Deke’s hand.

She brought it to her mouth and she started singing in husky, broken whispers when the lyrics became about getting to the church on time.

Tate watched her open his hand, curling it on her face, singing into his palm like her song could keep the pulse beating at its base.

Suddenly, she slumped forward, forcing Deke’s hand to sift into the hair at the back of her head. Her forehead hit the side of his bed and she finished the song, the lilt of desperate hope gone in her voice, nothing but sorrow remaining, as she sang the final words, all this clenching Deke’s fingers with hers in the back of her hair.

Something struck him.

Tate tore his gaze off Jussy and took it to Deke.

His friend had his eyes open and there was no missing the question in them.

Tate nodded his head slowly, sharing that yes, he was taking care of Deke’s woman.