Sheriff’s Secret Page 25

  Toby glances at my phone when Jax calls again. I flip it over, not comfortable with him seeing my happiness. Toby no longer has that privilege. His rights to me have been revoked.

  “I’m sorry you traveled all this way, but you need to leave,” I grit out, forcing my voice to sound commanding and firm. “I have work to do and this conversation ended years ago.”

  He stubbornly shakes his head. “No, Dante boo. I won’t leave without a fight this time.”

  “What about last time?” I snarl, my anger and hurt rearing its ugly head and making him flinch. “What was it that made you realize you suddenly didn’t love me anymore? Was it Bradley? Someone else? You don’t get to waltz back into my life and pick up where we left off before you shredded my fucking heart, Toby. We’re done. You made that abundantly clear a long time ago.”

  His shoulders tremble as he cries. At one time, I wouldn’t have been immune to his emotional theatrics. Even when he left me, I felt bad for him crying about it. My heart was in tatters and I still wanted to console him through his pain. What a fucking joke.

  Not now.

  My heart is hardened where Toby is concerned, and soft for another.

  What Toby and I had was nice. It felt real at the time. However, I never was so fully consumed by him like I was with Jax from the second I met him. Jax and I were—and still are—instant fire. But it’s more than just a good lay with Jax, he fulfils me in ways no one else can, hence probably why I can’t lie to myself and call this a weekend fling gone on too long.

  I love Jaxson Bell.

  Seeing Toby and being forced to compare the two makes that realization as clear as day.

  My phone continues to buzz. I wish Toby would just leave so I could confess my innermost thoughts to Jax. How he makes me feel whole just by being himself. Yeah, it’s fucking annoying that he’s in the closet and afraid of being shunned by this town, but it’s something we can surely get past. He’s been doing his best taking steps forward like admitting his relationship with me to his brother and going out on dates with me this week. We’ll eventually get there. I know it.

  “Do I need to call you an Uber?” I ask, not hiding my irritation of his presence.

  “I rented a car—”

  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Shelly screeches, bursting into the room. The tears rolling down her cheeks cause instant panic.

  I stand abruptly, my heart in my throat. “What’s wrong?”

  “C-Callan. It’s Callan.” She sobs, her entire body trembling. “Jax called. He said for us to head up to the hospital.”

  “Oh my God,” Toby chokes out. “Is he okay?”

  My sister sweeps her stare over him, disgust transforming her sad features. “You need to leave, Toby. This is a family matter and you’re no longer part of it.”

  I don’t even get onto her for her rudeness because Callan is going to the hospital.

  Oh, God.

  Callan is sick or hurt.

  Pain I only thought was gut-wrenching when Toby left me pales in comparison to the agony I will feel if something happens to my little brother.

  He’s going to be okay.

  He has to be.

  Jaxson

  “Interrogate everyone,” I bark out at Brie as I climb into the ambulance with Callan.

  The doors close behind us and it takes off as the paramedic hovers over Callan, checking his vitals. Callan’s eyes are closed, one swollen and purple already. His dark hair is matted with blood and it seeps through the bandage the EMTs put on him while in the locker room in an attempt to control the bleeding.

  He was beaten.

  Badly.

  And, from the looks of it, with a baseball bat.

  What sick sonofabitch does that to someone?

  Callan moans, his one eye fluttering open for a moment. A tear leaks out as his eye. I gently take his hand in mine, squeezing it.

  “It’s okay,” I murmur. “We’ll be at the hospital soon. Dante and Shelly will be there to meet us.”

  As though relieved by my words, his eye closes again. The paramedic tries to keep him roused, but from the looks of it, he’s unconscious again. A quick look outside and I’m relieved to see we’re almost to Blue Shark Boulevard where Beacon Island Hospital is located.

  Dante and Shelly are going to be devastated.

  Someone beat the fuck out of their brother. This wasn’t a simple rough and tumble high school ass whipping either. Someone wanted to kill him.

  I’d been in the middle of texting with Dante when I got the call from the school. At first, I thought it was Brandon to give me more shit about Zak. I was right about the Brandon part, but he wasn’t calmly explaining what a troublemaker my brother was. No, he was frantic, on the verge of a panic attack as he begged for me and Brie to get to the school because someone had been attacked. She and I made it there in record speed, arriving just as the EMTs did. In the brief time I was there, I saw Cormac bawling his eyes out. He was the one to find Callan.

  I keep hold of Callan’s hand but use my other to pull out my phone to text Brie.

  Me: I want a list of everyone who was in attendance at that school today. Every student from kindergarten up, every teacher, every faculty member, every janitor, every coach, every parent. Start with Cormac and anyone who had PE that period. Get me a list of suspects and bag the bat for evidence.

  As soon as she confirms that she’s on it, I shove the phone back into my pocket, bracing myself as we bounce into the small hospital parking lot. The ambulance takes us to the trauma bay where nurses are already waiting for us.

  From there, they rush him out of the ambulance and into the building, quickly exchanging information with the EMTs. I follow behind them for as long as they’ll allow. When they take him back to trauma to assess the most important of his injuries—the cranial laceration—I’m forced to take a seat in the ER lobby.

  Several minutes later, Dante and Shelly arrive. I rise to my feet as they rush over to me. Shelly’s face is tearstained while Dante’s is morphed into a pained expression that makes my heart physically hurt.

  I pull Dante into my arms, hugging him tight. “Thank fuck you’re here.”

  “What happened?” Shelly demands tearfully. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Pulling away from Dante, I settle for taking his hand in mine and not letting him go. They’re not going to handle this news well. Hell, I wouldn’t if it were my brother.

  “Callan was beaten severely with a baseball bat,” I state, squeezing Dante’s hand when he sucks in a sharp breath. “Brie’s at the school now, gathering what information she can. I’ll need to head back up there shortly to continue the investigation.”

  “Oh God,” Shelly whimpers, clinging to her brother’s free arm. “Is he going to be okay?”

  “He was unconscious when Cormac found him. The EMTs were able to rouse him and then again in the ambulance he came to for a moment.”

  “Why would someone do this?” Dante chokes out, his voice quaking with emotion, though no tears fall.

  “I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out who did it,” I assure him. “And they’re going away for a long time for it, too.”

  “Can we see him?” Shelly asks. “Or…”

  “The worst of his wounds is the cranial laceration. It was bleeding profusely, so they’ll need to get him in right away for a CT scan to check for skull fractures.” I lean my forehead against Dante’s. “When he woke, I told him you guys were almost here. He’s going to be okay.”

  Of course, I don’t know that, but my boyfriend and his sister need to hear it. They need hope that he will. Callan is young, so I’m hopeful he’ll pull through. The alternative isn’t even an option. The Kincaids already lost their parents. They can’t lose their brother too.

  “Sit,” I say to them. “They’ll be back there for a while.”

  Dante allows me to lead him to a chair. As soon as we sit, I pull him to me, wrapping my arm around him to comfort him. When Hans shows up
, I’m thankful Shelly has him to hold her too.

  “Why would someone do this?” Dante asks again, his voice small and distant. “Why would they hurt my baby brother? He’s harmless.”

  “Some people are just plain fucking evil.”

  “Will he go into a coma? Will he have amnesia?” Dante’s voice rises with each question, making Shelly sob harder.

  “I’m not sure.”

  We wait for what feels like forever. Eventually, a dark-skinned nurse I’ve seen around town—Boaz—comes out to speak with us. Once he confirms we’re Callan’s family, he delivers the news.

  “Callan has a depressed skull fracture,” Boaz says, his features grim. “It requires immediate surgery because there are fragments of his skull pressing into his brain.”

  Shelly whimpers and Dante sways. I wrap an arm around his waist to keep him steady.

  “The surgery should be fairly uncomplicated,” Boaz assures us. “We see this type of injury a lot with the fishermen who fall and hit their heads on boats while at sea. Dr. Olson is the surgeon here. He’ll remove the fragments, put them back into place, and make sure it holds together with metal wires or mesh. Callan is young and he should heal nicely from this.”

  The relief is palpable. Dante’s body relaxes slightly.

  “He’ll be moved to private recovery room after the surgery until he’s stable,” Boaz explains, “but I’m confident that he’ll make a full recovery. He’s going to be sore because though the skull fracture was the worst of his injuries, his bruising is extensive. We’ll be able to further asses him once he’s conscious and the surgery is complete.” His eyes skate over to me, briefly glancing at the way I hold on to Dante, before meeting my gaze, his eyes somehow kinder than before. “I trust you’ll find the monster who did this, Sheriff?”

  “You better believe it,” I vow.

  “Very well. I’ll get back to it and will return with updates as soon as he’s out of surgery.”

  As soon as he’s gone, I turn to look at Dante, cupping his cheeks in my hands. “Will you be okay with Shelly and Hans?”

  His hazel eyes are glazed over. “Hmm?”

  “He will be,” Hans assures me. “Now go find the monster who did this.”

  Quickly, I press a kiss to Dante’s lips. “Let me borrow your keys. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Cormac swipes at another tear, his bottom lip wobbling. His eyes are bloodshot and his hair is wrecked, sticking up in different directions from him pulling at it.

  We’ve been at this for hours, and so far, Cormac is our best lead since he found Callan. I’m hoping by him telling us again what happened, that maybe he’ll come up with some new clue for us.

  “We were supposed to meet up,” Cormac says, shivering. “After Callan got out of PE. All week we’ve been meeting near the library since we have history together.”

  “He didn’t mention he’d be late?” Brie asks.

  Cormac shakes his head. “The bell was about to ring and he still hadn’t shown up, so I went to look for him.” His eyes water. “You know the rest. I walked into the locker room and he was lying in a pool of blood.”

  “Has he mentioned anyone following him or giving him trouble?” I stand and walk over to the mini fridge at the station to retrieve him another soda.

  “No, but…”

  I pop the tab on the Coke and hand it to him before sitting back down. “But what?”

  “He was being weird today. Seemed tense and fidgety. I was going to ask him about it during history class,” Cormac chokes out. “I should have asked him sooner.”

  “Hey,” Brie murmurs in a soothing tone. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

  “Was there anyone else at school behaving strangely that you noticed? Anyone outside of the school loitering who shouldn’t have been there?” I scrub my palm over my face, wishing like hell I had answers to bring to Dante. “Anything could help.”

  “I’m sorry,” Cormac whimpers. “I wish I knew more.”

  “It’s all right,” I assure him. “Let us know if you think of anything else.”

  “Do you need a ride home?” Brie asks. “I can take you.”

  He shakes his head, his eyes shifting to his lap. “I can walk.”

  “Nonsense,” I say to him. “I’m about to head back to the hospital. I could drop you off along the way.”

  “No,” he clips out. “I can walk. If we’re done here, I’m going to go.”

  “Sure, Cormac. Keep us informed,” I say with a frustrated sigh.

  He grabs the coat I’d given him the day I met him and pulls it on. With a quick wave, he slips out the door and into the cold.

  “We’re getting nowhere,” Brie huffs. “Tomorrow, I’ll go back to the school and question more people.” Her phone buzzes and she glances at it. “What kind of pizza do you want? Hank is grabbing us food since neither of us has eaten all day.”

  “I’m not hungry,” I grumble. “Plus, I need to get back up there to check on Callan. When you see Hank, though, ask him if any students were late for his class besides Callan and Cormac.”

  “How’s Zak handling it?” she asks. “I know they’re joined at the hip lately.”

  “Devastated. Furious. Frustrated. Just like the rest of us. He went up to the hospital not long after I left this afternoon and has been feeding me updates since Dante’s phone went dead. Since he just left for his shift at the bowling alley, I’m going to see if I can’t get Shelly and Dante to go home for a bit and rest.”

  “Good idea,” Brie says. “Did you ever return Paul’s phone call?”

  “I texted him back just a bit ago. I’ll do a press release tomorrow. He’s running the story of the attack in the paper tomorrow morning, but I’ll field questions from the public after it’s gone out.”

  Brie hugs me after I’ve put on my coat. “We’ll figure it out, Jax. I swear it.”

  “I sure hope so.” I kiss the top of her head. “Thanks for all your help today.”

  The drive to the hospital is short and I find Dante, Shelly, and Hans all still perched in the same chairs. Callan went straight to a private recovery room after surgery until he’s stabilized and has been doped up on meds ever since. He’s on a ventilator at the moment, but Dr. Olson is certain they’ll be able to take him off tomorrow. Tonight they want to monitor him closely and get him out of the clear.

  “Any new news?” I ask as I approach.

  Shelly shakes her head. “Sleeping. Vitals are good.”

  I glance at the clock. “Visiting hours are over now.”

  “We want to be here for when he wakes up,” Shelly says, her red eyes meeting mine.

  “You need rest, Shelly,” I say to her. “You all three do. Come on. I’ll drive you all back.”

  After some convincing, I finally manage to load them into Dante’s Range Rover, take them through a drive through so everyone can scarf down a quick bite, and then take them back. Once in the solitude of Dante’s bedroom, I head into the bathroom to run him a bath. He strips down and sinks into the hot water, groaning.

  “Stay with me,” he croaks out. “Please.”

  I shed my clothes and then climb in with him, settling behind him, thankful for the giant tub. He lays his back against my chest. Gently, I stroke soothing circles on his abdomen beneath the hot water, pressing kisses to the side of his neck.

  “I failed him.” His voice is gruff. “I failed the one I was supposed to protect.”

  “No,” I say in a firm tone. “You’ve been there for him your entire life. Don’t blame yourself for something out of your control.”

  He grows quiet and then he mutters, “Toby came to see me today.”

  “Toby? As in your ex?”

  “I always wondered what would happen when he eventually came crawling back to me.”

  Jealousy spikes through me, and though it’s the wrong time to feel like this, I can’t help it. “What happened?”

  “He realized he wanted me back. Called off the weddin
g with his fiancé.” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Sounded familiar.”

  “You told him to eat shit and die?” I hug him tighter.

  “Close enough. I realized I don’t miss him at all. There’s only one man who makes me happy even though happiness is the last thing I deserve to feel right now when my brother is lying in a hospital bed.”

  My heart surges at his words. “You deserve all the happiness in the world, big city man.”

  “You kissed me at the hospital,” Dante murmurs.

  “I did.” I don’t flinch or feel a pang of regret or fear either. “It felt pretty fucking right, too.”

  I want him to agree, but he says nothing.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Dante.”

  Dante

  I pace the small hospital room, my eyes never leaving Callan as Dr. Olson examines him. He spent the night in the private recovery room, but this morning they moved him to a regular room since they were able to take him off the ventilator. My baby brother is nearly unrecognizable due to all the bruising and swelling. Every time I look at him, I’m sickened, yet I can’t look away because I need the reminder.

  Jax peeks his head into the room and I drag my stare from my brother to the only person keeping me together. He carries in two cups of coffee and hands one off to me.

  “Where’s Shelly?”

  “Just left,” I reply, dragging my stare back to my brother. “Since Callan is awake and on the mend, Hans thought she should distract herself with projects at the B&B.”

  “Probably for the best. Have you spoken to him yet about what happened?”

  I shake my head. “We were just talking about it when Dr. Olson showed up.”

  A nurse I learned is named Boaz walks in with a tray of food and sets it down beside Callan. Dr. Olson says something to Callan, pats his arm, and then makes his way over to us while Boaz assists Callan with his meal. We set our coffees down on the table, eager to hear what Dr. Olson has to say.

  “How’s he doing?” My voice is gritty and raw.

  “Quite remarkably, really,” Dr. Olson says. “I’m certain he’ll make a full recovery with no terrible, lasting effects as far as the head injury is concerned.”