If only

Chapter Twenty-Four

We’re all alive. Sally stood in an emergency-room cubicle beside the stretcher cart where Galen lay. Galen is alive. She kept repeating the reassurances to herself. Vance is alive. Didn’t help. She still couldn’t stop shaking. She was so dreadfully cold.

His shirt already off, Galen was talking to the skinny doctor setting out a suture kit. Beside Sally, a nurse in pink flowered scrubs pulled on sterile gloves.

Vance was in another curtained-off room, but his ER doctor hadn’t let Sally stay with him.

This doctor was nicer.

With a gauze pad, the nurse started to wipe the blood away from the horrible rents in Galen’s skin. All over his beautiful chest. The white gauze turned red. The nurse picked up another. So many long, gaping slashes.

Black shimmered around the edges of Sally’s vision. Blood kept trickling down his side. Her mouth tasted like tin and—

“Christ!” Galen’s voice danced through the mist. Someone cursed. Metal clanged as it hit the floor.

Hard hands caught her as her legs went soft and black clouds filled her head.

“Down you go, baby girl.” Somehow on his feet, Galen backed her up, sat her in a chair, and relentlessly pressed her head down until her forehead rested on her knees.

She actually felt blood surge back into her brain. After a minute, she muttered, “Enough.” He released her and set a hand on her shoulder, helping her sit up. “I’m okay.” Aside from being really embarrassed.

His dark eyes held amusement. “You’re far, far better than just okay, imp,” he said softly. “But I want you out of here. I’ll find you after I’m stitched up.” He turned to the nurse, and even shirtless with blood streaking his chest, he was a force to be reckoned with. “Please get her something to drink, miss. And help her to the waiting room.”

“Of course.”

A few minutes later, she was tucked into the corner of the ugly sitting area. Plastic chairs ringed the room. A television on the wall displayed a sitcom. A woman held a towel to a cut on her face. Children were coughing. Crying.

Trying to not think about the past hours, Sally stewed about something less…traumatic. Like her future. Just look how she’d frozen up when Vance got shot. Because of the blood. She’d almost passed out seeing Galen bleed.

And I want to work in law enforcement?

Sally shook her head. Even if she concentrated on computers, she’d still come face-to-face with blood and death, whether in the hallways or picking up equipment.

Did she really want a job like that? No. With a sigh of both regret and relief, she mentally crossed off law enforcement from her list of potential employers. She’d find job where she wouldn’t see dead people. Or blood.

But…

But what if Galen or Vance came home looking like they did today? Coldness took root in her belly, spreading outward. This was what they did. Day after day. How could she let them leave the house, knowing what they might face?

More chills ran over her body as she saw again the splattering blood, the pained grunt Vance had made at the bullet’s impact. He’d been hurt, and she hadn’t been able to help him. What if she wasn’t even there next time? With a moan, she buried her head in her hands.

“Sally.”

Master Z’s smooth, deep voice pulled her from the dark places.

Shaking herself back to reality, Sally inhaled the scent of cleaners overlying the foulness of excrement and infection. She rubbed her fingers together, feeling the tackiness of old blood on her hands. The television was blaring. But she was back in the present. She looked up.

Master Z stood in the door of the waiting room, holding a brown paper grocery sack.

She frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“Dan called.” After putting his sack on a chair, he lifted Sally to her feet, holding her steady as her legs wobbled. “Galen has hospital paperwork to fill out before he can leave. But Vance has been admitted for the night. Shall we go see him?”

“Please.” And as if she had the right, she burrowed into his arms. He tucked her in closer, holding her firmly—anchoring her—and she knew that no matter what would go wrong, she had a refuge. A place of safety her father had never given her.

When she finally stepped back, her legs felt as if they belonged to her body again. “Thank you,” she whispered.

His gray eyes softened. “You’re one of mine, little one. Don’t forget it again.”

As tears pooled in her eyes, he touched her cheek gently, picked up his sack, and led her from the room.

Endless corridors later, he opened a hospital door and guided her inside.

Vance lay in the bed. Under his dark tan, his color was almost gray.

Her feet froze in place on the ugly linoleum floor. But after an eternity, his chest rose and fell. He was sleeping. She clenched her hands as she fought the need to wake him, to know—know—that he was alive.

“Sit there,” Master Z murmured and gently pushed her down in a chair by the bed. “Galen should be up in a minute.”

“He’s coming.” Dan and Kari walked into the room. “He wouldn’t let them admit him,” Dan grumbled. “Wouldn’t even accept the loan of a wheelchair. Stubborn bastard.”

Finally Galen came in, leaning heavily on an ugly metal cane, and Sally rushed to his side. She started to grab him, remembered the stitches, and—ever so carefully—put her arms around him.

He snorted. “I’m not as fragile as all that, pet.” After leaning his cane against the foot of the bed, he pulled her into him. His arms were the same iron bars she remembered, his chest muscular, his body ever so solid. Z might be a refuge, but here was her home. “Sally?”

She was unable to release him, unable to talk. Every word thickened in her throat and clogged it. Her shaking returned, starting in her belly and moving outward. He could have died.

“Shhh.” His cheek rested on the top of her head.

“Want to sit?” Dan asked him.

Galen’s arms tightened. “No. I just need to hold her. Came too close to losing her. To losing them both.”

Oh, she knew. She knew. He smelled of antiseptic, of sweat and blood, of danger and death and life, and she fully intended to relax her grip—in a year or two.

“If you’re going to have a party in my room, I expect alcohol.” Vance’s voice sounded as if he’d dragged it over the gravel road to their house.

“I believe I have that covered,” Z said. Everyone in the room looked at him. “Dan mentioned your aversion to pain meds, so I brought a different kind of a sedative. Although, I have to say, the pills are more effective.”

Galen shrugged. “I’m not hurt that bad, and I have reports to fill out and imps to hold.”

“Better be only one imp you’re hugging, Sir,” Sally muttered into his chest and heard his huff of a laugh.

“I don’t like being blurry after action,” Vance said to Master Z, sounding so irritable that he might win the Master Grumpy Pants title from Galen. “They always give me too much.”

Galen kissed her head. “Someone else needs a hug, pet,” he said under his breath.

Just what she’d longed to do…if she could find an uninjured place on his body. “Only if you’ll sit down,” Sally answered and got a nod in return.

She moved to the bed, put down the railing, and slid her hip next to Vance’s. Then she waited for permission.

“God, yes,” he muttered and reached for her.

His big hands closed on her shoulders, and he pulled her down onto his chest. When his arm wrapped around her as if he’d never let her go, she nestled her head in the hollow of his shoulder and sighed in contentment.

She could hear the almost inaudible sound of his matching sigh.

Galen limped over to the chair, shoved it closer to the bed, and sank into it. “You all right, bro?” he asked Vance.

“Hurts like a son of a bitch, but any gunfight you walk away from is a good one.”

“Ayuh.”

Sally wanted to smack them both. Her voice came out tight as she said, “How about you stay out of gunfights in the future, okay?”

There was silence, not the instant agreement she was hoping for. Instead, Vance asked, “The woman Somerfeld had with him—she going to be all right?”

“Eventually.”

Sally lifted her head and saw Galen’s jaw tighten as he continued, “A long eventually. But her husband and parents are on their way here.”

Sally remembered the woman’s blank stare and sent off a prayer. Please, help her heal.

“Hand me that, please?” Master Z said to someone. A second later came the distinctive sound of a champagne cork. “Galen. Vance. Since your doctors said you both refused pain meds, you can substitute this…if we can keep the nurses from finding out. Kitten, can you locate the glasses?”

Jessica was here? Sally lifted her head and saw more Shadowlands people had entered. Dressed in pale green slacks and top that brought color to the ugly room, Jessica was handing Z something from a sack. Master Cullen occupied one wall, and Andrea leaned against him. Marcus and Gabi must have come from the tournament. Nolan had an arm slung around Beth, who pressed into his side. Kari stood in front of Dan with his arm crossing her chest, keeping her back against his chest.

And they were all smiling and accepting drinks.

When Z handed a glass to Vance, Sally sat up and accepted one from Jessica. “What’s the celebration?” she asked.

Master Z held up his plastic stemmed glass. “To the end of the Harvest Association. Well done, gentlemen.”

As the hearty chorus of agreement echoed around the room, Vance stared at them.

Galen’s face held the same stunned look. “Yes.” His lips tilted up. “You’re right. That really was the last one.” He lifted his glass in the toast and took a sip. Blinked. “Now that’s champagne.” He took another sip and took the bottle from Z’s hand to examine the label. “Blanc des Millenaires? You do us proud.”

“You’ve earned it.” Z took the bottle and refilled Galen’s glass. “Enjoy. You’re staying with Dan and Kari tonight—and Dan is driving.”

“Got it all planned out, eh?” Galen gave Z a narrow look. “Thank you, Mama.”

Into the stunned silence of the submissives, Z smiled and answered, “You’re welcome, my boy.”

The room broke up with laughter, but Sally didn’t join in. “I want to go home,” she whispered. She wanted her own room, her bed, her…stuff.

Vance had heard her. “Aside from being a crime scene, there’s blood and glass all over. And it needs to air out. You and Galen need to stay somewhere else tonight.”

To lose the hope of going home felt like having a Band-Aid ripped off. With an unhappy sigh, she took a sip of her drink. Okay, it really was good champagne.

Galen frowned. “We need to get the place cleaned up before—”

“I sent a crew,” Nolan interrupted in his usual no-bullshit manner. “They’ll fix the window.”

Galen said, “But—”

“Andrea recommended a trauma and crime scene cleaning service,” Cullen cut in, hugging his sub who ran a normal cleaning business. “They’ll be out there as soon as the police give them clearance.”

Vance stared. “You—”

Seeing the Feds’ surprise, Sally hid her grin against Vance’s shoulder. Her poor Doms had no idea what happened when a Shadowlands Master—or submissive—needed help.

“Gabi and I swung by and managed to coax Glock into a carrier,” Marcus said.

“Boy, I use insults…but nothing like a cat in a foul mood.” Gabi rolled her eyes. “It’s a good thing Marcus doesn’t speak feline, since your cat started with, ‘Rat-turd human, if I throw a stick, will you leave?’ and descended to, ‘Chicken-butt human, you’re so ugly, Hello Kitty said good-bye to you.’”

Sally could just see Glock with his tail twitching and hissing out insults. As she giggled, laughter swept around the room.

Galen’s deep laugh turned into a groan, and he pressed his hand over his ribs where that bastard Somerfeld had kicked him. Horribly hard.

Sally glared at Gabi.

“Sorry, Galen,” Gabi said, grinning unrepentantly.

“We took Glock to the pet boarding place we use during vacations.” Marcus handed Galen a card. He glanced at Vance and tapped the hospital bed rail. “Happens I like having you on that side of the bed railing rather than me.”

Vance grinned. “I’ll be out tomorrow. And thank you for finding Glock.” He held his hand out to shake and winced.

“Don’t move,” Sally snapped at him before turning a frown on Marcus.

The lawyer chuckled. “Easy, li’l spitfire. I know how much bullet holes hurt. At least, I was smart enough to take pain meds.”

Yeah, he’d been shot last year—and Gabi had been crazed. As Sally put her head back down on Vance’s shoulder, she remembered how Raoul had been shot as well. How upset Kim had been. But at least her friends’ Doms weren’t in law enforcement.

Hers were. So this might not be a one-time deal, not for them. Her Feds might have gotten rid of the Harvest Association, but there were always more criminals.

Criminals had guns. And knives. And gasoline.

Sally’s unnatural stillness on the drive to Dan’s house had given Galen an uneasy feeling. And when she’d disappeared into the nursery with Kari, with barely a smile for him, he was downright worried.

“Problem?” Carrying a couple of beers, Dan motioned him out the back door.

“Not sure.” Ignoring the patio swing, Galen settled into a dark wicker chair with a grunt of relief. In the future, he’d avoid kneeing a perp in the jaw. After leaning his cane against the chair, he stretched his leg out. “She’s upset about something.”

Dan sat down across from him and handed over a beer. “All three of you almost died. The house could have blown up. She watched a man almost burn to death. You seriously expect her to be cheerful?”

“No. But there are different kinds of upset. This one feels different.” Galen took a long pull of icy-cold liquid.

From the window above came Kari’s soft laughter. But Sally’s infectious giggle was absent, and Galen felt the loss deep inside.

“You’re a good enough Dom to know if something is off.” Dan’s eyes narrowed. “Thinking back, seems like she changed after she switched positions, from your arms to curling up against Vance. But I didn’t get the feeling she has a problem with having two men. And you’ve been sharing her all along.”

“No, this isn’t related to threesome problems. I think it might be when Marcus reminded her that he’d been shot.” Galen frowned. If she’d remembered that, she’d also remember Raoul’s time in the hospital. And Vance had been shot twice now. And my chest looks like I went headfirst through a paper shredder. Far too much violence for a young woman who’d grown up on a farm rather than in a city. “She might have realized how dangerous our work can be.”

“She knows. Hell, she works in my station.”

“And she’s not doing well with it. The sight of blood bothers her, even more than violence. I’m going to try to talk her out of taking a position in a law-enforcement area.”

“You fucking asshole. I just got the brass talked into offering her a job.”

“Now there’s a pity.” Galen grinned briefly, then sobered. “Did Kari have trouble with your job?”

“Oh yeah, for a few months. Now she’s okay. But from what you said, Sally has suffered more loss than Kari. And has less family.” He rose and looked down at Galen. “If she takes you on, she’ll have two lovers at risk every day. You going to ask that of her?”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. You think about it. Better yet, talk about it. Fuck, I’ve learned recently that sometimes—Dom or not—there’s no understanding what’s in a woman’s head.” Dan tipped his bottle in a salute. “I’m going to see what Kari has planned for tomorrow. It’s Father’s Day—my first.”

As Dan walked into the house, Galen repositioned his injured leg and tamped down his feeling of envy for the lucky bastard. Yeah, time to start looking toward the future.

In the west, the sunset slowly faded, leaving behind pink streamers like the sad remnants of a party.

Sally held Zane in her arms, swaying back and forth, nuzzling his neck. He smelled like soap and baby powder—and love. Something about holding him settled her. With an adorable grin, he hit her nose with the rattle he held.

“Sheesh. I guess guys are just born violent,” she muttered.

Kari finished putting away the stack of baby clothes and laughed. “Nah. My cousin’s daughter pulled her hair so often that she started wearing it on top of her head.” She pointed to the rocking chair in the corner. “Sit. He gets heavier with every minute you hold him.”

Sally grinned and bounced Zane, making him squeal with laughter. “Yep, he’s definitely getting heavier.” After settling into the chair, she looked over at her friend. “Kari?”

“Mmmhmm.” Another stack of clothing got tucked away.

“Doesn’t Dan’s job ever bother you? That he could get hurt?”

Kari turned, saw Sally’s expression, and sank down onto the ottoman. “Oh, you got the cop’s wife syndrome. No wonder, after today.”

“Yeah.” She kissed Zane’s soft cheek, trying to keep the memories at bay.

“Yes, it bothered me. A lot. Still kinda does.” She gave Sally a wry smile. “Although we talked about it, he could only promise that he’d be careful. The thing is, being a cop is who he is. Right down to the bone. And I can’t love him and ask him to be someone different.”

“I guess.” Sally rocked a little faster, thrilling Zane, who decided to stand on her lap and bounce along. Didn’t sound as if there was a good answer. But she was sure she now knew how Galen had felt when he was worried about her safety. God, how did he stand it? She gave Kari a bright smile. “You and Dan look…happier.”

“Last night was…” Kari sighed with a happy smile. “Like we were before Zane.” She rubbed a finger over her lips. “Maybe even lovelier.”

“How’s that?”

“We know each other better. I trust him even more because I’ve seen him with Zane. Dan really is as protective and caring and strong as I thought in the beginning. And when he cuddles our son, I just melt”—she gave Sally a mischievous look—“in a whole different way than seeing him in black leathers.”

“You are too much.” Sally lifted Zane and blew a raspberry on his belly.

“Sally, I owe you thanks for pushing me into talking with Dan,” Kari said softly. “And so I’m going to do you the same favor. Talk with your guys. It’s truly easy to decide someone is thinking about one thing, when really, you’ve got a whole different problem.”

Hmm. And what had that discussion between Dan and Kari been about? Sally wondered. But she’d probably never know. Some women shared all. Others didn’t. Sally nodded. “I will. In fact, can I sit up here and sing lullabies to Zane while I think?”

“Of course.”

Galen rubbed his face. Exhaustion, aching bones, lacerations—God, he felt old. And frustrated. He’d worried and worked to keep Sally safe, and instead she’d ended up front and center in a bloodbath. Insisted on being there. God, she was brave.

The door to the house creaked; Sally stepped out on the patio. With just the sight of her, his muscles and bones and soul seemed to inhale contentment. She was alive. No longer in danger.

She gave him an uncertain look, something he never wanted to see from her. “Can I join you or—”

“I can’t think of anything I’d like better.” He reached out.

She took his hand with cold fingers. Resisting his attempt to pull her onto his lap, she edged his legs apart and knelt between them.

Seeing her unhappy expression, he wasn’t tempted by her provocative position. Instead he ran his hand down her silky hair. “Tell me.”

She lowered her gaze…and he permitted it…for the moment. “Um,” she said and paused briefly. “I knew your job was dangerous, but I didn’t know—imagine—how dangerous. But you told me how you and Vance got shot up. I watched Tillman’s funeral. Saw his children.”

Look at her, launching herself right at the heart of the matter. Before he’d known her—back when he’d just watched her in the club, she’d been a bossy little sub. Finding out that she’d hidden her emotions had come as a surprise. But now she was still a bossy little sub, and even better, she was hiding no longer. He was wicked proud of her. “Go on.”

“I…I just wanted you to know that I’m struggling with it. I know I can’t ask you to give up your careers for safer ones, but…”

He chuckled. “Seems we’ve been having the same arguments with ourselves. You see, Vance and I planned to ask you to not take a job in a police station because they stress you out.”

“You’d choose my job for me?” A sparkle of anger lit in her eyes.

Galen shook her head. No, she wouldn’t want to give up her dream of working in law enforcement. She wanted to be a hero.

“Not because of the danger.” At the slight lift of her chin, he admitted, “Not entirely. But face it, pet, you don’t sleep well if you have to visit crime scenes.”

“I haven’t noticed you sleeping all that well either, Mr. Big Shot Special Agent.”

“I don’t have a pro—” He stopped his automatic…idiotic…response, because she was right. How many years had it been since he slept without worrying about problems? Or having nightmares?

Each new case dragged him further toward—he stroked her hair and smiled—toward what the imp would call the dark side. If he continued, would he be able to fight his way free?

Earlier, Z had stated the Association was finished, and Galen had been happy, feeling as if he’d stepped into the sunlight.

Slowly but surely, his life had grown…narrower. Less balanced. Even with Sally to love, he didn’t see that changing.

So, what was he planning to bring to a relationship? To Sally?

As he looked down at the submissive at his feet, at his sweet imp, he knew he didn’t want to spend his life in darkness. Didn’t want to drag her down either, because, being Sally, she’d dive in to help.

And she’d worry when he got pulled back into another case. She’d be right. He wasn’t able to distance himself from the cases he took. He never had been.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only person who wanted to be a hero.