CHAPTER 11—LIFE & DEATH
Bullets whizzed past Remy's head. There was nothing she could do to stop it, she was defenseless and out in the open. She couldn't see Donovan anywhere. She waited for a bullet to rip into her flesh, but none ever did. She was blind, deaf, and mute. To her, it seemed as if the gunfire went on for hours, but it only took a few minutes to complete the final showdown. Despite Donovan's insistence, Jake and Alex came along to the hotel. They could not leave their fearless leader out in the cold. Besides, right at that moment, he wasn't exactly their leader and they weren't bound to obey his orders anymore. They had brought the police and FBI along with them under the guise they were capturing Donovan.
Cheeky was the first to be taken out. He went down fighting, not stopping until he was dead. Lomax hid behind the bed. He had taken a hit to the shoulder, but he was ready to give up. As the gunfire ceased and the noise settled, Jake took custody of Ed Lomax while Alex tended to the almost catatonic hostage. It was at that moment they finally noticed Donovan. He had been shot multiple times and wasn't responding. An ambulance had been summoned during the confusion, and several police officers had begun trying to aid the fallen agent.
Once Remy was released from her bonds, her seeming catatonia lifted. She screamed out for Donovan and ran toward his prone body. She was held back and away by Alex who had basically been right on her heels. She tried to fight with the other woman, but Alex wasn't having it.
"Let them do their jobs," she said to Remy through a severe whisper. "You're not doing him any good fighting like this."
Somehow, some way, Remy found the strength to control her outbursts. But she never took her eyes off her lover. There was blood all over him, and from her vantage point, she couldn't tell if he was even breathing. She couldn't help but feel at fault. If she had only listened to him, if she had thought before she reacted. However, that had never been her way, and now Donovan was paying the price for her idiocy.
* * *
Later, from the ER, a surgeon said, "Tremendous blood loss, we need to get blood in here NOW." The heart monitor stopped beeping, and sounded a steady tone. "Flatline. Get a crash cart over here, STAT."
* * *
The scene in the ER waiting room was bizarre. In one corner of the room, Remy sat alone, completely isolated from the others inside. Her isolation, of course, was self-imposed, but she couldn't tolerate the harsh expressions of the people in the room with her. Who she assumed was Donovan's team was seated in another corner. Two of them she recognized as the ones who had taken down Ed Lomax and had killed Cheeky. The third was an attractive African-American female who stared at her as if she were the Antichrist. The fourth was a young man who seemed totally lost and clueless. Whoever they were, their facial expressions and body language clearly indicated they had serious issues with her.
Of course, they weren't altogether sure what role this woman played in Donovan's shooting. They had all seen her profile, knew her history, and had also seen the photo taken of his tryst with her. They hadn't connected the dots yet, and weren't sure if they wanted to right now. The only thing the five of them had in common was their concern for Donovan. And it was a huge concern. A cowardly ambush attack perpetrated by Edward Lomax had caused four bullets to riddle Donovan's body. Two of them had caused only simple flesh wounds, but the third and fourth had done serious damage. In some type of hideous irony only Lomax could understand, the bullets entered in different areas of his abdomen.
Remy leaned forward in her chair and covered her face with her hands. It had been a long time since they heard any updates. She wanted to leave, but she could only stay. She couldn't move until she knew for certain that Donovan would live. After that, she would slip into obscurity and never interfere in his life again. She was completely oblivious and unaware of the people around her. If they spoke, she didn't hear it. If they moved, she didn't see it. So oblivious was she that she didn't notice as Alex approached her.
Jake, Cody, and Monica had literally begged Alex not to approach the woman. They didn't quite trust her, and they didn't feel right comforting her. But Alex insisted. She couldn't stand to see Remy suffering alone. It wasn't right. She was just as concerned, if not more so, about Donovan as they.
Remy felt a hand upon her shoulder, and she uncovered her face, thinking hopefully it was a doctor with good news. To her surprise, she was looking into the face of the agent with ice-blue eyes. She was so stunned by the gesture that she didn't know what to say or do.
"He'll be okay," she said. "Frank has gone through a lot, and he always seems to come out unscathed."
She couldn't make eye contact with the female agent for long, she felt entirely too guilty. "I didn't listen to him," she whispered as she gazed down at her hands. "I ran off, and he came after me. If I had listened, he wouldn't be here."
Bless her heart, Alex thought. She is falling in love with him. "There is one thing you need to learn about Frank Donovan," she began, "he has his own mind and is the most stubborn person on this planet. Believe me, this was going to happen regardless of whether or not you ran away. From what we've dug up, this Lomax character has had it in for him for years. By the way, I'm Alex."
She nodded at Alex's introduction. "I'm Remy," she said shakily. "Why would this man want to hurt Frank? I thought they were friends?"
"More like enemies," an approaching voice said. It was Jake. He kneeled before Remy and looked up at her gently. "They were friends until Donovan became involved with his sister."
Suddenly, Remy's mind went back to the night Donovan had been dreaming. He had uttered a name. "Cloe?"
"Even I didn't know that," Cody said as he and Monica joined the small crowd forming around Remy.
"You didn't have the file, Code-man," Monica said.
"Apparently, Lomax's sister was killed while she was with Donovan. The grudge never ended," Alex said. "The package Lomax was so paranoid about had photos, documentation, and other little goodies detailing his other job. He was into drugs, money laundering, murder-for-hire, you name it, and he did it. The senator was in on some of those schemes, but he must have decided to get out. He hid this package inside your apartment in the only place Lomax didn't bother looking in."
Shocked, horrified, and fascinated at the same time, Remy gawped at Alex. "Where? I never saw anything."
"Behind your computer desk where only dust bunnies lurk," Jake said nonchalantly.
* * *
Back in the ER, the lead surgeon was desperately trying to salvage the man's life. "We're losing him again. BP is sinking like a stone. Come on, my good man, you have to help us out."
* * *
Although many questions had been answered, there were several for which Remy still had no answer. The wait for news on Donovan was heart wrenching. It had been so long since they received the last update, that Remy had begun to worry. As Donovan had done years before her with Cloe, she couldn't rest. She was certain something had gone wrong. Yet, she couldn't pace. Her legs simply wouldn't support her.
Alex looked up as Jake slipped back into the waiting room. Out of Remy's eyeshot, he motioned for Alex. She left Remy's side and approached him. The stress was evident on his face. "What's wrong?"
Jake shook his head. "They don't think he's going to make it."
* * *
Remy appreciated the unexpected kindness of Donovan's team, but she was a solitary sufferer. She excused herself and began walking down the hallway. Perhaps she would run into someone who could tell her about Donovan. Her gut was telling her that something had gone terribly wrong. If her fears became reality, she would never forgive herself. She walked up and down the same hall a hundred times or more. If she didn't hear an update soon, she would lose her already shaky mind.
She made her way back to the waiting room where the others waited. A feeling close to horror engulfed her when she noticed that Alex and Monica were crying, and the men were clenching their jaws bravely. No, she cried to herself. No. Her heart couldn't take it, her mind couldn't comprehend it. Like Donovan had done so many years before, she passed out cold at the thought of his death.
* * *
A hand smacked her cheek repeatedly. She could hear someone calling her name. It sounded like Monica, but she wasn't sure. Her eyes fluttered open slowly and she blinked them until her vision cleared. The dark, earnest face of the other woman was peering down into hers.
"Are you okay? You bumped your head pretty hard," Cody said.
Her body had been placed down onto a rock hard waiting room couch. She gazed up at the group of faces gazing worriedly down into hers. "Frank? He's dead," she spat through her tears.
"Honey, I don't know which doctor you spoke with, but the one we saw said he's going to be okay," Monica said gently.
She sat up suddenly, not understanding. "But-but you were-were crying."
"Tears of joy."
"I want to see him," she said.
"You can't yet. He's still in recovery," Alex said.
Recovery. Never had a word sounded so beautiful.
* * *
Although Donovan had pulled through surgery, he was still critical. Remy wasn't prepared to see such a strong man looking so vulnerable. There were IV lines running in each arm and a ventilator tube was crammed into his beautiful mouth. The tube was only there as a precaution, and would likely be removed in a few hours, but it still looked so very bad. He was still out cold, but again, he was on massive painkillers.
Remy approached his bedside. She had fought tooth and nail to be allowed inside to see him in ICU. She wasn't his wife, but she lied to gain access, and of course, she had back up from Donovan's team. She touched him. His skin, normally warm and comforting, was clammy to the touch. His dark skin was the ashen color of the ill. It was difficult looking at him like this, knowing that he had nearly given his life for hers.
"Frank," she whispered, unsure if he could even hear her. "I won't ever forget you for what you did for me. I'm sorry I left you, put you in this situation, and I hope you can forgive me. I hope you can also forgive me for saying goodbye. I can't ever let anything happen like this again."
In his foggy, unconscious state, he heard her clearly. It was simply too hard to fight against the painkillers. He wasn't supposed to move or speak, but he was too stubborn to listen to anyone but himself. His eyes fluttered open slowly. He turned his head as far as he could. "Mmmmmm," he moaned. He couldn't speak; the damn tube was stuck in his throat.
"Frank?"
He shook his head and focused his foggy eyes on her face. She could clearly see what he was thinking. Don't leave, his eyes seemed to say. I want you to stay. He wouldn't take no for an answer. He never did.
