He’d only known what the 1stdistrict station supervisor had told him over an early-morning phone call. Since he and his team were last to arrest Boogie, it was customary for him to be notified of any illegal activity involving him and his crew.
The story was Boogie had been shot while in the commission of a home invasion, but the narrative didn’t sit right with Nick. For one, he should have been informed that he’d made bail.
“Boogie,” she croaked. After clearing her throat, she said, “It was Boogie. He thought I set him up… set up the raid.”
Nick frowned, shaking his head. “What? Why would he think that?”
“He saw me kissing you at Butterfly.”
Nick dropped his head and ran his fingers roughly through his hair. “Nooo,” he groaned.
“Is he dead?” she asked timidly.
Nick raised his head and looked at her. She appeared to be fighting back tears that were pooling in her soft, brown eyes.
“No,” he said softly.
In her eyes, he saw relief. In his, there must have been disappointment. He raised a brow. “You shot off his junk, though,” he offered with a bit of glee.
She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a frustrated groan. Judging from her reaction, Nick thought it best not to bring up Boogie’s dead buddy.
“I’ll give you some time with your dad.”
He moved to walk away, but she grabbed his hand. “Sergeant?”
“Nick. Please call me Nick.”
“Nick, he… he’s going to jail, right?”
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and looked her in the eyes. “Rest easy, Rebecca. That son of a bitch is done.”
“Okay,” she whispered with a nod. “Thank you.”
Nick nodded and took a reluctant step away from her bedside. He left the room, tempted to visit Boogie’s room. It was just one level below. It would’ve been so easy to enter his room, wrap his fingers around his neck, and deprive him of the oxygen he’d tried to deny Rebecca.
In lieu of murder, Nick opted to spend some quiet time with his wife. After a crowded ride on the elevator and two quick turns, he walked into her room. The familiar beep from the machines and the whoosh of the respirator was a sad reminder of his reality.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he greeted with a kiss to her head.
Nick ran his thumb along her hairline, amazed at how much her dark hair had grown while in her vegetative state. When he leaned in to kiss her forehead, guilt for where his lips had been the night before washed over him.
Nick covered her large belly with his hand. Although a band of medical professionals had told him there was no life left in his wife, they were all wrong. Something inside Vera was fighting to keep their baby alive. Even though a machine was doing the breathing for her, her heart was beating strong.
“Good morning, Sergeant Cato.”
Nick looked up at Karen’s smiling face. He smiled in return, unable to think of a time when the nurse wasn’t smiling. “Good morning.”
She pushed the pump on the wall dispenser and saturated her hands with antibacterial gel. “You’re early,” she pointed out while slipping on a pair of gloves. She checked Vera’s IV and pushed a few buttons on the many machines next to her bed.
“Yeah, I know. I was in the area.”
“Well, Miss Vera has been bathed already. I was just about to massage those limbs.”
Karen lowered the blanket covering Vera and raised her gown. After adjusting the dial that was attached to an elastic belt around her waist, she reached for a knob on one of the machines. She looked up at him, grinning from ear to ear, knowing that she was about to put a smile on his face. “Ready?”
Nick nodded. He was filled with enthusiasm as Karen turned the knob, ready to make his day. The sound of his child’s heartbeat reverberating throughout the small room warmed his heart. No matter how many times he heard the proof of his thriving seed, his heart squeezed as if it were the first time.
“He’s strong,” Nick bragged.
