Heartbeat, p.39
Heartbeat, page 39
He exchanged a glance with Mace, who had settled on the floor sitting next to Maya with his back against the bed like it was simply another day of them hanging out.
Jake walked past Xavier with the other man following closely behind.
“We’ve got to call somebody, her brother. This isn’t normal,” Xavier said, agitated, but Jake was already on it.
With his phone to his ear, Jake stared off, unseeing.
“Brother, I wouldn’t ask this with Tori being so close to her time, but you need to come see to Maya. She’s... closed up tight, crying, and won’t get off the floor. This is somethin’ else, and I don’t have the skills to deal with it. None of us do,” Jake said low, holding Xavier’s eyes. “Is she still seeing that therapist?”
“Tell him the plane will be ready for both of them in Denver when they arrive,” Xavier said without hesitation, slipping his phone out of his pocket.
CAINE
Caine, his father Thomas, and Maya’s therapist, Dr. Flemmings, arrived late in the evening. Mace nodded hello to Thomas and Dr. Flemmings as Caine strode in, his face hard as he headed straight to his sister’s bedroom. When he saw Maya, his face softened. She was lying on the floor on her right side curled in a ball and still in the clothes she had on in a TV interview he watched earlier. A white dress billowing around her against the dark grey plush carpeting. She looked like a broken doll. Her eyes were open, red and swollen. His eyes connected with Jake, who was sitting on the floor, his back to the bed next to her, his arm outstretched close to her, but not touching her.
Jake rose and motioned for Caine to sit.
Caine quickly replaced Jake, but instead of sitting, he laid on his back next to her, sliding a hand out to touch her. She gripped his hand tightly.
Caine blinked in surprise at the strength in her grip, given the position she was in. They lay that way for a while in silence.
“How are you doing Maya?” Dr. Flemmings asked from her seated position in the doorway.
“You’re a long way from home,” Maya observed. “I’m not having a psychotic break, you know. I... hurt.”
“No. I can see you haven’t left us Maya,” Dr. Flemmings started. “But you do need someone to talk to and you need to keep taking good care of yourself. When was the last time you went to the bathroom?”
Maya shrugged. “It’s too heavy. I can barely move.”
“What’s heavy?” Dr. Flemmings coaxed.
“Grief.”
“It is.” The doctor nodded. “It has hit you like a Mac truck,” Dr. Flemmings said knowingly. “Can I help you get to the bathroom?”
Maya shook her no. She couldn’t move.
“I’ll take you,” Caine said and rolled quickly to his side, helping Maya.
“No.”
“You need me. I’m here. Shut up.”
Maya didn’t have it in her to fight anymore. She let her brother help her to the bathroom. He unzipped her dress the rest of the way, helped her out of it, then turned his back while she did her business. She managed to stand and walk to the sink, but her arms were too heavy to do anything else. Caine turned on the taps and washed her hands in his like he had done hundreds of times with his daughters.
He grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in the warm water, dabbing her face. The amount of makeup left behind on it and the raccoon-like marks around her eyes made him look around until he found a bottle marked “cleanser.” He squeezed too much on the cloth and began massaging it into her face.
“Close your eyes,” he ordered softly.
He washed all the shit off her eyelids, rinsed the rag, and started wiping the soap off. It took several attempts, and he wondered if he was doing it wrong, but she didn’t say a word. It killed him to see her like this, so small and sad. Maya was energy personified and to see her stripped of it hurt and made him so damn angry.
He grabbed her pajamas off the hook behind the door and helped her slip them on. She moved like she was underwater. Slow, heavy, plodding. He flinched when a hot tear landed on his arm and he pulled her in for a hug, holding her tight as her tears soaked his shirt. How long they stayed that way, he couldn’t tell, but when her weight sagged against him more, he walked, half-carrying her to the bed, where he helped her in and tried to pull the quilt over her.
“God no,” she whimpered as she struggled against the blanket restlessly. “I’m suffocating.” She pushed the covers off, closed her eyes, and rolled back into that protective ball. After she settled, Caine, sitting on the side of the bed, dropped his head in his hands.
Movement at the door caught his attention, and when he looked over, a red mist clouded his vision. Caine moved so swiftly Dr. Flemmings barely had time to react as he charged Mike, forcing the man out of the room and back to the living area where Jake, Mace, Xavier, and a few men from security quickly separated them before they came to blows again.
44
Hear My Prayer
MIKE
“Get the hell out,” Caine growled.
“She is my life,” Mike said fiercely, standing completely still in the face of Caine’s fury, while radiating his own big, dangerous energy.
“She hasn’t heard from you for a fucking week, you son of a bitch.” Caine leaned in, growling.
“We got him.”
“You-—What?” Caine’s head jerked and as he reared back on his heels, the room stilled.
Mike glanced at the men hired for security and clearly communicated they were not needed. As the room cleared out, Dr. Flemmings closed the door to Maya’s bedroom. When just the inner circle remained, Mike ran his hands through his wild mass of hair, green eyes itching and tired. His face was covered in a week’s worth of beard and his colossal body was weighed down after seven days of non-stop work, intense pressure, and travel.
“I could lose my job and, more importantly, fuck this case, by tellin’ this…” Mike chewed his toothpick roughly and narrowed his eyes on Caine. “But today the Feds executed a raid on a social club in Columbus that catered to the rich and dealt in the sex trade. The last couple of months, Levy staged a silent hostile takeover and expanded its reach, recruiting and trafficking women and children from around the country, particularly the West Coast. One of those West Coast routes came through Rough Ridge. Levy was offering big money for quick shipments, which is why, when I interrupted that supply line, the retribution was so intense. Most pimps and recruiters would cut their losses and set-up a new route, but with so much money in the game, they made a play to take me out to keep the pipeline open. Our work in Colorado cost them about three mil on the front end and untold millions with us choking off that route.
“Levy was smart at first, not putting his name or face on anything. And he marketed the same way his family did with their legit brands to build his stable. But he’s impatient and cocky, which makes him stupid. Instead of slowly gaining territory, earning and displaying respect, he pushed his way in, trying to squeeze out old heads who have been in the game. He didn’t show proper respect, and when he started putting other traffickers out of business, he made big enemies. It didn’t take long before the feds had more than enough people willing to get on the inside to shut him down. He was here, in L.A. the day of Maya’s conference. He contacted people here as well. We got them too.”
“And your work?” Dr. Flemmings asked, looking at Caine.
Mike sighed and scratched his beard with both hands. “It tied him to three direct West Coast pipelines. He’s facing federal and local counts for various crimes...money laundering, human trafficking, use of interstate facilities to transmit information about a minor, and if that wasn’t enough, they got him on RICO violations. Tomorrow, the District Attorney for Franklin County, along with the FBI, are announcing the charges. He’s going away for a long time.”
“And Maya won’t have to testify,” Caine said, more as a statement than a question.
“The case she has against him is too risky, according to the D.A., especially with the evidence compromised by CPD. The trafficking case has much more evidence. There is still a chance she could be called as a witness, but that’s a long shot. We’ve got victims, records... she should be okay.”
Caine blew out a mouth full of air, placing his hands on his knees bending at the waist. Thomas clapped him on the back gently. After a moment, Caine rose to his full, impressive height and walked to Mike, his hand outstretched.
Mike grasped Caine’s hand without hesitation and found himself being dragged roughly into a tight, one-armed bro hug.
“Thank you,” Caine rumbled, his voice low and thick.
Stepping back out of the embrace, Mike looked Caine in the eye. “I would do anything for her.”
“I see that now.”
“About time.”
The two men assessed each other for a long, uncomfortable moment.
“I think you both have an understanding,” Thomas said from behind them, sounding both amused and impatient.
“Did you get through to IA?” Jake asked.
“Internal Affairs at the New Albany Police Department are working with Columbus’ IA and three officers have been relieved of duty connected with improper conduct with the Levy family, Griffin Levy in particular. The union is looking like they will go to bat for them so it’s a wait and see now.” Mike growled low, shaking his head. “There is one problem: Foster Hitchins is in the wind. He skipped out right after we clocked them all meeting the L.A. contact, but with Levy going down, it’s only a matter of time before he’s tracked down.”
“Shit. That isn’t good,” Mace said. “He’s ex-military. He could be on the run for a long time.”
“I’m wondering if Levy got shot of him,” Jake said.
“Right now, he isn’t talking so I don’t know,” Mike said, doing the full beard, two hand scratch in frustration. “I’d just landed here when I got Flem’s call.”
The room turned to the good doctor.
Dr. Flemmings stepped away from Maya’s door.
“The three of you - Mike, Caine, and Thomas - can either help Maya get through this or damage her for a long time. Mike, she has abandonment issues brought to the surface by your ghosting. She’s feeling the weight of her mother’s death after avoiding it for years. She’s dealing with grief, guilt, and a lot more.”1
“What does she have to feel guilty about?” Thomas asked.
“I was glad she died. I was tired of seeing her suffer and tired of taking care of her. What kind of daughter does that make me?” Maya said softly from the bedroom door.
Everyone turned to her in surprise. She leaned heavily on the doorjamb and slowly slid down to the floor. Alarmed, Mike rushed to her. She opened her eyes wider and fiercely said, “Don’t come near me. Seven days you didn’t, don’t come now.”
“Baby, I couldn’t—” Mike started.
“You could. You could have texted. Or left a message. You’ve done it before, and anything would have been better than being made to feel like I was being punished or worse, like you didn’t...”
Love me anymore.
She couldn’t say it. They again had an audience, and she didn’t have the strength in her to form the words. He heard them anyway.
Mike’s head dropped. “I should have,” he admitted. “I thought you were okay...that you didn’t need...me.”
“Then you don’t know how much I love you.”
Mike’s chest burned, and he lifted his eyes to hers.
When the silence stretched, Thomas caught Caine’s eye and began moving toward the door of the suite to give them privacy, with everyone following suit, but Dr. Flemmings placed her hand on Thomas’s arm and called over to Caine, “Stay.”
Mike kept his eyes on Maya. Caine and Thomas stayed and stared awkwardly at Dr. Flemmings.
When the door closed behind Xavier, Jake, and Mace, Dr. Flemmings addressed the room. “Maya is stubborn,” Dr. Flemmings started.
Maya’s eyes snapped over to the doctor and narrowed.
“It’s protection. She stubbornly ran from her feelings about her mother’s death for years and now the combination of her abuse trauma, the discovery of Caine and Thomas, her intense relationship with Mike, the stress of defending her professional choices has broken her protection to shit.”
“I can hear you,” Maya said, irritated, her voice stronger than she felt.
“You miss your mom,” Dr. Flemmings continued like Maya hadn’t said a word, “especially now that you are to be a mother yourself. You worry about your natural reaction to your mother’s death and you’re intensely worried about losing each of these gentlemen. Now’s the time to examine that with each other.”
And with that, Dr. Flemmings sat, whipped a notebook out of her purse, and helped herself to the bowl of M&M’s sitting on the coffee table in front of her.
Caine and Thomas looked at the doctor, then at each other as if to say, “Is she serious?”
MIKE
“I was glad Rose Marie died.”
After a half-hour of silence, Mike couldn’t stand it anymore. Between Dr. Flemmings chomping on M&M’s and unanswered prompts, the Walters men’s’ restless shifting, and the endless leak of tears from Maya, he thought he would go crazy. He broke the ice like Maya would, with the uncoated truth.
Maya speared Mike with a penetrating glare.
“Don’t lie.”
He spoke haltingly, his mouth working thoughtfully on the toothpick in his mouth. “Maybe it wasn’t gladness so much as relief that she wasn’t in pain anymore, and that the waiting…”
“Was over,” Maya whispered.
He nodded slowly and looked over Maya’s head at nothing.
“When they last longer than expected, you hope,” Mike said, stepping closer. He was relieved that Maya didn’t protest his approach.
Maya snorted. “The hope is the worst.”
Mike sat on the floor near Maya against the wall. Close enough to smell her scent, but not to touch her. It messed with his mind to be even that far away from her.
“You feel like a monster if you don’t and a fool if you do,” Mike stated roughly.
“Until you don’t have to anymore,” Thomas said, watching Maya with kind eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with feeling that way, baby girl.”
“She deserved better than that,” Maya said, the tears coming in a faster rush.
“She deserved to have the girl she raised take the good that comes to her with both hands, and leave the bad behind,” Caine said, grabbing a chair that belonged to the desk in the room and easing himself down onto it in a straddle, his hands resting on the backrest.
“You were a kid, Maya. A smart and mature one, but a kid. It was too much to deal with and you shouldn’t have had to,” Thomas said. “You had to grow up too fast. It’s okay to,”—he cast his eyes around to think of the words — “... mourn what you lost. And mourn Elise too. I have for over thirty years.”
Maya’s brow furrowed, and she rubbed her belly. Caine stole a glance at his father, appearing to see him in a new light.
At that thought, a giant yawn overcame her. Huge. Mike could tell the baby was zapping all her energy, and whatever she had left, the emotional rollercoaster sucked out of her. She rolled over to her knees, pulled herself up, and walked to the bed, snoring before her head hit the pillows.
“She’s out,” Mike said quietly to the room as he looked in on her.
“We should go,” Thomas said, standing.
When Mike came close enough, Thomas grabbed him by the back of his neck, bringing his head close. Speaking roughly, his voice was thick with emotion. “Thank you. I’m proud of you, boy.”
“Sir?” Mike said, trying not to feel intensely uncomfortable at the intimacy of the gesture.
“It’s Irv, kid. You two work this out? I’m happy to have you in the family. You don’t, you still have a place. I can’t guarantee she won’t try to shoot you over the Thanksgiving table, but you’re welcome, hear?”
Mike nodded the best he could with his neck in Thomas’s death grip. Shit, he was strong. Mike realized he and Maya were going to have giant, healthy kids–at least the boys. Maya and his kids. Mike grinned a bit for the first time in a week. Well, there was the moment he watched Levy enter lock-up. Thomas spoke again, pulling Mike out of his thoughts.
“Me and Caine will sleep across the hall. The doc’s next to us,” Thomas said with a yawn and a deep stretch of his long body. He rubbed his hand over his face.
Mike watched them leave and found himself in an odd position. His place was next to Maya in bed, but things were... unsettled. He didn’t want to strain things any more than they already were by crawling into bed with her. But it was all his mind and body craved. Not sleep or food, just her sweet softness pressed against his body. He ached to kiss that spot on her shoulder before burying his nose in her hair and drifting off to sleep. Yet he knew instinctively she wouldn’t appreciate him taking that liberty.
God, how had they gotten here? And the better question was how were they going to get back - no - get to someplace better?
He’d struggled, but succeeded in pushing thoughts of Maya and what happened to the back of his mind while, off the record, he worked the case against Levy. Now that several pieces of shit were behind bars, his mind was free to brood.
He let out a frustrated growl and washed off the cross-country travel in a hot shower. Later, smelling like cocoa butter and vanilla from Maya’s shit in the shower, he climbed into the bed next to her, staying on top of the sheets. She was sleeping like she had all those weeks ago in the hospital - on her side, her hands tucked under her cheek. Her face was puffy from crying and her hair was still partially bound in one of those updos women tortured themselves with.
He reached over and started pulling out hairpins. At seven, he got indignant. At twelve, he was upset; her head had to be killing her. Running his hands through her twists, he made sure he got them all and then absentmindedly began rubbing her scalp. She let out a soft little sigh, followed by that jagged inhale that always comes after a heavy crying jag. It almost broke him.
