Second Chances (30 page)

The constant drone of the machines beeping and whirring had lulled Mason into a dark and fitful sleep. Sitting on the rigid edge of the only chair in the room, his upper body slumped over the edge of Claira’s bed
, her warm fingers twitched against his palm. At first he’d thought he’d dreamed it. His eyes, nearly glued shut from the crusty mess only a mixture of tears and lack of sleep can cause, peeled open in a flash. He held his breath in a motionless trance, waiting to feel the minute movement again. Praying silently that it wasn’t a dream.

Another twitch, followed by
a wispy moan jerked Mason into the realm of the conscious. The numbness in his legs and feet had him scrambling for purchase when he stood. He ignored the pain as the sudden rapid beat of his heart pumped a rush of blood through the veins in his legs. With a touch as soft as a feather, he caressed her pale cheek and brushed his lips against the side of her jaw. In only a whisper he repeated the request that had been his silent plea to her for the last two days.  “Hey, Sweetheart. Please wake up for me.”

A small, shiny dot appeared in the middle of the most complete darkness Claira had ever known. It was as if the sky had turned to black and the sun had shrunk to the size of a distant star. When she tried to focus on the dim light a spike of pain pierced her skull. A haze of reds and oranges floated in her peripheral vision and set her chest on fire. She heard a faint groan in the distance but it was getting closer as the light grew brighter and her chest burned hotter. Then suddenly she was falling. She grasped frantically at the dark nothingness that was swallowing her whole but found only more darkness and pain. She heard voices and shouts and piercing sirens of noise but then suddenly it all stopped. She saw and felt nothing. A warm numbness enveloped her completely. She welcomed the darkness as she faded away into its depths.

Mason scrambled toward Claira’s bed as the nurses pushed him back. “What’s wrong with her?” he shouted over the din of
her screams and alarms and doctors shouting orders. Claira’s body was convulsing wildly. She grasped blindly at anything within reach as she screamed incoherently. One of the nurses pushed him farther toward the door but he slumped against the wall in a boneless heap as soon as whatever medicine they’d injected into her IV took over and she relaxed calmly back into her bed.

“This is expected, Mr. McLendon.” The attending physician extended his hand and a sympathetic look
as he helped him to his feet. Mason had long ago given up trying to remember any of the nurses or doctors names. He thought this one was something like Swanson, or Swinson. “She’s coming around, slowly, but with all her mind and body has had to deal with things can be a bit….confusing for her. This is a good sign, trust me. She’s fighting to get back.”

Mason’s entire body shook as he nodded at the doctor and glanced over at Claira’s now sleeping form. “So…” He swallowed against the dryness in h
is throat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “So this means she
is
going to wake up? She’s going to be ok?”

The doctor withdrew his hand and turned to look back at Claira. “I can’t make that promise, Mr. McLendon. But I
can
say that she seems to be a fighter. The swelling went down quickly and she’s responding to more stimuli each day. There’s only so much we can do. She has to do the rest.” Mason nodded but couldn’t say anything through the lump in his throat.

“It’s only been a couple of days. Give it time.” The doctor smiled at him then motioned for him to walk ahead of him, out of Claira’s room and away from Claira. Mason glanced back over his shoulder at her frail form. He didn’t want to leave
her.

“Go for a walk, Mason.” The doctor said as he closed her door behind them. “Let one of your
brother’s take a shift. If you don’t mind me saying so, at the risk of losing my head, you look like shit. You’re no good to her or your family like this.”

Mason shook his head and started to argue but the doctor held up his hand and blocked his attempt to go back to her room. “
That really wasn’t a request, Mason. It’s not good for you or her.”

Two days follo
wing the nightmare episode Mason had witnessed, Grey sat slouched in the chair next to Claira’s bed, fingering the ring they’d bought her the night before. Being able to focus on something besides the wreck their lives had become had given him back a little strength. But, buying that ring on faith that she’d be ok, and would accept their proposal, had set him back a bit in confidence. Different scenarios played in his mind and so many of them didn’t have a positive ending.
How could she still want us after this?

Claira
had several more episodes like the one she’d had with Mason. Now she rested comfortably, mumbling words and phrases that made no sense but gave him more hope than he’d had yesterday. He sat listening to waves of silence intermingled with quiet mumbling, her voice like a lullaby rocking him to sleep. He was so immersed in the sounds that he didn’t answer when she first whispered his name.

“Grey?”

Grey’s eyes popped open and goose flesh washed over his skin.

“Grey?” Claira whispered again and he turned to see her big doe eyes staring back at him.

“Claira?”
Oh thank you God!
“I’m right here, baby bird.” Grey rushed to her side and cradled her delicate face in his hands. “You remember me!” He said in an excited whisper. “You’re really awake and you’re going to be ok. And you remember me!”

“Of course I remember you.” Claira half smiled but then closed her eyes against a wave of nausea. “
Ugh, where am I?” Her mouth was as dry as a desert and throat burned.

“You’re in the hospital, baby. Let me get the nurses and I’ll be right back.” Grey didn’t want to leave her but he had to get someone
there to make sure she was ok.

Hospital?
What was she doing in the hospital? “Wait, Grey?” She tried to sit up but something skewered her to the bed like a white-hot poker through her chest. “Ow!” She looked down at the bandages over her chest that extended to her shoulder and adrenaline rushed through her veins as the memories flooded back. “Grey!”

Grey nearly jumped out
of his skin when he heard a fear laden scream from Claira’s room. He dashed back in to see her trying to rip her IV from her arm. “Claira! Honey, don’t do that! What’s wrong?”

“Grant
! Grey, you have to get away. Grant tried to kill me and he’ll kill you, too! He’ll kill all of you!” She wrestled with the nurse and the tangles of wires and tubes as she choked on a sob.

“Claira.
Baby. Grant saved you. It was Preston Dawes that shot you.”

“Grey, he won’t stop. Lu
cian found me. He won’t stop until everyone is dead!” The nurse wrestled her arm down to the cuffed restraints and buckled it in. “Please don’t! Please let me go!” She sobbed. Grey watched in confused horror as the nurse shot something into her IV port. “Grey, please! Please believe me. Lucian doesn’t care about the babies. He’ll kill the babies! Please, just run!”

Tunnel vision took over and Grey collapsed as he watched his baby bird sink back into
the bed, quiet sobs wracking her tiny frame. He felt someone holding him up and dragging him away but couldn’t seem to stop the room from spinning.

“Grey, what is she talking about?”

Matt
. Focus on Matt’s voice
. Grey shook his head and suddenly everything came into focus as he found his footing. Pushing against Matt, Grey made for her room and ran to her bedside, but it was too late. Whatever drug they’d given her was working and her chest rose and fell in an even rhythm as she slept, trails of tears streaking her tender cheeks.

“Grey?”

Ignoring the single family member rule Matt stepped into the room and quickly pushed his way between Grey and the nurses to get a glimpse of Claira. “Grey, what was that about killing babies and Grant Kendal?”

Seething with a white-hot fury
he knew would never die until someone had paid for what they’d done to her, Grey shook his head and turned for the door. “I don’t know but I’m damn well going to get some answers.”

Seven pairs of eyes turned toward them as Grey, Matt and Mason stormed into their family room, breathless and nearly frantic. “Where are the twins?” Matt roared as Grey swept past
him and his family, not noticing the one stranger among them, and plowed into Grant Kendal with a feral growl, grasping his shirt and slamming him against the nearest wall.

“If you’ve so much as touched them I’ll kill you!” Grey spat the promise through his clenched teeth.
Panic laced fear had consumed the brothers as they raced home with the Sheriff to find Grant and get some answers.

“Let him go.” Their Uncle Cade ordered, ignoring the
Sheriff who had followed them in as he pulled Mason back before he reached for Grant himself.

Matt twisted away from the
Sheriff’s hold and clawed his way toward Grant before another set of arms wrapped around his shoulders like a vice. “It’s not what you think, son.” Jake tightened his grip and held him back.

“Not what we think?”  Grey clung to Grant’s shirt, ripping the seams as one of his
dad’s pulled him away from the sonofabitch that had shot Claira. “You fucking bastard! You shot her! Didn’t you?” When he saw the resolved look in the bastard’s eyes Grey lunged at Grant again but was no match for whatever army had him in their grasp. “I’m going to rip you’re goddamn dick off and shove it down your throat!”

“
Greyson!” Hazel screamed, tears swelling in her eyes as she ran to her son, braving his wrath and stepping in front of him, trying to reach to him. “Greyson, please. Calm down. Look at me!” She cupped his flaming cheeks in her hands and forced him to see her. “Look at me. That’s it. Breathe.” He was turning purple before her very eyes.

Grey felt the world fall out from beneath his feet as the red faded from his vision enough to see the tormented look in his mother’s eyes. She was scared, and crying.
“Mom?”

“
Yeah, honey. It’s me. The boys are fine. They’re at my cousin Hanna’s. I promise. I need you to calm down and listen to us.”

Grey blinked and shook his head. His bo
ys were fine? They were okay. She wouldn’t lie to him. He closed his eyes and opened them again, the fear and anger induced haze subsiding enough to take in his surroundings. His body felt numb as he looked past his mom to see Uncle Cade standing by Grant, their faces a matching shade of white. He felt the grip on his arms loosen a notch.

“Someone had better start explaining.” The
Sheriff’s loud voice filled the room. Grey started and twisted to see him standing next to Matt, a restraining hold on his brother’s shoulder.

Gran
t cleared his throat and began to speak but their Uncle Cade stepped up and cut him off. “We need to get these boys a drink then we’ll tell you everything.”

“
Fuck that!” Matt charged up to Grant, poking his finger into his chest. “The love of our life is lying in a goddamn hospital scared out of her mind and convinced you’re the one that shot her! You’d better have a damn good explanation for that and you’d better tell us right-fucking-now!”

“The woman you know as Claira Robbin
s isn’t who you think she is.”

All three McLendon bro
thers turned to face the icy voice that echoed behind them. A tall, middle aged man with a salt and pepper flat-top stepped from behind the long sectional sofa that filled the far end of the family room. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Daniel Gregory. Well, I’m retired now, officially.”

“What?” Matt and Grey asked in unison. Grey looked to their dad’s for an explanation. “What’s he doing here and what
hell is he talking about?”

“Grant wasn’t trying to kill Gab….Claira.” Cade offered.

“What the hell?” Mason looked from the Marshal to Grant Kendal, then took in their Uncle Cade’s stance next to the man Claira thought had tried to kill her. “You know about this.” It wasn’t a question.
He knew
!

Cade’s head fell forward
. Clapping his hand to the back of his neck he nodded. Letting out a long, slow breath he looked to his sister, Hazel, with pleading eyes. “They may need that drink now.”
I know I do
.

An hour later, Grey paced the floor in their family room after knocking back his third glass of whisky. “Let me get this straight.” He turne
d to their Uncle Cade barely containing the rage that clawed at his insides. “You brought a known killer’s daughter into our lives as…as some kind of…of sick
matchmaking
game
and then had
another
killer stalk her as some kind of bait to catch a mobster that put out a hit on her?” He couldn’t believe what he was saying; what he was hearing. He turned to his dad’s in disbelief. “And you helped him? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us, to our boys? What kind of danger you’ve put them in? They were shot at for christsake! Are you insane?”

“Dawes didn’t have anything to do with this,” Grant spoke up, trying to keep some form of clarity in the screwed up mess they’d created.