- Home
- Suzanne Halliday
Redeeming Justice Page 33
Redeeming Justice Read online
Page 33
Meggie,
Daddy called and asked me to meet him at the station. After, we’ll grab dinner. Heat up some leftovers if you’re hungry
Ma
Finding herself alone wasn’t such a bad thing. The shopping spree had really wiped her out, physically and emotionally. She hadn’t been taking care of herself, not by a long shot, and she knew that pulling it together was a necessity.
Still, it was a bit odd – the note her mother left. She knew Maggie had a particular dislike of the station house where her father worked. Hardly a pleasant, happy environment, going there always reminded Ma of the bad people and unspeakable crimes that made up her dad’s work-world. Those reminders made her anxious and worried – something the entire family tried to avoid like the plague. Nothing upset everyone’s apple cart quicker than an overwrought mother.
And so she forced herself to eat something healthy instead of the ice cream and gallons of coffee that had been keeping her going for the past few weeks. She then curled up on the sofa and mindlessly watched some television. When nothing held her attention, she settled on QVC, eventually becoming engrossed with being In the Kitchen with David and ordering a bunch of cool things she thought would please her mother.
Hours later when she was almost dozing under a soft throw blanket with the remote control still clutched in her hand, she heard her parents come home. Sitting up, Meghan stretched and worked out some couch potato kinks just as they walked through the door.
“Hey, you two,” she called out. “Have a nice dinner?”
“Prime Rib Friday at Baxter’s,” her mother replied drily without looking in Meghan’s direction.
To say she was surprised by her normally talkative mother’s seeming dismissal when she immediately headed for the stairway to the second floor bedrooms was an understatement. What the hell was that all about?
“Off to bed,” Maggie called out, flying up the steps like a bat out of hell.
Meghan frowned as she took in her mother’s unusual behavior. It was so unlike her. When she found her father staring at her pensively she flinched, surprised.
“Okay, Da,” she griped. “What’s up? And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Is everything alright at the station?”
“Everything’s fine, Meggie,” he told her with a half smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She sat silently and watched while he wandered here and there around the den as he put on a good show of straightening up a room that didn’t have a single thing out of place. Eventually he stopped the charade and turned to face her with a deep expression of love for his only daughter that warmed her heart.
“Any plans for the weekend?” he asked.
Okay, now she really was starting to freak out. The way he asked the question made her wonder what was going on in his head when she heard a slight hesitation in his voice. She couldn’t imagine why, but it made her feel like she was being set up for an intervention.
“Yeah, actually,” she answered pithily. “Was thinking about getting season tickets for the Yankees,” she muttered knowing full well that her dad was a die-hard Red Sox fan.
“Mmm, sounds good,” he replied.
What the hell was going on? When Patrick O’Brien didn’t so much as react a whit to her statement she knew he was a thousand miles away.
“Um, I think I’ll join your ma. It’s been a long day. You good, daughter?”
“Yep, Dad. I’m good. See ya in the morning.”
And just like that her anxiety level skyrocketed and a ball of worry settled in the pit of her stomach. Something was definitely up but she couldn’t begin to imagine what.
Meghan awoke after yet another restless night, courtesy of the odd behavior her parents displayed the night before. Feeling like she was trapped in a stress bubble that simply would not pop, she lingered in the shower almost draining the water heater in an effort to quiet her troubled emotions.
Having a cop for a father and surrounded as she was by her firefighter and EMT siblings, she couldn’t help but worry that she was missing something or that some sort of serious situation was being kept from her.
“Damn alphas,” she muttered to the silence in her bedroom. The very last thing she needed were more reminders of a certain domineering and powerful man who still had not surfaced even though Tori insisted he would.
Checking her phone yet again, hoping to see that he’d called or left a message, she was disappointed to see that Alex was still maintaining radio silence. According to the information her friend had shared, his business in Washington had wrapped up – so now the waiting game was in full swing. In all honesty, she wanted quite badly to call him and throw herself at his feet. It didn’t even matter anymore about his guilt or his issues or anything for that matter. She’d take him in all his fucked up glory if it meant being back by his side.
Not bothering to properly dry her hair, Meghan gathered her unruly curls into a messy tangle and secured it with a clip before pulling on a long sleeved tee that had seen better days and a pair of sloppy sweats with the logo of her old school on one hip. Both garments hung off her frame, a stark reminder of the weight she’d lost and her less than robust appearance.
What-fucking-ever. She didn’t care. The sad truth was, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to care about much of anything ever again. Missing Alex had become a full-time job. One that was eating her alive from the inside out.
“Meggie. Can you come down here a moment?” she heard her mother holler from the first floor.
“I’ll be right there, Ma. Just give me a minute,” she answered back hastily. “Will you put the coffee pot on?”
“Not a problem,” came the answer that seemed a bit more chipper and happy than the way her mother had seemed last night.
Well, thank God for that, she thought. With her own emotions in turmoil, Meghan didn’t think she could handle anyone else’s problems right now.
Drae felt a bit like a hostage negotiator as he slid from the cab and stood on the sidewalk outside the O’Brien brownstone. Adjusting his tie and tugging on the cuffs of the tailored dress shirt he wore with his Savile Row suit, he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts. With Victoria anxiously texting him every five minutes and Alex acting like he was about to walk the green mile, he felt the weight of everyone’s future bearing down on him. As Cam’s last minute back slap and gravely muttered, “Don’t fuck up,” played over and over in his head, he climbed the short flight of steps and silently prayed for strength.
He knocked and when Maggie O’Brien opened the door, smilingly sweetly and asked, “May I help you?” Drae recalled Alex’s words the previous night describing the comely woman as a shark in sheep’s clothing.
At first glance he could see where Meghan inherited her beauty. For a woman in her mid-fifties she was extraordinarily attractive with a bombshell figure reminiscent of a 1950’s Hollywood star, dark auburn hair showing not a bit of gray, a pleasing smile, and the same intense green eyes her daughter shared, she was quite the sight. Irish through and through, she reminded him of a young Maureen O’Hara – which was by no means a bad thing. Jesus. If the woman before him was any indication of how Meghan would look in thirty years, Alex was one lucky bastard.
Extending his hand he turned on the St. John charm – something his wife reassured him was sure to get results – and smiled back.
“Mrs. O’Brien? My name is Draegyn St. John. I’m a friend of Meghan’s from Arizona.” He thought it best to set out the facts from the start so she wouldn’t have to cross-examine him. “Is she here?”
The minute his name hit her awareness, the smile changed from brilliant and welcoming to conspiratorial and mischievous.
“Well, it took you long enough,” she remarked with a wry grin as she took his hand and pulled him into the house.
Only his years of surveillance training kept the relief that swept through him from showing on his face. Getting through the inevitable conversation he was about to h
ave with Meghan was one thing. Handling the mother who had threatened Alex with bodily harm was another.
As she lead him into what at one time was probably considered the front parlor, she remarked, “Why didn’t he come himself?”
Keeping to his charm offensive he smile and winked. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet, Mrs. O’Brien. I’m here to lay the groundwork so your daughter hopefully won’t rip a certain someone’s face off before he has a chance to plead his case. If I recall, she had a certain ball busting way about her.”
Maggie O’Brien snorted in a not amused at all kind of way. “Yes, well that may have been true before but your Major has done quite the number on her Mr. St. John. You may be surprised by what you find.”
Oh, snap. Score one for the grizzly bear Mama protecting her own. She stepped back into the foyer and yelled, “Meggie. Can you come down her a moment?”
When Meghan answered, “I’ll be right there, Ma. Just give me a minute. Will you put the coffee pot on?” Drae straightened and thought, Showtime.
It took two or three minutes until he detected the sound of someone moving about in the hallway upstairs as all the while those knowing green eyes coolly assessed his every breath and movement. Damn. This lady was good.
When he finally heard footsteps descending the stairs, Drae found that he was holding his breath. Didn’t help that the phone he switched to silent chose that moment to vibrate. There was not a doubt in his mind that it was his spunky wife trolling for an update.
Just as Meghan’s feet hit the last step her mother announced, “You’ve got a visitor, mo stoirín.” When she moved aside so her daughter could find him with her searching eyes, Drae almost fell over in shock at what he saw.
Fuck. Her mother hadn’t been kidding. No words could do justice to the shock that raced through him at Meghan’s appearance. In a word, she looked like shit. Being used to seeing her vibrant, full of life, and always perfectly dressed, it was startling to say the least to find her barefoot, looking like a homeless person in clothing that seemed several sizes too big, hair a holy mess, and dark smudges under her normally bright eyes.
“Meghan,” he choked out, forgetting to hide his reaction from his voice.
The expression on her face went from curious to gut-wrenching surprise in a nanosecond. Part of him wanted to fucking kill Alex for putting that look in her eyes.
“Draegyn,” she whimpered a split second before she burst into tears and crumbled to her butt on the last step as painful sobs filled the air.
“Holy Jesus,” Drae mumbled as he hurried to her side. “Don’t cry honey. Your tears are gonna kill me.”
Pulling her to her feet, he wrapped her in a solid embrace as she melted in his arms crying wretchedly. From the corner of his eye he saw her mother wipe away her own tears before she quietly left them alone.
What else could he do except stand there and let her cry it out? The upset he felt at her reaction to finding him in her parlor tore at his emotions. Remembering the way Alex had cold cocked him with a hearty punch to the jaw after Victoria had left him when he’d acted like an insufferable dick early in their relationship, he felt the same impulse come over him. When he got the chance, he just might repay the action with a jab of his own.
The woman shaking uncontrollably in his arms leaned away and looked at him for a second, then threw herself back into his hug, wailing, “I…I never thought I’d see you again.”
Yep. He was going to smack the fucking shit out of Alex. If he didn’t, Victoria would once he told her about Meghan’s emotional breakdown.
Steering her into the parlor, her feet stumbling every step of the way, he tried to calm her down. “Please don’t cry anymore, honey. It’s not good for you.”
Getting her settled on a loveseat, he grabbed a box of tissues from a table and helped dry the tears rolling down cheeks that had sunken in – a sad reminder of how much she’d suffered in the weeks since Alex had sent her packing.
As the emotional storm calmed, she grabbed onto his hand and wouldn’t let go. Taking a seat beside her, Drae reached deep inside and brought his reeling emotions under control. Seeing her so distraught made him physically sick as only a man who’d come perilously close to losing the love of his own life could. When he was finished here he was going to call Victoria, profess his undying love over and over, and send her the biggest, most outrageous floral arrangement he could find. Just because.
“Sorry,” she murmured with a sobbed hiccup. “I haven’t been well and seeing you was a shock.”
“No need to explain Meghan,” he muttered tersely as thoughts of pounding Big Daddy into the dust flashed in his mind’s eye. Fucking asshole.
“Is he okay?” she asked in a voice way too small for the vivacious woman he knew her to be.
Drae could only shake his head in wonder. Go figure, he mused. Here she was, a shadow of her former self and all she could think of was Alex. He sighed and squeezed her hand.
“He’s fine although seeing you like this makes me want to do his ass some serious harm.”
“It’s not his fault,” she quickly tried to reassure him. “He can’t help how he feels.” Her voice faded to a whisper on her words.
Clenching his jaw, Drae kept his immediate disagreement with what she said to himself. She must love him very much to be so accepting of Alex’s emotional failings.
“We need to talk Meghan. You up for what I have to say, honey?”
She nodded as she bit her lip, releasing his hand and sitting back. “You sound so serious Draegyn. Do I want to hear this?” she asked with a frightened little wobble in her delivery.
“Probably not. But it needs to be said and you need to hear it.”
“Okay.”
Fuck, man. If she bit her lip any harder she was gonna draw blood.
“First of all, he wants to see you and yes, he knows I’m here. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t dream of interfering in either of my brothers’ lives but before you and Alex come face to face again, there’s something I want to say.”
“Tori told me that he…” she said before self-censoring the rest of her response and lowering her eyes so he couldn’t guess at the rest of her answer.
Drae chuckled and nudged her with his shoulder. “It’s alright Irish,“ he said using the affectionate nickname for her that his wife favored. “I’m well-aware of my wife’s meddling ways.”
Meghan blushed and attempted a shaky smile. “I’d have been lost without her all these weeks, Draegyn. Truly. Don’t be upset with her.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” he barked out laughing. “I’m in no way upset with her, honey. In fact I’m glad, and so is Alex, that she kept the lines of communication open.” Shaking his head he added, “You women know how to stick together.”
“So do you Justice men,” she reminded him somberly.
“Point well taken. Which brings me to the purpose of this visit.”
He let some silence wrap around them for a moment – each of them reluctant for what came next. Clearing his throat, he leaned over and impulsively kissed her on the forehead. When she searched his eyes to explain his unexpected action he tried to smile reassuringly.
“Here it is Meghan. In all it’s fucked up glory, I need to tell you a little bit about the real Alex Marquez. Without a second’s hesitation you should know that in my estimation a more honorable man has never existed. His sense of integrity and the things that ground his morals make him a man amongst men. Understand?”
Her lip quivered but she held it together and nodded at him to go on.
“When we all met him, and Cam and I – we instantly bonded. Even though we each came from distinctively different backgrounds, it was as if for each of us we could see the best in the others. Cam and I with our fucked-up families, and Alex with his picture-perfect childhood may seem like an unlikely trio but when shit gets real, I wouldn’t want anyone else by my side. In the beginning we shared a boots on the ground existence. Shit kicking boots at that, the
kind we were trained for. Together we dealt with ambushes, undercover assignments, body counts, getting shot at, and an epic crap ton of shit that only happens in war. None of it was pretty. All of it was fucked up. Alex came to the attention of those in power due to his insane tech background and natural leadership abilities. People respected him and counted on his calm under fire. We were all slogging through our third deployment when a maneuver near Kandahar went terribly wrong. After the team leader was wounded it was Alex who stepped up and finished what had been started. Got all of us to safety while also completing the mission. Fuck it if the goddamn brass didn’t immediately promote his ass. That’s how he eventually becomes a commanding officer. Believe me, he hated the promotion, hated what it meant. He’d have gladly stayed in our team, putting his life on the line in some deadly situations but that’s not how shit works in the military.”
Drae heard the angry emotion in his voice and dialed it back a bit. No use in scaring the shit out of her. What’s done is done where that fucking war was concerned. It was his job to just tell the story and try not to rage out while doing so.
“Every minute of every day that he was in command literally chipped away at his soul. He felt every tragedy, mourned each lost life, and regretted the civilian reactions and the inevitable collateral damage. It wasn’t a good time. Not for a man with Alex’s moral code. But war and the drive to survive have a way of overriding all those virtuous principles. Not even Cam and me, as close as we were to the Major, knew most of the horror and shit he dealt with. When the suicide bombing happened, the one that took your fiancé’s life and almost blew Alex to bits, everything changed in a heartbeat. He actually believed that had he known in advance what the enemy was up to that he could have prevented what happened. Losing control of the perimeter and being attacked from within was a cross he felt was his and his alone to bear. It’s bullshit, of course, but that’s Alex at his core.”