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I take a deep breath. There is no delicate way to say this, so I just get it said. “Stiles saw a gunman and shouted for us to get down. In my urgency, I pushed you to the ground harder than I thought. With my body over yours, I didn’t realize you’d been hurt until the gunfire ceased and I was able to check on you.”
“What are you saying?” Dee stares at me, her eyes wide, her hand trembling in mine. “That someone shot at us?”
“Yes.” I squeeze her cold palm. “It was Malcolm.”
“No,” she utters in disbelief.
“I’m sorry, baby. I know it’s a lot to process.”
“Oh my God.” Her eyes well up. “You were right that he wasn’t goingto bow out just like that. I could have lost you.”
“Ssh.” I move to sit on the side of the bed and carefully pull her to me. “You didn’t. I’m right here. Safe. You’re safe. Malcolm is in police custody at St. Joseph’s. Stiles shot him.”
“Is Stiles okay?” Dee shivers against me, despite the sun warming the room.
“He got hit in the shoulder. But he’s doing fine and should be home in a couple of days.”
“He saved us.”
“Yes.”
“And you saved me.” She looks up with tears clinging to her lashes.
“I knocked you out.”
“A cut on the head is nothing. You saved my life, Mick.”
“Your life wouldn’t have been in danger if—” I stop abruptly.
“If what?”
If not for me. Only a week ago, I might have believed that. But it’s not true. I didn’t cause this. “If not for Malcolm.”
“I’m so sorry.” She hugs me as best she can. “What he did was beyond horrible. But you are not to blame.”
“I know.”
“You mean that?”
“Yeah.” I set Dee back against the pillows but remain on the edge of the bed, facing her. I want to be the best husband and father I can be. Here and present, not battling my past. “Malcolm is fucked-up and evil. That’s just who he is, but that’s not on me.”
“I’m so happy to hear you say that.” Her golden eyes liquefy with love.
“I can say that because of you. Because of all you’ve given me.”
“I didn’t give you anything but the truth.”
“I’m finally coming to accept that. Not just in here,” I touch a finger to my temple. “But in here too.” I tap my chest. “They aren’t just words that I know I need to say to convince myself. I believe them.” I link our fingers again and continue. “Malcolm’s condition is critical. He may not make it.”
“How do you feel about that?” she asks, softly searching my face.
“I thought about killing him myself.”
“I would imagine you did. But that’s a fantasy. It’s okay to feel something, Mick. He’s still your father.”
“Not in any way that matters. I’ve wasted enough energy on him. If he dies, he dies. And if he doesn’t, he’ll go away for a long time. Either outcome is going to be a shit show in the press. I can’t promise the nextseveral weeks or months will be easy.”
“We don’t do easy.” A heartening smile tugs at her lips.
