Switch yelled and screamed as three pairs of heavy-duty boots pounded him into the cold linoleum floor. Michaels enjoyed the sound for a few more moments before he ordered his team to stop. He reached for Ruxs’ arm. “Don’t let the fucker cost us our badges.”
The three of them stepped away, their faces masks of unadulterated wrath. Green and Ruxs came over to help him to the couch while Ro dragged and half-threw Switch towards the door. The man looked just like Michaels felt.
“You need to go to the ER, man?” Ruxs asked, gently lowering him into the cushions.
Michaels shook his head no, while Green gathered his things. Ruxs kept persisting as he helped him hobble outside. “Michaels you look like hell, man. You could have internal injuries. Day will kick my ass if I let you bleed out in my truck, dude.”
“I’m fine. It’s just a bump on the head and some bruised ribs. We all know it looks worse than it is,” Michaels gritted out, trying to sound okay.
They all loaded into the unmarked Suburban, which thankfully had three rows of seats. Ro in the far back with Switch, his shotgun laying across his lap, his sparkling blue eyes daring Switch to make a move.
“Baby. Tell him we should go to the ER first,” Ruxs said, to Green when he climbed in the passenger seat.
Green looked back at Michaels in the second row before turning back to his partner. “He says he’s okay. God will make him go to the hospital when we get back anyway.”
What’s the point? Modern medicine can’t cure a broken heart.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Judge sat in a private family waiting room in North Florida Regional Medical Center at six in the morning waiting for the funeral home to pick up his father. Judge, Sr. had held on for seven more hours, long enough for him to get there. His dad held his and Linda’s hands through most of the afternoon until they both encouraged him through a river of tears to let go and rest peacefully. Judge held Linda for hours, neither of them able to leave the hospital. The funeral home couldn’t come until morning, so they waited until the man they’d loved was properly cared for.
Linda cried quietly on his shoulder while the hospital minister sat on her other side, holding her hand and murmuring a quiet prayer. After he finished, he gave them both a card for grief counseling provided by his church. Judge felt raw and wrung out. He hadn’t cried since Brent’s funeral, more than twenty years ago.
“So what’d you think of your father’s words, sweetheart?” Linda said, softly.
God, he didn’t want to think about his father’s quietly spoken final words right then. “Linda, please,” Judge said, roughly.
“Okay, okay. I’m not trying to upset you. I just love you so much. I want you to be happy is all. That’s what me and your father always wanted.” Linda sniffled and rubbed at her nose with some tissue. “You were so content being a loner and we gave you your space, but please Judge. Listen to your father.”
She stood and left the room, probably going to join her oldest daughter outside walking Bookem for him on the hospital grounds. Judge had his face in his hands when one of the floor nurses stuck her head in and whispered that the funeral home was there. He stood stiffly, not bothering to stretch or pop the kinks in his back. Any other pain was better than what he was feeling inside at that moment. He stood off to the side while they wheeled his father’s body down the hall. He’d be taken to the funeral home where he’d be cremated and Judge would spread his ashes on his land, as per his wishes.
Linda hugged Judge one more time. “I’ll be staying with Molly. You know she moved to Virginia Beach a couple years ago, so I think it’s best for me to be with my girls and my grandbabies to help me through this.”
Judge nodded. Not trusting his voice right now. She balanced on her tiptoes and kissed him on his scratchy cheek. “I love you so much, sweetheart. You call me as soon as you get home, and I’ll be expecting a visit soon.”
Judge wasn’t sure if the slight lift of his mouth came across as a smile or not but Linda turned and left, waving sadly as Molly pulled out the parking lot. He was alone. Really alone. The reality hit him so hard he had to sit on the bench behind him. If only… if only he hadn’t. “Fuck, Book. What did I do?” Bookem whined and laid his large head on Judge’s knee. They didn’t move until after dark.
“I thought I said you were to rest up.” God stood next to Michaels’ desk, his big arms crossed over his wide chest. As much as he wanted to ignore his Lieutenant, he knew better.