Page 126 of At Her Will

He looked toward Lawrence. “After we take care of this, I need a ride to the hospital.”

“That’s the second reason we came,” Lawrence said. “Your Mistress needs you.”

It took the expected amount of time, which meant far too long. Rev had to go to the police station. The detective handling the case had interviewed Veracity at the hospital. He questioned Rev hard, the words like nails, because Rev was hammering the questions into himself. But he gave the detective whatever he needed, holding nothing back, so he could get to his Mistress.

He'd told Lawrence he’d take a bus to the hospital, because he was sure Ros was in need of her man, too. Instead the former SEAL waited patiently until he was done and drove him. Lawrence said little, but his presence offered an unexpected reassurance to Rev.

When they arrived and went to the floor where Veracity had a room, Cyn intercepted him in the waiting area. Her expression was neutral, her voice coolly cordial. Rev recognized a guard dog when he saw one.

“Ros is with her. They’re going to discharge her in the morning. She doesn’t want to see you right now.”

“All right. I’ll be out here if she changes her mind.”

Her expression stayed flat. “I don’t think she wants you here, period. Not right now.”

Rev inclined his head, acknowledging it, but then he turned to Lawrence. “Thanks for bringing me here, and sticking with me at the police.”

Then he moved to a chair that faced the hallway that held Veracity’s room and sat down. After exchanging a glance with Lawrence, Cyn pivoted and went back down the hall.

Lawrence gave him an approving nod. “Good call.”

“I messed up bad, Lawrence.”

“They messed up bad. You made it right. That’s what matters.”

“No. I mean…leaving her so I could handle Witford and Tisha. Because of her family…she not going to understand.”

“Yeah, she will.” Lawrence gave him a sober look. “Vera might be hurting, and you have to give her the room to feel that, but she’ll understand. You had to make sure that they couldn’t hurt her again. That’s part of taking care of her.”

Lawrence came close enough to grip his shoulder. “You’re the real deal, man. We all see it. It’s why Cyn didn’t tear you a new one. She might do it later, though. I’m going to touch base with Rosalinda, then I have to go to the rec center for a little while. I’ll be back soon, though.”

Left to his own thoughts, Rev stared down the hallway.

His mind wasn’t done punishing him. The images cycled through, again and again. Getting to the mill, not believing what he was seeing, not comprehending his family was responsible for hurting her like that. Then getting into the water, nothing else mattering but getting her out.

He gripped the chair arms. Tiger had gotten Simon and Tyson out of Rev’s path, advancing upon them with a wall of rage and physical intimidation. They’d bolted for the parking lot. Witford had hurried Tisha to his car while Tiger was occupied with the other two.

Rev thought of the cold dark of the water, his Mistress bound there. It had made his own soul cold and dark.

When she was free and he had her in his arms, his flood of relief vanished when he realized he couldn’t feel her breath on his neck. Her heart didn’t beat against his, no sign that her soul was within her.

Tiger lifted her out as the other two men hiked themselves out of the water. When Lawrence started CPR, Rev clasped both his hands around one of hers. Her long brown fingers, herpalm a sweet light sand color, with a touch of pink. Two of her polished nails were broken.

Lawrence had had Ros wait in the car until they figured out what was going on, but now she was here, too, kneeling next to Lawrence as he administered CPR, her eyes fixed on Vera’s face.

Rev had put his other hand on Veracity’s chest, below where Lawrence was trying to get her heart to pump. He didn’t register when Lawrence realized there was nothing more to be done and Ros choked out a protest, a hard sob. Rev had put it all away, everything gone. It was just him with his head bowed, his heart, mind and soul praying, reaching out to his Mistress, looking for her in the void. He wouldn’t let his heart beat again until hers did. That was all there was to it.

He’d thought of the structure of a prayer, just as he’d described it to her.

Ask for what you need, trust that you will receive it.Please let her life be what is needed. Give her back her life. Don’t take her away from us. Not like this. Please God, she serves you as I do. She loves. She is full of love. Please…

He’d never consciously reached for that energy within him, that well of pure belief and faith. It just came and he followed its lead. But he’d grabbed hold of it, plunged into it, willing to drown in it like Vera had drowned in the water, just to bring her back.Please…please… Please…

When she jerked and started to cough, the power was a triumphant jolt of electricity through him. He immediately bent his head lower to praise its Source, even as he couldn’t let her go. Didn’t ever want to let her go.

Rev came back to the present. His hands were clasped hard in his lap, as if he still held her hand. He’d also somehow fallen asleep. It was a couple hours later, and things were quiet. Outside the windows, it was night, the lights of New Orleansbright. And Rosalinda Thomas sat across from him, watching him.

She’d changed into the most casual thing he’d seen her in, light blue jeans and a tunic top with silver thread at the neckline. Her boots had silver braid sewn around the ankle.

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