Page 30 of Fighting for Julia
ALICEVILLE, ALABAMA
MARCH 2
Miguel and Julia
It took lessthan five minutes to transport Miguel to a brand-new, state-of-the-art Level One trauma center located on the outskirts of Aliceville, two miles from McMullen. Julia ran alongside the gurney as Miguel was rushed into emergency surgery by the trauma team who’d stabilized him after he’d flatlined.
“Stay with me, Miguel! Stay with me!”
He heard her because he opened his eyes and focused on her face. “Go.”
The hoarsely muttered word hit her hard. Julia stopped running several feet short of the operating room and watched as Miguel disappeared behind the heavy automated doors.
A trauma nurse paused long enough to say, “Don’t worry, Agent Washburn. He’s in excellent hands.”
In a daze, lost in a maelstrom of emotions, Julia found an empty waiting room in the surgical unit and sank into a chair with a vinyl seat cushion. Her hands shook as she pressedJustice McQuaid’s number to the government cell phone that he’d been issued.
“Justice McQuaid speaking.”
“Justice, it’s Julia. Thank God, you answered!” She heard a crowd cheering in the background and realized her mother must still be at the basketball game.
“What’s happened?” Justice demanded in a terse voice. “Are you and Miguel safe?”
“Safe, yes, but?—”
“But what?” Justice interrupted.
“Axalia shot Miguel. She and her brother are in the wind again, and Miguel’s in surgery. He’s fighting for his life, Justice.”
Without hesitation, without a single catch or tremor in his voice, Justice replied, “Luca will be on his way as soon as we can get him in the air. Where are you?”
“Aliceville, Alabama. But Justice, you’re already one man short. How will you do without Luca?”
“We’ll manage. Call me as soon as Miguel is out of surgery.”
“Yes, sir.”
Miguel’s blood on her hands and clothes finally caught Julia’s attention. She staggered to her feet and began looking for a bathroom. A sign pointed her in the right direction, and soon she ducked into a single occupant restroom. Breathing hard and fighting back the bile rising in her throat, Julia scrubbed the copper-smelling blood off her hands. She gagged and vomited into the toilet. When her sickness passed, she splashed her face with water and rinsed out her mouth. As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, only then did she become aware of her tears.
Miguel. River.
If he died because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
I can’t believe he urged me to leave him behind.
Yes, I can. Because that’s the kind of man he is.
The kind of man he is…brave, honorable, loyal. Miguel wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t let her track the Andersons by herself, and he wouldn’t leave her behind, even if it meant losing their targets. And she wouldn’t do it, either. He might insist if Luca were with him, though.
If he survived.
No. She wouldn’t think like that. Miguel Rivera was a Laguna Beach cop, and those guys survived against all odds. They were invincible, almost as if they were action heroes in movies.
Julia wiped her face with a paper towel and squared her shoulders. She’dwillMiguel to survive. In just a few short days, he’d ignited something deep inside her, something foreign and exciting. She couldn’t lose him now.
Julia returned to the waiting room to begin a lonely vigil. Her mother called to express her concern for Miguel and to inform Julia that Luca was on a private jet and would arrive at an airstrip near Aliceville in about four hours.
“Honey, I know you’re worried and scared. So are we. We’re praying for Miguel and for you, too. Hang in there.”
