[Immunity] David Kay - Ch.1: The Fracture

Instructions

The hospital's fluorescent lights cast everything in a harsh, sickly glow. Nurses moved quickly, and the monitors beeped like they were impatient. But for Deacon Kay, everything else faded away, and all he could focus on was the steel door labeled SURGERY and the blood that was drying on his hands. Hondo tried to say something—maybe to comfort him, give orders, or warn him, but it all seemed to fade like sound underwater. The only thing that stuck in his mind was the surgeon's words from a few minutes ago. "...she's losing too much blood......we'll try..." "...prepare yourself..." Prepare himself. As if that was even possible. A part of him—the one trained to handle situations like this—whispered to breathe, stay alert, and keep focused. But the louder voice inside him was primal and angry, pushing him beyond reason.Someone had gone after his family. Someone shot three times into Annie's chest. Someone tried to kill his kids. And that person was still out there.Deacon clenched his jaw hard enough that it hurt. Agent Devereaux appeared around the corner, his boots clicking on the tile like gunshots. He didn't soften his expression or lower his voice—he had that federal confidence mixed with impatience. "We need to move," He said briskly. "Murido's ready to talk. Immunity is on the table." Deacon turned to him slowly, his gaze icy. Devereaux hesitated for a moment. "My wife," Deacon replied, "is in there fighting for her life." "And more people will die if we don't take this deal." He stepped closer, lowering his voice but keeping his arrogance. "I know this is tough, Sergeant, but don't take it personally." Hondo sucked in a breath. Tan went stiff. Luca looked like he was about to say something he'd regret. But they didn't need to. Deacon took a step forward. "Say that again." Devereaux started to speak—confident, a little dismissive—but the look on Deacon's face made him freeze. It was like he'd been stripped down to nothing but rage. A guy with nothing left to lose. Hondo lightly touched Deacon's arm. "Deac... Don't do this. Not here." Deacon kept his eyes on Devereaux. "If Murido gets away," he said quietly, "I'll make sure he doesn't get very far." He bristled. "Is that a threat?" "No." Deacon's voice was cold. "It's a promise." Finally, the surgical doors swung open.The surgeon stepped out, mask hanging around his neck, looking completely worn out.Deacon felt his heart drop. "Sergeant Kay," the doctor said carefully, "we were able to stabilize her—for now. She's alive. But it's serious. The next twenty-four hours are crucial." Alive. But hanging by a thread.Deacon closed his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Relief, guilt, anger—they all twisted up in him like a knot he couldn't untangle. Then something clicked.Not softened. Not healed. Sharpened. If Annie pulled through, it would be because he protected her in the only way left.By making sure the guy who hurt her never saw the light of day again. A nurse guided him to the ICU window. Annie lay there, pale and still, hooked up to machines doing the breathing for her. With tubes, wires, and the constant beeping from a monitor—none of it felt real.His eyes burned, but he didn't shed any tears. He was just empty inside. Not yet. "It should've been me," he muttered. Hondo sighed. "Deac, none of this is on you." But Deacon wasn't listening. His hand pressed against the glass, as if he could reach her through it. "She told me we'd get through anything," he whispered. "She believed in me."He lowered his hand.And something inside him hardened into a vow."Now I'm going to believe in me too."He turned away from the window. The dependable, controlled veteran SWAT sergeant was gone.What stood in his place was something far more dangerous. "We're done waiting," Deacon said quietly. "I'm going after Murido." Hondo stepped in front of him. "With us." Deacon shook his head. "Not this time." "Deac—" "I'm not asking." The team saw it then—the shift.The moment the guy they knew turned into someone else entirely. Someone forged from anger, grief, and purpose. Someone who would cross any line to make Murido pay.