Grounded (Up in the Air, #3)(106)

I turned my head sharply, seeking out James. The short motion made my head ache and the side of my face burned sharply.

I felt my hand in his and knew that he’d stayed at my side for the ordeal. I saw in his weary, grief-stricken face how it had cost him, what he’d been put through.

“Stephan?” was the first word out of my mouth. It was agony to try to talk. I had to speak through my teeth, since I could barely open my mouth. I ignored the pain, focusing on James, desperate for an answer.

James raised his bloodshot, agonized eyes to mine. Those turquoise depths had never looked so relieved. He gasped in a breath, as though coming up for air. He blinked at me several times before he found his voice. “He’s recovering from surgery.”

I only heard his voice in one ear, and wondered vaguely if I’d lost the hearing in the other. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered to me but finding out about Stephan just then.

“How badly was he hurt? Will he be okay? I need to see him now,” I said, trying to sit up.

He paused for a long time to choose his words, and that scared me more than anything. “He’s in the ICU. He was badly hurt. No one can see him—“

I pulled the IV from my arm, sitting up. The pain in my head and ear temporarily darkened my vision and a dull roar started up in the ear that was working. “I need to see him now.”

I didn’t realize what a commotion I’d caused until I’d been wrestled back into the bed, and saw the amount of people that had gathered to restrain me.

My eyes sought out James while a nurse shoved needles into my arm. I felt terrible as I saw the tears running down his cheeks and the helpless look on his face. “Please, James. I have to see him.”

Finally he nodded. “Please don’t do that again. I’ll arrange for you to see him, but you must stay in your bed.”

I nodded, closing my eyes in relief. He would do as he said. He always had.

I didn’t sleep, but I didn’t open my eyes again until I felt my bed begin to move. A team of nurses surrounded me, James at my right, clutching my hand as he followed beside the wheeled hospital bed. “Who else made it?” I asked James, bracing myself for the answer.

“Blake was wounded badly, but they’re telling me now that she’ll make it.”

“So that means that…” I swallowed hard, finding it hard to finish the sentence.

“Paterson and Henry died before the paramedics could arrive. Your…father did as well.”

I processed that, blinking away tears. “You wouldn’t believe how many holes he had in his chest, and still he kept coming…”

“It was a bullet to the brain that ended him,” James told me. “Stephan came to just long enough to take him out. I owe him yet another debt that I can never repay.”

My chest burned and I shut my eyes, letting awful tears run down my cheeks. Of course Stephan had survived long enough to save me. My hero. I couldn’t lose him. My eyes shot back open as a thought occurred. “Did he see my father shoot me?”

“He must have. They deduced that your father must have gotten off the shot just before Stephan fired. They tell me your struggle is all that saved you. He shot into your cheek. There was damage, but he missed his target.”

I tried to touch the bandaged side of my face. “How on earth?”

“You’ve lost significant hearing in that ear, and they had to do surgery on your jaw. There will be scarring along your jaw and cheek, but we will make sure it’s minimized as much as possible. You will have the best plastic surgeons in the world at your disposal.”

He continued to talk, but I barely even heard him, my mind still on Stephan. I couldn’t care less about the scarring, my jaw, or even the loss of hearing. I was alive. The rest were details.

But Stephan… Stephan had to live. “How long was I out?”

“Four days.”

“Tell me about Stephan’s wounds.”

“Both bullets missed his heart, if only barely, but one punctured a lung, and he’s had some internal bleeding that has persisted. The doctor who performed the surgery believes that it was a success, but he says that Stephan won’t be out of danger until his vitals stabilize. It’s been very touch and go. They tell me he’s improved, followed by a decline, but he’s getting the best care available, and he’s a healthy young man, so they say we can be hopeful, even though he’s not yet stabilized.”

“If I see him, if I speak to him, it will help,” I said, more hopeful than certain. “If he knows I made it, he’ll pull through. He would have been devastated if he watched my father shoot me. This will help.”

My vision was completely blurred with tears as they rolled my bed beside Stephan’s. They wheeled me as close as possible, my feet pointed in the direction of his headrest. They were considerate enough to bring our unencumbered hands close. Javier was on the other side of him, his head bent over his other IV covered hand.

I gripped his fingers in mine, squeezing. “I made it, Stephan. I’m fine. You saved me again, but you need to wake up now. You were hurt, but it’s nothing that you can’t survive. Please, wake up.” I got louder as I spoke, my voice rough with emotion.

He didn’t so much as twitch. I glanced at his heart rate monitor, but could make no sense of it. I glanced at the closest nurse. “Have his vitals improved?” I asked her.