Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(113)

As the doctor left, I turned and Teresa was standing there. She wrapped her arms around me, and I hugged her back. “This is good,” she said. “This is really good.”

Blinking back the tears, I nodded. “I know. Clyde’s strong. He’ll pull through.” Sniffling, I edged back and smiled at her. Jax was standing beside me, and he took hold of my hand, threading his fingers through mine. He squeezed. “Thank you,” I said again, totally choked up as I turned to my friends. “Thank you.”

Avery smiled in return, and my eyes dropped to her waist for some reason. I don’t really know why, but I saw that they were being their typical most adorable couple in all of coupledom; her smaller hand was in Cam’s, their palms pressing together and his fingers curled around hers.

Just like Jax’s held mine.





Twenty-eight


It wasn’t until Monday afternoon that Clyde was well enough for a short visit. Jax had to stay out in the waiting area while a young nurse led me into his room.

Seeing him lying on the narrow bed, his once big and bulky frame appearing so frail, and covered with tubes and wires, shook me up.

My knees knocked together as he blinked slowly and then I swallowed the raw emotion building in my throat. I sat in the small chair beside his bed. Reaching out, I placed my fingers over his. “Hey there.”

A weak, tired smile appeared on his lips. His complexion was terribly pale. “Baby girl . . .”

My breath caught. “How are you feeling?”

“Ready to . . . run a marathon.”

I laughed and my smile became wobbly. Several seconds passed as we stared at each other, and I had to swallow hard again. “I want you to get better.”

The weak smile fluttered. “On it.”

“I want you to get better so that when school starts back up and I come home on the weekends, you’ll make me tacos,” I told him. “Okay?”

His brows lifted a fraction of an inch and he murmured, “Home?”

Worried that the heart attack had messed with more than his heart, I nodded. “Yeah, when I come home, I want you . . .” I trailed off as the sharp slice of understanding cut through me.

Home.

I’d called here home.

And I hadn’t called here home in years, because it hadn’t felt that way since Mom went downhill and Dad left. My mouth opened wordlessly, but I didn’t know what to say. The strangest thing was I had no inclination to correct what I had said, because here . . . here was home again.

Wow.

I had no idea what to do with all that.

That exhausted smile showed off a toothy grin that faded quickly. “Baby girl, I never . . . thought I’d hear . . . that again.”

“I . . . I never thought I’d say that again.” Damnit. Tears made it to my eyes, and I wondered if this was the summer I went on Prozac. “But it’s . . .”

“It’s true.” He took a deep breath and winced. “It’s good, baby girl. It’s . . . real good.”

I squeezed his fingers gently and leaned forward, whispering, “It is.”

And I wasn’t lying. It really was. My heart kicked around in my chest as I wiped the back of my other hand across my cheek.

“You feel that?” he asked quietly.

“What?” I croaked out.

“The weight lifting a little . . . off you,” he said. “You feel it?”

My lips trembled as I nodded. “Yeah, Uncle Clyde, I feel that.”

Another deep breath passed and it took a lot for him to get his hand turned around. He squeezed my fingers back with the pressure of a toddler, and that was hard to see. “Your momma . . . she loved you, baby girl. She still does. You . . . know that, right?”

Smashing my lips together, I nodded. I did know that. In spite of all the terrible stuff she did, I knew she still loved me. She just needed the high more than she needed my love or me. It was just a sad truth about someone addicted to drugs.

His grip relaxed and he closed his eyes. I sat there for a couple more moments. “You need to rest. I’ll come back later.”

He nodded slowly, but as I started to pull away, his eyes opened and his hand flexed around mine. “That boy . . . he’s cared about you for a . . .” He faded out, and I froze, half sitting, half standing. Then he spoke again. “He’s a good boy, baby girl. Jackson’s always been perfect for you.”

“Always been?” I asked.

But there was no answer. Uncle Clyde was out, and his words left me confused. The way he spoke was like Jax had been in my life for a long time and he hadn’t. Then again, Clyde was on some pretty damn good painkillers. I stayed for a few more minutes, watching his chest rise and fall, reassuring myself that he was very much alive and that he was going to get better. I pressed a kiss to his cheek and then left the room.

I turned down the hall, passed the busy nurse station, and headed toward the waiting room.

Detective Anders was leaning against the wall, waiting for me. I couldn’t stop the tension that crept up over me when I saw him.

“Hey,” I said, slowing my step. I glanced at the windows of the waiting room. It was empty.

“Jax ran down a floor to get a drink out of one of the vending machines,” Detective Anders explained. “He should be back in a few. I told him I’d wait for you. I’d called your cell and when there was no answer, I called Jax.”