Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(126)

Tiny sparks speared into the night.

There was a popping sound.

Mom shouted, and I thought she screamed my name, but there were more popping sounds, like a dozen corks being pulled at once, and more sparks. I dimly realized it was gunfire just as glass exploded all around me. Metal pinged close to me, too close, and my purse slipped out of my fingers as a scream built in my throat.

The sound never left me, because my breath was punched out of me as a strange burn lit up my stomach, sharp and sudden, intense and stealing my breath.

I looked down as I wobbled back, bumping into a Jeep. I thought I heard shouting, but my head was spinning in a funny way. My hands shook as I pressed them against my side. I felt something warm and wet.

“Mom,” I croaked as the bones left my legs. I didn’t remember falling, but the back of my head hurt, but not as bad as my stomach. I was staring up at the sky, but the stars were moving, like they were raining. “Mom?”

There was no answer.





Thirty-one


When I opened my eyes again, I wasn’t staring at stars or even a bright light. It was a ceiling, a white drop ceiling with a soft, dim light fixture. The rest was shadowy and as my gaze tracked to the opposite wall, I saw a pale blue curtain. My thoughts were slushy and I felt funny, like I was floating, but I knew I was in a hospital. There was a dull sensation of something in my right hand and as my gaze slowly trekked to where it rested on the bed, I could see an IV.

Definitely a hospital.

Oh yeah, that was right, I’d been shot. Actually shot with a gun. Seriously.

God, my luck sucked.

I started to sit up, but the dull ache turned sharper, piercing across my belly, and the air punched out of my lungs at the suddenness of it. The walls spun like a bad acid trip.

Movement from the left of my bed stirred the air around me and a gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I blinked the room back into focus as my head was guided back against the surprising stack of pillows.

“Awake for a couple of seconds and you’re already trying to sit up.”

The heart monitor registered the sudden increase in my heart rate as I turned my head to the left. My beat skipped unsteadily.

Jax was sitting in a chair next to the bed and he looked . . . he looked like crap. Dark smudges bloomed under eyes that were normally the color of warm whiskey. The shadow of stubble along his jaw was thicker than normal.

But he smiled when my eyes met his and he said in a gruff voice that was thick, “There you are.”

“I took your shirt.”

His brows furrowed together. “What?”

I don’t know why I said that. I could tell there were some really sweet drugs rolling through my system right now. So I was going to blame them. “I took your shirt when I left your house, because I wanted a part of you if you decided you didn’t want to see me anymore.”

He straightened in his chair and his lips parted as he stared at me.

“I feel funny,” I admitted. “I think I’ve been shot.”

His expression tensed. “You were shot, honey. In the stomach.”

I wetted my dry lips. “That sounds bad.” I knew that could be bad, come to think of it. We had, like, an entire week or something dedicated to gunshot wounds in one of my classes.

“You were actually lucky. The doctor said the bullet missed all major vital organs. Clean in and out,” he explained, voice low. “There was some internal bleeding.”

“Oh. That’s definitely bad.”

He tilted his head to the side and closed his eyes. “Yeah, hon, that’s bad.”

Jax sounded so worried, so . . . I don’t know, out of it, that I felt the need to reassure him. “It doesn’t really hurt.”

“I know,” he murmured. “They said they were giving you pain meds. I . . . damnit. Calla.” He leaned forward, getting so close to my face with his that I caught the faint scent of cologne. “Oh, honey . . .” He shook his head and the darkness in his eyes bordered on a tortured intensity. He placed his hand on my left cheek and I felt the tremor that coursed through it. “I know you probably have questions, but there’s something I gotta say, okay?”

“Okay.”

“When you woke up yesterday and I was gone, it wasn’t what you thought.”

The last twenty-four hours started to replay in my head, coming together like a slow-moving picture book.

Yesterday had sucked ass.

“I had to go downtown for a fitting for the wedding and I had to leave early. I should’ve left a note, but I was still pissed-off about that night before. I left thinking you’d be there when I got back and we’d talk, but Roxy called me.”

I frowned up at him. “She . . . she called you?”

“Yeah.” His gaze moved over my face and then down, and I swore he was watching my chest move, as if he was reassuring himself that I was breathing. “She called me on the way to your house, because she was worried about your safety. I knew you left, and yeah, I was angry about that. I thought we were on the same page.” He coughed out a dry, harsh laugh. “I’d called Reece, letting them know you were at your house. They had a car on you.”

I hadn’t even noticed that. Granted I wasn’t the most observant person apparently; so maybe I should rethink that career in nursing.