Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(128)

And then, maybe because Jax loved me—was in love with me—and I was in love with him, or maybe because I’d just been shot and was on some really good meds, I started crying.

Jax murmured something against my lips and then he caught the tears with his thumbs. Because there was no way for him to get in this bed with me, he did the next best thing. He scooted the chair as close as he could and stretched his upper body toward mine, circling an arm around my shoulders as he rested his cheek on the pillow next to mine. Some time passed before the waterworks ceased and I found myself smiling at him. I managed to get my right arm to work and I had my hand on the back of his neck, my fingers slowly threading through his hair as he explained in great detail how he planned on showing me when I got better just how much he loved me, so much detail I was sure my face was as red as a tomato, but boy did I have something to look forward to.

More time passed, enough that I wondered how he got the staff to let him be in my room, but I didn’t care. He was here and that was all that mattered. Both of us were getting tired when he said, “There’s some things we need to talk about, but it can wait until you’re out of here. Okay?”

At that moment, he’d said everything that I needed so desperately to hear him say, so I could wait to hear whatever else he wanted to tell me. I nodded and my eyelids felt droopy and it was then, after being awake for God knows how long, it hit me.

“Oh God.” I started to sit up again, but Jax was there, gently keeping my shoulders down.

“What?” Concern poured into his voice. “What’s wrong?”

I grasped his wrist with my right hand. “Mom. Mom was there, Jax. She was in the parking lot. Was she hurt?”

He stared at me a moment and then shook his head as his brows slammed down. “Mona was there?”

“Yes! She was outside waiting for me, but a car pulled up and then someone starting shooting. Was she hit?”

“Okay. You need to calm down.” He curled his hand around my cheek again. “This is the first anyone is hearing about your mom, honey. No one knows she was there.”

Confused, I stared at him. “Wait. She was there. I talked to her. She called me baby. She was there, Jax.”

He didn’t say anything.

My mind raced. “She was there when they started shooting, and I heard the car pull away—”

“The police found the car they believed was used abandoned a few miles away from the bar,” he explained. “I don’t know who it’s registered to, but they think it was probably stolen. I’m sure we’ll get more info later.”

“But . . . but that doesn’t make sense.”

His eyes met mine and then he kissed my cheek. “Honey, I . . . I’m sorry.”

I started to ask him why he was apologizing, but then I knew. I got it. He was apologizing because my mom had showed up at the bar, had seen me and I had seen her, people who were pissed at her had opened fire and I got hit, and . . . and Mom had to have known that.

Blinking slowly, I shook my head. “She had to have known I was hurt.”

He smoothed his thumb under my lip, and I felt the disbelief piling up on me. I remembered calling out for her and there being no answer. “She left me there, Jax, in a parking lot, bleeding from a gunshot wound meant for her. She left me.”

“Honey,” he said softly. “I don’t know what to say.”

Because what the hell did you say to something like that? My own mom had left me bleeding in a parking lot. Good God, did she care at all? My lower lip trembled, and Jax moved back in, his fingers spreading across my cheek as he turned my head toward his.

His lips met mine and he said, “I love you.”

I closed my eyes as I nodded slightly. He pressed his forehead against mine, holding me the only way he could until the exhaustion finally caught up with me, washing away all the very good and all the very bad.

Over the next two days while I was kept in the hospital for observation, my room became a very happening place. Detective Anders had been in and out more than once; so had Reece. Roxy and Nick had showed, the former sneaking me in doughnuts that I wasn’t allowed to eat yet, but I hadn’t the heart to tell her and the latter had been broodier than ever. I felt responsible for that. He’d offered to take me home and maybe if I’d taken him up on that offer, Mom wouldn’t have attempted to approach me and I wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed going out of my mind with cabin fever.

The shooting had hit the news, and somehow Cam had heard about it or Teresa had kept calling my cell and Jax had finally answered—I didn’t know which or if it was a combo of both, but my friends—God love them—were back in town, having driven up the moment they’d heard I’d been shot. They were staying at a hotel a few blocks from the hospital and they were playing the whole thing cool. Jase had even joked around how I kept summer break interesting for all of them, but I could tell that they were seriously worried, especially when Teresa had said that she wanted me to come home, back to Shepherd as soon as possible. But I also didn’t have the heart to tell her that wouldn’t solve anything.

Turned out I was in the same hospital as Clyde. He was well enough to be up for short periods and that meant he was in my room, cussing up a storm and usually getting taken back to his room before he had another heart attack.

Throughout all of this Jax rarely left my side. He took time off at the bar, and Nick and Roxy really stepped up to help out. He had some kind of hot guy Jedi mind control over the staff, because he stayed in my room throughout the night and I knew that was a big no-no, but I didn’t question it. Those long hours in the middle of the night, when I couldn’t sleep and all I wanted to do was get the hell out of there, he was there. We talked about important stuff, like what we’d fought over, and then we talked about stupid things like where to go in case of a zombie apocalypse or what our favorite reality shows were. I admitted that I still watched Toddlers & Tiaras, might have a wee crush on Property Brothers, and he was a fan of Kitchen Nightmares and Bar Rescue, and had more than just a wee crush on Robbie Welsh from Shipping Wars. When he’d started talking about his favorite football team, I dozed off, and when I woke up some time later, he’d been asleep in what had to have been the most uncomfortable position known to man.