Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Jackson woke to a pounding headache, a loud ringing in his ears, his entire body aching, and the touch of a hand on his. A deep, nauseating pulse battered at the base of his skull radiating outward, pressing behind his eyes like a vice.
He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry, raw, like he’d swallowed a mouthful of dust and chemicals. Every breath burned, and his ribs ached like they’d been wrapped in steel bands, each inhalation a sharp stab.
His chest wouldn’t expand properly, like something heavy was pressing down on it, squeezing the air out of him.
Am I having a heart attack?
Where am I, and what happened?
He couldn’t remember anything. He tried to open his eyes, but they were too heavy. He thought he heard a voice. Could it be Paula’s? Jackson pushed against the bone-deep tiredness that threatened to pull him under and strained to hear.
A muffled voice threaded through the static in his brain. He tried to latch onto it, to make sense of the words, but everything was jumbled.
He forced his eyes open.
The light stabbed into him like a blade. He winced, or at least, he thought he did—his face didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
He tried again, blinking against the too-bright overhead lights.
“I love you.”
His heart soared.
She loves me?
He’d never told her about his feelings for her. He’d have to change that as soon as possible.
He had to tell her—had to say it back.
Before he could do anything, the darkness descended again.
She pressed a kiss to his hand before placing it gently on the bed and rubbed her fingers over his rough knuckles. His hand was warm, solid—alive.
I need to hold onto that.
The fear, the helplessness—she couldn’t afford to dwell on them. He was alive. He was breathing, even if it sounded like hell. That had to be enough.
She rose with newfound resolve. She would help him get back on his feet, and she wouldn’t face it alone. They had friends. She had!
Paula pulled her phone from her pocket as soon as she closed the curtains to Jackson’s room and called the first person she could think of.
Laura answered at the second ring. “Paula, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It’s Jackson”—Paula fought to keep her voice even—“he’s been hurt. Badly.”
“Oh, dear Lord. What happened?” Laura’s concern was obvious.
Paula started pacing, barely aware of her surroundings.
“I don’t know. Jackson saved a little kid from a house where they were cooking meth.
He was near the building when the chemicals exploded.
” Paula turned and retraced her steps. “He’s unconscious and has a broken femur.
They did a CT scan on his head, but I don’t know all the details. ”
After a beat of silence, Laura asked, “Do you want us to come over?”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. The offer made Paula’s breath hitch. She didn’t expect this kind of support. She wasn’t used to having people—real people—who had her back. Her family never had, and it felt so good to have friends, people she could rely on.
“No, thank you.” She shook her head even though Laura couldn’t see her.
“That won’t be necessary. I just needed to talk to someone.
” She exhaled sharply, forcing a brittle laugh.
“For now, I want to be at his side, and they won’t allow you in the room with me anyway.
Hell, they wouldn’t let me in at first.”
“Okay,” Laura agreed. “We’ll be praying for him. Call me if you need me.”
“I will,” Paula whispered. “Thank you, Laura.”
She ended the call and drew a deep breath before heading back inside. Jackson hadn’t stirred.
She moved the chair from the corner of the room next to the bed to be closer to him.
Before Paula could sit down, the door opened.
Expecting to see Molly, she wasn’t prepared for the two men who strode into the room.
“Detective Stone?” She blanched and faced Captain Lacey, Jackson’s commander, with Will Tolbert on his heels.
“Sir.” Paula composed herself and nodded her respect to Jackson’s superior.
She only knew the man by reputation, but apparently he knew who she was.
It was either the perk or the curse of being a female sergeant and the only woman to have received both the Honor Award for Public Service and the Criminal Investigation Award.
“Good afternoon, you must be Detective Tolbert.”
Jackson’s partner looked at her with a confused expression that might have been comical if not for Jackson lying unmoving in the bed.
Shit.
The force of Will’s animosity hit her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs.
He wasn’t glaring at her. Not exactly. But the sharpness in his posture, the way his dark eyes raked over her, was unmistakable. Disapproval. Distrust. Disbelief.
She straightened and lifted her chin.
A muscle in Tolbert’s jaw ticked, and he gave her a once-over, clearly not approving of what he was seeing.
The weight of his scrutiny burned, but she could handle scorn. She was used to it. It helped that she knew Will was only looking out for Jackson because he cared.
His partner was lying unconscious in a hospital bed, and she could practically hear the thoughts running through Will’s mind. Who the hell was she to be here?
He didn’t trust her.
Didn’t believe she belonged.
“You’re not wearing a ring. Fiancée, my ass!”
Paula clenched her fists, the old instinct to go ice cold and emotionless kicking in. She barely had time to process before a nurse—Molly, from earlier—stepped in, eyes blazing.
“I told you gentlemen to wait because the patient already had a visitor,” Molly snapped, hands on her hips.
Will squared his shoulders, arms crossing over his chest. “You told us his fiancée was with him.” His tone was clipped, like he was trying to force himself to stay professional. “As his partner, I know Jackson isn’t engaged. And it’s even less likely he’d be involved with her .”
The last word landed like a slap.
Paula curled her fingers until her short nails dug into her palms.
The prick of physical pain had nothing on the ache in her chest.
She didn’t know Tolbert. He didn’t know her. But that didn’t make it easier to accept the immediate dismissal, the sheer certainty that she was unworthy of Jackson’s time. Paula struggled to breathe through her emotions and couldn’t speak.
Molly clearly didn’t have the same problem. “I wouldn’t know about his personal life, but in here, my rules are what count.” She put extra emphasis on ‘my’, and damn if it didn’t make Paula like her even more. “You need to check the attitude.”
Tolbert’s jaw tightened. “Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, but Paula caught the hint of amusement in his voice, as if he couldn’t help but appreciate Molly’s fire.
Captain Lacey cleared his throat, cutting through the tension. “Excuse us, ma’am. We were anxious to know how Detective Cagney is doing, and we had no idea he”—he glanced at Paula—“had someone with him.”
The implication was clear.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
“I’ve been trying to reach his brother, but I’ve only gotten voicemail,” Lacey continued. “Seems Detective Cagney never updated his emergency contacts.” He looked between her and Tolbert, his gaze assessing. “He didn’t have you listed, either.”
Tolbert’s mouth pressed into a thin line.
Paula held her breath.
That should have mattered. The fact that she wasn’t listed. That, technically, she had no official place in Jackson’s life.
But she was here.
And that had to count for something.
She lifted her chin, meeting Lacey’s gaze head on. “Regardless of what’s on paper,” she said evenly, “I care about him. We’re engaged, and I’m not leaving.”
If Tolbert had a problem with that, he’d simply have to deal with it.