Chapter Thirty-Two #2
There was a large-sounding crash from somewhere in the house, and I stumbled back, gaping at the ceiling. Hayes’ strong hands were at my waist then. “Steady,” he cooed at the shell of my ear.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, chest heaving as I looked at all of them.
Ash smirked at me. “If I had to guess, that was the front porch collapsing.”
Dominic shook his head and put his mask back down. “You’re banned from explosives,” he declared, leaving the room.
Grayson looked at Hayes and me over his shoulder, silently checking in.
“I’ve got her,” Hayes confirmed, his voice gruff. When I looked back up at him, his mask was back on his face.
“I want a mask,” I mumbled.
“Jake can make you one,” Ash said, reloading his gun as Grayson left the room.
“Really?”
Sometime later, I was standing at the end of Jake’s hospital bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. He had a giant patch over his shoulder and multiple IVs, his cheek bruised.
My arms were wrapped around my midsection, and when I looked up to the blood bag hanging by his head, I tightened my hold, a shiver going through me.
The guys were outside in the hall, talking with the doctor, but I didn’t have the energy to listen about all the suffering Jake had gone through. I needed to lay eyes on him.
“Hey, Jake,” I whispered, my voice weak.
All I got in response were the beeps from his heart monitor.
I curled my right pointer finger inward, pressing the nail into my skin, my eyes stinging.
I’d managed to dry my tears before we drove away from what was left of Gordon’s mansion.
I had no idea what it looked like prior to Ash bombing it, but from what I could tell, it was the prettiest cage I’d ever been in.
“We got Gordon,” I told my friend, shifting my weight. “He’s with the FBI right now.”
The low murmurs of the rest of Red Snake’s voices grew louder, and I knew I didn’t have much time. With a steady breath, I rounded the bed and bent over Jake. “Do you remember that part in book two where the main character finally faced the villain? In the cave?”
He didn’t answer, but his eyelids shifted.
“Rothamack wasn’t afraid when he finally confronted his worst fear. I thought I would be the same,” I continued, “but I wasn’t. I was petrified.”
“Petrified?”
I shot up, gasping as my hand flew to my mouth. Hayes was standing at the edge of the bed, studying me with a furrowed brow.
“I thought you were outside,” I breathed.
“I was and now I’m here.” He glanced at his friend. “He should be awake in a few hours.”
“Okay.”
Hayes stared at me, tilting his head to the side. “Baby?”
“Hmm?”
“Please get into my arms before I lose my shit.”
My face crumpled, a horrid, broken sob leaving me as I collided with his chest. My arms locked around his neck as I planted my face against his heart and cried, my body jerking with sobs.
His arms were around me, secure, the promise of their safety everlasting.
“You want another truth, my love?” he rasped, pressing a harsh kiss on my forehead.
“That was the scariest three hours and thirty-six minutes of my life.”
I put my cheek on his shoulder, gasping through my sobs. “I love you. I love you so much, Hayes.”
He was silent, but his arms tightened around me as he gave me another kiss.
There was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in with the rest of the Red Snake team following close behind. “Good evening,” the doctor greeted with kind eyes.
“Hello,” I mumbled, not leaving Hayes’ arms.
For the next few minutes, the doctor went over Jake’s injuries.
“Can you explain why he suffered so much blood loss? If the bullet just grazed his shoulder, then wouldn’t I have been able to slow the bleeding?” I asked, glancing at my friend. Jake was a ginger, and gingers usually had pale skin, but the shade of his complexion right now reminded me of death.
“Jake has thrombocytopenia.”
“Thin blood,” Grayson said softly, answering my silent question.
“Is there something wrong with his liver?” I asked, looking back to the doctor.
“No,” Hayes answered, tipping my head back so our eyes could meet.
“His thin blood is caused by a genetic mutation that’s been in his family for generations.
It’s extremely rare.” He got closer, his green eyes warm.
“You did everything right. You did everything you could. Don’t let this eat at you. ”
The doctor murmured something to Grayson about paperwork as they stepped back into the hall. I moved back to the side of Jake’s bed, taking his hand in mine. “I need you to get better,” I ordered sharply, my bottom lip wobbling. “We have to finish Frank’s series.”
“You’re reading that too?” Ash asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.
I nodded. “I’m on book four.”
He came to stand on the opposite side of the bed, smiling. “I’m on three. Adam just cheated on Mary Ann.”
Slowly, Ash worked his magic, pulling me out of my guilt, distracting me from the reality of this harsh world while Hayes made some calls, ensuring that my past would never touch me again.
Two days later.
“Gordon has been charged with several counts of drug trafficking and assault, and there’s two charges of murder,” Hayes said, not looking at me.
He was sitting at the head of his dining room table, laptop open, files and paperwork scattered around him.
I pressed my nails into my palm, waiting for more, and when he didn’t give it, I cleared my throat.
“You were up early this morning.” That dirty blond hair I loved so much was messy atop his head, his scruff thicker. He was wearing nothing but a pair of gray sweats. An empty coffee pot perched on the edge of the table.
“There’s a lot to get done,” he muttered distractedly, jotting something down.
I watched his hand work, knowing his to-do list was twice as long as mine.
The shooting at the university had made national news, and a few students had filmed the entire altercation.
In order to further protect me, Red Snake was working with the FBI and the press to spin the narrative that I was never involved with Gordon Samson.
This was to keep a target off my back as well as the press out of my business.
The first story hit the news yesterday evening while Hayes and I were cuddled on the couch.
They spun the story and stated that Gordon, under pressure from the FBI, sent his men to the campus to find a hostage.
This painted me as a random, unlucky bystander.
The FBI also instructed the media to keep out any mentions of Red Snake.
Gordon, after being treated for his injuries, had been transferred to a prison out of state.
He would remain there for the duration of his trial.
It was unclear whether he would serve his sentence there, but Hayes assured me that Gordon would never set foot on this side of the country again.
There was still a chance, if the other charges didn’t stick, that I would have to testify against him.
That worried me, but the boys assured me those chances were low.
Jake had been released from the hospital yesterday and was currently being held hostage at Dominic’s apartment.
Though Ash wanted Jake to stay with him, Jake refused because Ash had nowhere for him to sleep…
Ash’s apartment was practically empty aside from the mattress he slept on and the singular chair in his living room.
Carrie and I had gone over there to investigate, curious as to why Jake had said, “fuck no,” to staying…
“There’s nothing here,” I sputtered, gaping at the empty penthouse apartment that sat four floors above Hayes’.
“What the hell?” Carrie whispered, trailing her finger along the edge of the marble island. “Why is it so empty?”
I ventured into the master bedroom and stared at the king-size mattress on the floor dressed in light blue sheets and a dark blue comforter. The colors reminded me of the sea…and they were the only colors in this entire two-thousand square foot apartment. “This isn’t a home,” I whispered to myself.
“He doesn’t even have dishes!” Carrie shouted from the kitchen. I found her opening all the cabinets in a frenzy of disbelief and concern. “Why doesn’t he have any dishes or cookware? How does he eat?”
“Cardinal.”
My best friend turned to face me, her blue eyes wide with horror. I glanced at the fridge, and she followed my gaze. We shared a long look before I sighed and went to open it. “If there’s nothing in here, we have a problem,” she said, coming to stand beside me.
“You and I both know nothing is going to be in here,” I told her, opening the heavy doors.
Sure enough. Nothing. Not even a bottle of water.
“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “Why doesn’t—maybe he hasn’t finished moving in yet.”
I clicked my tongue. “Hayes told me Ash sold all of his shit when Red Snake decided to relocate to Portland.”
We shared another look, this time, a wave of sadness hitting us. Ash was the goofy guy. Sure, he was huge and could be scary when he needed to be, but around us, he was the one always trying to make us laugh.
“Something is wrong with Ash,” she concluded.
My thoughts drifted to the preacher’s wife. There had been no headway on that case, and though Red Snake had no intentions of giving up on her, there wasn’t much to go on.
“Margo?”
Shaking my head, I blinked and came back into the present. Hayes was out of his chair, coming toward me now. My eyes dropped to his abdomen, enjoying the way his muscles worked as he walked.
“You okay?” he asked, taking my chin between his fingers.
“I could ask you the same question,” I returned. “You’ve been distant since you brought me here.”
His hand fell away, the loss of his touch causing an ache in my heart. I crossed my arms and took a step back, looking at my black toenail polish, freshly painted. I wiggled my toes, trying to find the right way to approach this. “You’re not sleeping. You haven’t touched me—”