Chapter 19 Hunter
HUNTER
I open my eyes and blink a few times.
Where the hell am I?
What happened?
I turn my head to the side, finding Lizzy and Zoey asleep in chairs next to my bed.
It takes my mind a moment to realize I’m not at home and that I’m in the hospital. The last thing I remember is kissing Zoey outside the Hook & Hustle—and then nothing.
I lift my arm, taking in the tubes and cords that are tangled together.
Am I sick?
Did I have a heart attack?
Something bigger than passing out or else I wouldn’t be hooked up to a bunch of machines and…
I wince as I try to move. The muscles in my stomach protest at the slightest turn.
Shit.
My tongue is nearly stuck to the roof of my mouth as I open my mouth to say something, but I stop when my lips stick together.
How long have I been like this?
Zoey opens her eyes and glances at me. She bolts upright as her gaze widens. “Lizzy, he’s awake,” she says, flying out of the chair to my side. “Hunter, oh my God, Hunter. You’re awake.”
She stares at me like it’s a miracle that I opened my eyes. I wasn’t nervous before, but suddenly, I’m aware that shit has gone way south and whatever happened to me isn’t good.
“Am I…” I struggle to talk. My voice is more gravelly than it usually is, and it feels like I swallowed a mouthful of sand.
Lizzy’s at Zoey’s side before I can finish the sentence. “Thank God,” Lizzy breathes as her shoulders fall forward like she’s been holding the weight of the world on them.
“What…” I clear my throat, trying to force out whatever is lodged in there.
“Water,” Zoey says as she reaches for something on the table next to me. “Here.” She looks at me with so much emotion in her eyes, I wonder how close I really was to dying.
I take the cup from her hands, thankful my hands still work, but the cords make it hard to move as smoothly as usual. I lift my head, my abdominal muscles protesting as I do my best to move my mouth toward the cup. “Fuck,” I groan, but it comes out as a whisper.
I can’t take my eyes off my sister and Zoey as I take a few small sips, even though I want to down the entire glass. They’re staring at me, and it’s completely unnerving. I feel like a goldfish stuck in a tank with an audience gawking at it as it swims around.
“What happened?” I ask as I place my head back on the pillow, and Zoey takes the cup out of my hands.
“Well…” Lizzy winces. “You’re okay. I need you to know that.” She tilts her head, giving me a weird smile.
Oh boy.
“You were shot,” Zoey blurts out. “They got the bullet out, and you’re going to be okay.”
That’s the second time they’ve used the word okay.
“Where?” I ask, but I already know. I’ve worked out a lot in my life, but my gut has never been as sore as it is right now.
“Your abdomen, but it didn’t hit any vital organs,” Lizzy says.
I beg to differ, based on how I feel. The bullet banged off everything.
It all comes back to me then.
“Fuck,” I hiss as the memories flood back to me.
The bar.
Zoey.
Her twirling around in the snow.
The kiss.
God, the kiss.
The most amazing kiss of my entire life.
A loud noise.
Falling to the ground.
Zoey screaming over me.
The cold of the wet cement.
Everything goes black after that.
“Yeah,” Lizzy says with a small laugh as she touches my hand. “I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.”
“You’re here,” I ask, my voice filled with disbelief. “How long was I out?” If she’s here, it’s been well over six hours because that’s how long it takes to drive here under normal conditions.
“Twelve hours,” Lizzy says. “I was here quick, though. I got on the last flight of the night.”
“I’m sorry,” I tell her, but it’s not like I meant to be shot. What else is there to say when someone you love rushes to be by your bedside.
We went through enough trauma with our parents’ deaths to last us a lifetime. The last thing she needed was to get a phone call that I’d been shot. If she isn’t still in therapy, she’s about to start going again.
“Don’t be silly. It’s not like you did this on purpose. Or did you mean to jump in front of a bullet?” she asks as she sits down on my bed near my legs.
“It wasn’t on my bingo card for this year.”
My sister smiles at me and rubs my legs. “Didn’t think so.”
“I let everyone know he’s awake,” Zoey says beside me, typing away on her phone.
“Who’s everyone?”
“The family.”
She didn’t say her family, even though that’s what she means.
“They were all here until you got out of surgery.”
I must look at her funny because she adds, “My parents, Tate, Mason, Lulu. They were all here waiting with your sister and me.”
“Did everyone think I was going to die?” I ask her, hating that they all worried about me. But it’s kind of nice too.
That’s the rub when you lose your parents. Who’s left to care about you? Sure, I have Lizzy, but that’s a different kind of love and worry than a parent has for their child.
“We weren’t sure until the surgery was over and the doctor talked to us. That was the first time I felt like I could breathe,” Zoey explains.
I reach for her hand and take it in mine. “I hate that you were so worried.”
“It’s my fault,” she says quickly and quietly, unable to meet my gaze.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is, though.” She sighs, trying to pull her hand out of mine.
“How is that?”
“It was Mark. He’s the one who shot you.”
I blink, staring at her. “Mark?” I ask, dumbfounded.
Zoey nods and squeezes her eyes shut.
“Flowers Mark? Creepy stalker Mark?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “See? It’s my fault.”
My chest tightens at her words. It’s not her fault. She can’t control what that asshole does any more than I can, but I have a feeling that no matter what I say, she won’t stop blaming herself.
“He’s been arrested. The police were here early this morning to talk to Zoey about what happened, but they were able to confirm his ID from the security footage outside the bar,” my sister explains.
It dawns on me then.
I probably wasn’t his intended victim.
Zoey was.
Getting shot sucks, but never in a million years would I wish this on anyone else, especially Zoey. I’m glad, no matter how fucked up that sounds, that the bullet hit me and not her.
“Baby, look at me.” I squeeze Zoey’s hand, needing her to look into my eyes when I say these words.
For a moment, she doesn’t look, but I squeeze her hand again.
When her gaze finally slides to mine, I say, “It’s not your fault. And I’d take that bullet again if it meant that you were safe.”
Zoey sucks in a breath as her eyes water, and a single tear slips down her cheek.
“He’s in jail. He can’t hurt you now,” I tell her.
“But he hurt you,” she replies.
If I could take her emotional hurt away, I’d do that too, but all I can do is use my words and hope that’s enough.
“I’ll heal. I’m alive, aren’t I?”
“I thought you were going to die,” she whispers as she uses her free hand to wipe her face.
“But I didn’t. Mark’s not an issue anymore, and I’m fine.”
There’s a knock on the open door of my hospital room before Mason stalks in carrying three cups of coffee in one of those annoying coffee carriers.
“Shit,” he says as his eyes land on me. “I only brought three. Good to see you awake, brother.”
I like the guy. Sure, he has asshole qualities, but so do I, and I’m almost positive that mine outnumber his.
“I’ll stick with water for right now,” I tell him as I watch my sister push off the bed and rush in his direction.
“You’re the best,” Lizzy says to him as she takes one cup from his hands. “I don’t know how I’d function without this today.”
“I got you a quad,” Mason says, staring down at my sister in the way I know I stare at Zoey. “How long has he been awake?”
They’re talking softly like I couldn’t hear them, but the room is small and my hearing is good.
“Just a few minutes.”
“Is he okay?” he asks her.
“He’s good,” she tells him.
“I can hear you,” I grumble.
Zoey chuckles as she sits down next to me, careful not to jostle me too much.
“When can I go home?” I ask her, leaving Lizzy and Mason to talk.
“The doctor said, depending on how today goes, you may be able to get out of here tomorrow.”
I groan. I was hoping she’d say today. Hospitals give me the creeps, and I’d rather crawl into my bed or hers than stay here.
“How today goes?”
“They need to make sure you can go to the bathroom and get around on your own. They want to make sure your lungs are working right too.”
“Everything is fine,” I tell her with a small smile. It’s not, of course, but like hell would I say otherwise to her.
My gaze slides to my sister and Mason as they stand near the door.
“He was a huge help,” Zoey says. “He picked up your sister from the airport so she wouldn’t have to worry about getting to the hospital.”
“That was nice of him,” I tell her. Although he is a nice guy, it’s also because he’s sweet on my sister, and she’s sweet on him too.
“Do you mind more visitors?” Zoey runs her fingernails down the underside of my arm, causing my eyes to close.
The feeling is too damn good. Everything about this experience is uncomfortable, and the small touches, the raking of the fingernails, hit the right spots.
“Who?” I ask softly.
“The family wants to come and see you.”
My eyes fly open as my heart pounds in my chest. “No one told Amira, did they?”
Zoey shakes her head. “We didn’t want to worry her.”
I blow out a breath, hoping my heart will slow. “Good. Good. She doesn’t need to know about this.”
“I think she will the first time she sees you wince from pain,” Zoey replies.
“I can hide it.”
Zoey raises an eyebrow in challenge but doesn’t say anything else about it.
“Visitors are fine.”
It’s nice, even. Lucio and Delilah are great people, and they have even better kids. Lulu and Zoey would make any parents proud. They’re kind and caring with just enough saltiness not to be taken advantage of at every turn.