Chapter 36
Thirty-six
Jameson
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I slowly peel my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent light. White ceiling. Sterile walls. The sharp tang of antiseptic in the air.
The slow rhythmic beat of a machine.
The hospital.
I shift, instantly regretting it. I hiss through my teeth, white hot pain shooting through my shoulder.
“Jameson?”
Wildflower.
I slowly turn my head, pain instantly forgotten when my eyes land on her.
She’s curled into the chair beside my bed, legs tucked under her, one hand clutching mine like she’s afraid if she lets go I’ll disappear.
Her hair is thrown up in a messy bun and she’s wearing one of my sweatshirts.
There is a gash along her cheek and some bruising around her eye that looks like it's going to get worse before it gets better.
She lets out a relieved breath. “You’re awake.”
“Hey, Wildflower.” I rasp out, voice cracked and raw. “What happened?”
Lane’s eyes water, and she squeezes my hand tighter. “You were shot.”
It all comes back to me. Byron. The gun. The burn of the bullet ripping through my shoulder.
I try to sit up. Dumb idea. Pain slices through my shoulder, and I grunt, my eyes squeezing shut.
Lane presses a gentle hand on my chest. “Don’t move,” she says softly. “You need to rest.”
I let my head fall back against the pillow. “Did I hit him?”
She nods. “Yeah. He’s gone.” Tears spill from her eyes. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault you got shot,” she says, voice cracking. “You almost died. We were so far from the hospital and you lost so much blood—”
“Come here, baby,” I murmur, shifting over enough to make room for her, gritting through the pain.
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Wildflower,” I warn. “I need you in my arms.”
She hesitates, only for a second before carefully climbing onto the narrow hospital bed next to me, her body curling into mine. I wrap my good arm around her and pull her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, breathing her in.
I thought I had lost her.
“It isn’t your fault, baby,” I murmur, into her hair. “You were so fucking brave. And so fucking smart. I’m so proud of you.” I tilt her chin up. “You got yourself out of that chair.”
Her voice is barely a whisper. “I was so scared”
“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere. And I meant it.”
I bring her lips to mine, kissing her. Soft and slow.
Relief crashes over me.
It’s over. She’s safe.
“Where are my parents?” I ask, surprised they aren’t both hovering around my bed.
She runs a gentle hand up and down my chest. “They are at home sleeping. Kam and Miles, too. They will be back in the morning.”
I glance down at her. “And why aren’t you there sleeping in a real bed instead of a hospital chair?”
She snuggles in closer, a content sigh leaving her lips. “Because I needed to be here when you woke up.”
“I’m here, baby. I’m okay and so are you,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head.
“We should get the nurse and let them know you are awake.”
She tries to reach for the call button, but I hold her tighter. “Not yet. Just lie with me for a while.”
She relaxes back into my arms. “Okay.”
I would get shot all over again as long as it ended with her in my arms. I got the girl, killed the bad guy, and now I have a badass bullet wound. Life is perfect.
“I love you, Wildflower.”
She smiles up at me. “I love you too.”
The next day, after my mom and Kam convince Lane to go back to the house for a few hours of sleep in an actual bed, Miles and Vic stay behind and fill me in on how the hell Byron ended up being our client.
He faked his death, with the help of his father. Setting Lane up to take the fall after finding out she was planning to leave him. His father used his position and power, along with some favors, to have the police and coroner's reports falsified.
Miles dug through his laptop and phone. Rodgers was the only other PI he hired, and he acted alone.
He told Lane he waited so long to enact his revenge because he was waiting until she least suspected it.
The truth: his father died a year ago. Finally breaking the invisible chains he kept on Byron and allowing him to move about freely.
It’s unclear if his mother was privy to him being alive or if she believes he died five years ago. Either way, she remarried five months after her husband’s passing to a much younger man and is now playing mother to his two children. Probably creating a whole new generation of psychopaths.
Byron sent Lane a message not long after we left Rodgers’ house, right after I had checked her location. He lured her out by telling her he had evidence that I killed Luke. He didn’t. He just assumed after Rodgers hacked the bar's cameras.
She was trying to protect me by sacrificing herself. But my girl wasn’t going down without a fight.
She worked the knot from the minute she woke up. Painstakingly working it with her fingertips until it was loose enough to slip her hands through and knock the gun away.
Clever girl.
I saw it in her eyes, the quick flash of determination. I was ready to take the shot, no matter what happened to me. As long as she was safe.
I knew Miles would come running the second he heard gunshots and get Lane to safety.
By some miracle, he only hit my shoulder; though it did some damage, which required surgery to repair. I lost enough blood to have me out for two days.
But none of that matters.
Because Lane is safe.
And there’s no one else coming for her.