11. Jagger
JAGGER
I shifted in the hospital bed and stifled a groan when my body screamed.
I was sore all over, but it was the deep slice in my back that hurt the most. It was stitched closed and, according to Doctor Sterling, healing, but unless I wanted to lie on my stomach — and I didn’t — it sent a rocket of pain through my body every time I moved.
The burn on my arm hurt too, but it was easier to keep that immobile, and I was just relieved I wouldn’t need skin grafting. I probably should have accepted the heavy-duty pain meds Doctor Sterling had offered me, but the truth was I didn’t want to be out of it.
Didn’t want to take my eyes off Cassie.
I knew Bram had stationed people around the hospital — and outside it too — because Cassie had told me, but between her near-death experience on the mountain, Anna’s murder, and the ambush at the paper mill, I didn’t trust anybody to keep her safe.
The door to my room opened and she entered like I’d conjured her.
She never stopped taking my breath away, and I drank in her long copper-colored hair, loose around her shoulders, and the face that had been a beacon of light when I’d been swimming through my sedation in my first twenty-four hours at the hospital.
And I must have been healing, because my dick stirred at the sight of her luscious tits peeking out of her white T-shirt, her thighs poured into jeans that only made me think about peeling them off.
“Morning,” she said, setting down her bag.
She leaned in to kiss me and I caught a whiff of her shampoo, then the hint of vanilla and coffee that seemed embedded in her skin even though I knew she hadn’t been working at the coffee shop.
My mouth watered. And not because I wanted vanilla or coffee.
“Morning,” I said after I’d lingered over her lips just long enough to make me harder. “You shouldn’t be here.”
She reached into her bag. “Wow, you’re such a charmer. I feel so wanted.”
“If you want to feel how much I want you, just reach under this sheet,” I said.
She frowned. “I’m not coming anywhere near that thing until your stitches are out.”
“Fine, but you just left two hours ago. You need some real sleep in a real bed. You don’t need to be here every minute, especially not in my room or Vigo’s.”
I hadn’t been able to see Hawk but I knew he was in bad shape, knew he was still heavily sedated after the second surgery to remove the packing around his liver. I also knew he’d coded the first day, that he’d almost died.
I’d rather Cassie spend more time at home in one of our beds or outside in the sun, but if she was going to be at the hospital at all she should be with Hawk.
“They’re changing his bedding,” she said. “I’ll go back up in a while.”
“How is he this morning?”
“Doctor Sterling said his vitals are better now that the packing is out. They might try to start bringing him out of sedation today.”
I nodded. “Good.”
It was hard to imagine Hawk immobile and unconscious. He was going to be fucking pissed when he woke up.
Cassie set a book on the table next to my bed. “Here’s that book you asked for.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I don’t suppose you brought any donuts? Or pastries?”
She looked at the telltale bag near the window that said Maeve had already been there. “Maeve said she was going to bring you breakfast.”
“She did, but she seems to think we need ‘healing food.’ And it’s fine — I can totally demolish one of Maeve’s breakfast bowls and her fruit salad — but sometimes you just need a donut.”
“Sorry,” Cassie said, sitting in the chair next to my bed. “No donut, but I’ll bring you a chocolate pudding at lunch and try to bring you a donut tomorrow.”
“You’re an angel. Now come sit on my bed so I can really look at you.”
“Your back will hurt worse if I sit on the bed.” There was a stubborn set to her jaw. “I’m not hurting you.”
“It’s hurting me more not to touch you.”
She sighed and got to her feet, then gingerly lowered herself to my bed.
Her body weight caused the barest of shifts in the mattress, but I forced myself not to show the pain that rocketed through my body at the friction on the wound on my back.
I hadn’t been lying: nothing hurt more than not touching her.
I reached for her hand with my unscathed arm. “I need to tell you something.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Please tell me you and Vigo haven’t gotten into trouble. You can barely move!”
“I can’t speak for Vigo, but I’ve been a very good boy.” I grinned at her. “Although if you come a little closer I’d be happy to change that with my good hand.”
“In your dreams.”
I grinned. “Totally.”
She shook her head and I was happy to see a smile ghost her lips. She’d been through so much, and I hated that for her.
“What do you have to tell me?” she asked.
I stroked the velvety skin of her hand with my thumb. “Something I should have said before those fuckers tried to blow us to pieces.” I looked in her eyes because I wanted her to know the words I was about to say were true. “I love you.”
“I know.”
I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. “Really? Wow, okay. I have to admit, that wasn’t the reaction I expected. I mean, I don’t need cartwheels or anything but…”
“You told me,” she said. “When I first saw you after they brought you in.”
“I don’t remember that.”
She leaned over carefully and touched her lips to mine. It was reflex to try and slip my tongue inside but she wasn’t having it.
“Then you might not remember that I said I love you too,” she murmured against my lips.
“You did? You do?”
She pulled back a little to look at me. “I did. I do. And before you ask, yes, I love Vigo too, and Hawk, so be a good boy and share.”
I smiled because the joke was on her: I’d have given my left nut to have even a sliver of her love.
“I’m not usually a good boy, but I think I can comply in this one regard.” I reached up to touch her face and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Cass.”
She smiled. “I love you too.”
For a minute, we just stared into each other’s eyes like a couple of lovestruck teenagers, and I had to be honest, I didn’t mind it one fucking bit.
Then she leaned back, still holding my hand.
“Bram’s goons still out in the hallway?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “They’re not goons. You know Titus and Jett.”
“They’re goons when they’re working for Bram. I’m half expecting to be shivved in my sleep.”
My heart sang at the sound of her laughter.
“Bram put them there to protect you and Vigo,” she said.
“To ‘protect’ us.” I put the word “protect” in air quotes.
“We talked actually.”
“You and Bram?”
She nodded.
“About what?”
“About everything,” she said. “He apologized.”
“He apologized?” I lifted my uninjured arm to rub my thumb against my cheek. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy here? Giant with a glare that could freeze a wildfire?”
“That’s the one.”
“And? How was it?”
“It was…” She drew a breath. “It was really good actually. And get this: he knew all about Dimitri Kaprolov.”
I raised my eyebrows. “You’re kidding.”
She shook her head. “Turns out we were working the same puzzle from different angles.”
She told me about Ethan Todd’s connection to Maeve. “Ethan Todd changed his name before he became famous, but he was from Blackwell Falls. He went to Aventine on scholarship even though he wasn’t a member of a crime family.”
“How does that work?” I asked.
“Someone sponsored him for a scholarship. Any guess who?”
“Kaprolov?”
“Yep. And there was something else: a phone was found on the dead guy at the paper mill.”
I sat up straighter and winced.
She touched my arm. “Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this now.”
“We’re definitely talking about this now,” I said. “It’s the first time since I got to this place that I’ve been able to talk about something besides medication and burn protocols.”
“Bram has a source inside Blackwell PD who gave him a phone they found on the dead guy. He can’t get into it yet, but he knows someone who might be able to.”
“Aloha.”
She sighed. “Of course you already know.”
“Everybody knows Aloha.”
“Clearly.”
“If Aloha can get into the phone, we might be able to confirm Dimitri sent those assholes to kill us at the paper mill,” I said. “We might even be able to figure out where to find him.”
“Then what?”
“Then we end that motherfucker for good.”