Chapter 2
HUNTER
I’m in the hotel restaurant, on the phone with Jonah. He rushes to get his words out.
“Go to our local news station’s website. They’re playing the video feed as the major story.” Jonah sighs. “Shit. It is Dori.”
“What’s Dorothy? I’m not where I can pull up the website.” I jump out of my seat. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Jamison and Dori were involved in a shooting at the park near work.”
My mind falters and I take off running. “Dammit, Jonah. Is she okay?”
“I think so. It’s hard to say because she’s covered in blood, but from what I can see of her, she seems to be fine. That’s not the word I’d use, but she’s moving and yelling for help.”
My vision blurs. I stop and lean against the wall to stabilize myself. “What do you mean, she’s covered in blood?”
“The footage is of her crawling out from underneath Jamison. She’s wearing a white vest jacket. One side of it’s covered in blood, but from what I can tell, she’s not injured.”
My heart rate comes down a notch. “And Jamison?”
“It doesn’t look good. Some guy steps in to help him. The video cuts away when the police get there. I can’t believe they showed such graphic material.”
“You said someone stepped in to help him. What happened?”
“The video starts, and Jamison’s lying on top of Dori. He appears to be limp, like he’s sleeping. The clip shows Dori underneath him, trying to push him off her. It’s clear he’s unconscious. Once the guy rolls him over, it shows Jamison covered in blood. It’s all over his face and chest.”
“Can you tell where he was hit?” I clutch my phone harder, shaking my head at myself.
How did I not see this coming?
Jonah pauses for a moment. “Not really. I’m assuming somewhere high on Jamison’s chest from where the guy helping him is focused on.”
“What side was he shot?”
“The right side. He wasn’t hit near his heart.”
“That’s the only good news you’ve told me.”
“This is bad, Hunter.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m coming home. Will you arrange the jet for me while I try to reach Dorothy?” I push off the wall and hurry to my suite.
“Consider it done. I’ll text you when they’re ready for you.”
“Thanks.” I hang up and dial Dorothy’s number.
She doesn’t answer and my stomach lodges in my throat.
What if she was hurt and Jonah saw it wrong?
I try calling her three more times before I throw my phone against the wall. It shatters into pieces.
“Fucking, great.” I grind on my molars and rake my hands through my hair.
Now I have no way of reaching her or communicating with anyone. I roll my eyes as my frustration mounts.
I thought I was making strides in managing my fears, but the visceral intensity of my reaction to this situation—a cold sweat breaking out, my stomach clenching, and a strangled growl catching in my throat—reveals a different truth.
Clearly, I still have a lot of work to do. I pack and go to the airport, praying the jet will be ready soon while trying to find some way to hold myself together. I’m a mess as my thoughts slam around in my head.
What the fuck happened?
Why were Dorothy and Jamison together?
Why was she covered in blood?
What if he dies?
My mind spins out of control while I wait. I check my watch a dozen times. By my calculations, I’ll get to the hospital eight hours after we take off. It feels like a lifetime away.
Thankfully, I don’t have to wait that long before we’re in the air. I take out my laptop and connect to the internet.
My first order of business is to email Jonah and explain what happened with my phone. The next is to find the news coverage of the shooting.
Just thinking about the attack has my blood running cold. My gut is telling me this wasn’t a random mishap in a park. The problem is, I’m not sure if the bullets were meant for Jamison or Dorothy.
Ava warned me my mother was too calm about us backing out of our agreement to get married and produce an heir. And Dorothy thought someone was following her last week. This incident has my mother’s signature all over it.
But why?
I have no clue.
Why would my mother want to hurt Dorothy or Jamison?
Unless she’s trying to hurt Dorothy to get to me. That’s what makes the most sense, but Jamison was given the betting chip.
It’s unclear if Ava gave it to him because she was supposed to or if she did that to scare me into believing she had Jamison helping her. I make a mental note to speak to her about this.
Is the shooting my fault?
I have to face it. This falls back on me. The weight of knowing that has me leaning forward and rubbing my temples. Getting Jamison caught in the crossfire, fighting for his life has me buried in guilt.
My stomach roils as I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Jamison unknowingly inserted himself in whatever plan my mom had when he met with Ava to dig up dirt on me. I warned him to watch his back, but he refused to listen.
My face heats as I conclude I might be responsible in some way. Shame floods through me.
With all my nerves firing off, telling me I’m dealing with a mob woman I can’t handle, I find the video feed Jonah told me about. I’ve got to see for myself what my mother is capable of.
I find the news story and hit play. The scene is enough to make my heart sink. It’s worse than Jonah let on.
Jamison appears lifeless as someone tries to help him, and Dorothy’s face is smeared with blood. Her clothes are covered in it, from her neck down to her jeans.
She won’t stop crawling to Jamison and trying to lie on top of him. The traumatic incident and seeing her helplessly try to get to him are enough to break me in half.
My heart shrinks. She’s been hanging by a thread, knowing Isabella is claiming to be pregnant with my kid. Now this. This is going to put her over the edge.
I wish with every bone in my body I was there to help her through this. She’s going to need all the support she can get. I can only hope she’ll let me take care of her.
I had to leave town the day after I told Dorothy about Isabella’s pregnancy. Since then, our conversations have been strained and brief.
This is going to be the last straw. I try to talk myself out of the thought, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Dorothy ends our relationship after this.
My pulse quickens, and my blood heats with that revelation. My brain goes into overdrive. I need to regain control of my life and figure out how to do it fast.
I get one of my crew’s attention and ask for a scotch. My nerves are like a live wire, shocking me every few seconds. I’m jumpy and sweaty, not knowing how I’m going to make it through this flight.
Halfway home, Jonah emails me with a conference line for us to connect. I click the link and the screen fills with Jonah on the other side of the camera.
“Good thinking, little brother.” I lean in, not recognizing the background. “Where are you?”
“The hospital’s cafeteria. I left the waiting room where everyone was and came down here to speak with you alone. Tell me how I can help.”
I stay near the screen, my blood pulsing hard. “How’s Dorothy?”
“She was shot in the shoulder, but she’s fine other than that.”
Fuck.
The fact she was injured is too close to me losing her.
Fear races through my veins. “She was hit? How bad?”
“It was just a graze. She got stitches, and they released her.”
Instantly, my muscles release as relief takes over. I rest back in my seat. “What about Jamison?”
“He was shot in the back and head. The bullet made a clean exit out of his chest, and the head wound was only surface level.” Jonah stares at me. “He’s fighting for his life.”
“Fuck. Keep me posted on his status.”
“Done.”
I grasp the arms of my seat to brace myself. “Jonah, don’t sugarcoat it. How is she mentally? ”
“Not good. She won’t leave the hospital. She’s in tattered clothes that are covered in blood and she’s carrying a bag of Jamison’s belongings around.”
“I need to be there for her.” I pull in a deep breath. “Is she aware of my phone issues?”
“Yes. But she’s a shell of a person, so I’m not sure how much she’s retaining. She won’t eat and barely speaks. I’ve never seen her like this, Hunter. I’m really worried about her.”
My head falls forward. “This is the last thing she needs.”
“Top it off with his ex hanging around and I’d say that’s the last thing she needs.”
My head snaps up. “His ex is there?”
“Yes. Dori had Jamison’s friend call her. She got here right after he coded. She won’t leave now.”
The blood drains from my limbs. “Jamison coded? Does that mean what I think it means?”
“He lost too much blood, and they lost him for a minute. Like I said, he’s fighting for his life.” Jonah glances off to the side.
“Jonah, can you do me a favor?”
He faces the camera. “Anything.”
“Can you get me a new phone and let my driver know when I’ll land? I need to get to the hospital as fast as I can.”
“I’ll have your phone here waiting for you. When can I expect you?”
I check my watch. “I should be there in three hours or so.”
“Yeah, we’ll be here. Jamison’s still in surgery, but they found the blood they need, so that’s the plus side.”
“The blood he needs?”
“Yeah. They used most of what they had at this hospital and had to call blood banks to get more.”
This conversation keeps getting worse. “Holy fuck.”
“Yeah, we’re all praying he makes it out alive.”
I nod. “One more thing.”
“Yeah? What? ”
“Keep an eye on Jamison’s ex. She’s hit Dorothy before and I don’t want her to get near her.”
“I don’t see that as a problem. Dori’s not talking to anyone.”
My stomach rolls into a ball. “Just monitor the situation. Until I can get there, I need to know Dorothy’s protected.”
“Consider it done.” Jonah turns his head to the side and does a double take. “Hey, Mel. What’s going on?”
I wait for them to have a brief exchange about needing to eat. I’m not even there and I can’t imagine eating.
There’s no way Dorothy will either, but I’ll address that once I see her. I disconnect with Jonah and go through my emails to preoccupy myself.
One from Isabella catches my eye. No part of me wants to open it, but I do anyway.