Chapter 20 #2
Well, the bed part had kind of turned out to be true.
After Josiah had passed out, she’d been unable to hold back her tears, all her fear about losing him coming out in huge gut-wrenching sobs. Not ideal since a bullet had literally plowed into her chest.
Okay, so it had been stopped by the Kevlar, but she’d never spent much time thinking about how a bulletproof vest worked in real life. Just because it could stop a bullet from piercing flesh didn't mean it could prevent injury.
And it hadn't.
The pitch-black bruise spiraling out around her heart was proof of that.
Several of her ribs had been broken by the bullet, and it literally hurt to do everything. To breathe, to move, even lying completely still, taking the tiniest breaths she could imagine was utter agony.
In the end, as she’d been lying in Rex’s arms, sobbing as she watched the rest of the SEALs work on Josiah, keeping him from bleeding out, switching from apologizing to Rex for hitting him to begging Josiah not to die, someone had sedated her.
When she finally woke up, she was in the hospital.
Of course, her first words had been asking about Josiah, and the relief she felt when she heard he was also in the hospital would remain with her forever.
“You know, they told me that the bullet didn't do any damage.
That it went straight through and didn't touch any of your internal organs.
They said that you're going to be okay, that your body is just resting after surgery, but you should know that I'm not going to believe it until you wake up and tell me yourself,” she murmured to the man in the bed.
Her doctor had forbidden her from leaving her bed, but she’d thrown a most un-Chelsea-like fit until the older woman relented and agreed to let her go to Josiah’s room.
For that, she was grateful because she was pretty sure the woman could have just had her sedated again and not had to put up with her begging and pleading.
Maybe the doctor was a romantic at heart.
Like she’d always been.
This couldn’t be the end of her and Josiah’s story, it was supposed to be the beginning.
“Hey, how’re you doing?” Rex asked as he strode into the room.
At over six feet tall, the SEAL was only a little shorter than Josiah, and with his black hair and dark eyes, and the tattoo peeking out from his T-shirt sleeve, he could be an intimidating presence if you didn't look past that to the softness in his gaze. His touch had been gentle when she’d been sobbing in his arms, and he’d kept assuring her that Josiah wasn't going to die.
At the time, she hadn't believed him.
Even now she had doubts.
It was more than twelve hours later, and Josiah was still asleep.
Totally normal the doctor assured her, but what if they were just lying to her? What if he was a lot worse off than they were pretending, and they just didn't want to upset her by telling her the truth?
“You're panicking again,” Rex said as he came up behind her chair and began to massage her tense shoulders.
“You sure you want to be that close to me, given I almost broke your jaw last time?” It was hard to make the joke, but she was trying her best not to fall into a full-blown panic.
Rex chuckled. “Not quite a strong enough hit to break my jaw. When you’re all healed, we’ll work on it.”
“You want me to be better at hitting someone?”
“Want you to be safe,” Rex corrected. “Although Eagle is definitely doing a good job at teaching all his employees self-defense.”
“Guess his nagging paid off,” she agreed.
Her gaze was still fixed on Josiah’s sleeping face.
For once in all the years she’d known him, he finally looked at peace.
There were no furrows in his forehead, no lips pulled into a tense line.
She wished he could always be this peaceful, but more than that, she wished he would wake up.
Just for a moment. Just to tell her he was okay.
“He is going to be okay. The bullet didn't do much damage. He lost a bit of blood, but it was nothing life-threatening. Once his body recovers a bit, he’ll wake up. When he does, he’s going to be pretty angry to find out you're injured and not giving your body the rest it needs.”
“Then he can be angry. I'm not leaving.”
“I'm glad he has you, you're good for him.”
“I hope I am, I try to be,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the SEAL and wincing at the piercing pain in her chest.
“Special ops world is pretty small, you know that, so we all know what happened to his team, what he lost, and how it affected him.
He told you he loved you. He took off that vest that none of us even knew he was obsessed with, but now all understand why he was.
He did that for you because he loves you.
I'd say you're doing better than try, you're giving him everything he didn't even know he needed.” After one last squeeze of her shoulders, he headed for the door.
“Try to get some rest, and call if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Rex, for everything you and your team did for me and Josiah, for Ava, for Isabella, for Teresa, for helping us bring down that ring so they can't hurt anyone else.”
“Our pleasure.”
Alone again with Josiah, she reached over and trailed her fingertips across his brow. “Everyone keeps saying you're going to be okay, but I need you to wake up and say it. Please.”
Tears blurred her vision, and she thought that’s all it was at first, but then it happened again. A twitch in his eyes. Then his lashes were fluttering on his cheeks.
Next thing she knew, she was looking down into Josiah’s dark eyes.
Relief had the floodgates opening, and Chelsea didn't even care that crying made it feel like her chest was on fire.
“You can't take it back,” she told him.
“Take it back?” he croaked, sounding totally confused.
“You said you love me, and I won't let you take it back.”
A slow smile curled up his lips. “Not going to take it back.”
More relief flooded her system, and she cried even harder as she reached for the glass of water with the straw that was sitting on the small table beside his bed. Holding the straw to his lips, she let him take a few mouthfuls before setting it down.
Josiah’s dark gaze traveled her body. “You were hurt. Should be resting.”
“Had to be here with you,” she answered simply.
After studying her for a long moment, his forehead crinkled into the familiar Josiah frown. “You're in pain.”
“Some broken ribs,” she explained. “But I'm going to be okay. You saved my life.”
“Broken ribs suck. You're going to take longer to heal than I am,” Josiah said, tutting in dissatisfaction. Shifting slightly, moving the tubes and wires connected to his body out of the way enough that he could lift the sheet, he fixed her with one of his don’t bother arguing with me stares. “Hop in.”
“Don’t think I'm supposed to do that. You were shot, you need to rest, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The only way I'm resting is if I know you are.” When she still hesitated, he reached over and took her hand, wincing as he did so. “Get in the bed, Chelsea. Now.”
Because there really wasn't any other place she’d rather be anyway, she stood slowly, gasping at the excruciating pain that spiraled out from her chest. Josiah grumbled, and she almost smiled at his typical annoyed sound.
Sighing in relief when she settled onto the mattress beside him, she didn't even care if the bed wasn't really big enough for two adults.
Josiah was alive, she was alive, Desiree Tilly was dead, the organ trafficking ring was dismantled, little Bridget was somewhere safe where she could receive the medical care she needed and be well looked after, pain aside, life was pretty good.
Exhaustion took hold, and she drifted off with a smile on her face.