Chapter 46
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Adalyn's throat ached, and the bright white light blinded her as she blinked her eyes open. She looked around the unfamiliar room, a low beep cutting through the silence every few seconds. It didn’t take long for her to recognize the medical-grade machines and the IV attached to the inside of her arm.
She turned her head to the right. Had she been able to, she would have smiled at the sight that greeted her.
Jaxon slept in a chair beside her bed, his head propped up on one fist. She thought she’d been dreaming before when she’d woken up for a few seconds and seen a handful of people, their faces hidden behind masks.
At the time, it had seemed like a nightmare, some alien-type movie that she’d seen years ago. All she’d been able to make out were the people’s shapes, backlit by bright lights. Their words were unfamiliar, barely registering over the buzzing in her ears.
Her entire body felt heavy with fatigue.
She licked her lips and tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft croak.
Next to her, Jaxon stirred. She watched as his eyes fluttered open and darted toward the door.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
He was always alert, on guard. Awake barely a second, he was ready to react to anything life threw at him.
Noticing that the door was still closed, his gaze swept the room, over the bed and up to her face. His eyes alighted on hers and widened with surprise. He jerked upright and leaned toward her, already reaching for her hand.
“Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”
She swallowed, but the soreness of her throat made it almost unbearable. She lifted one hand toward her throat, and Jaxon nodded.
“Hold on one second.” Reaching over her head, he hit the call button on the remote sitting next to her on the pillow. He pulled the chair closer to the bed and resumed his sitting position. His eyes never left hers as he grasped her hand tightly in his. “Does your throat hurt?”
She nodded, her eyebrows drawing together in question. Her mind still felt fuzzy and sluggish, as though she couldn’t quite wake up.
Jaxon grimaced. “I’m sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay.”
His words triggered a memory, and she bolted upright as Jaclyn immediately came to mind.
Oh, God. Her baby was missing. She reached frantically for him, her eyes searching his, pleading for answers.
Her mouth tried to form words, but nothing came out.
He seemed to know exactly what she was asking because he gripped her hand tightly, his voice low and soothing.
“Jaclyn is fine. She’s at home where she’s safe.”
She relaxed and fell back against the pillow.
Those had been some of the worst days of her life, and she wanted to never repeat them again.
She was thankful that Jaxon and his friends had brought her home where she belonged.
She started to ask him how he found her, but they were interrupted as the door opened.
A nurse strolled through, a smile on her face as she approached.
“Hey, glad to see you awake.”
Jaxon squeezed her hand and spoke up for her. “Her throat hurts. Is there anything you can give her?”
The nurse, whose name tag read Amanda, affected a sympathetic expression as she ventured closer and stopped next to her bed.
“That’s from the breathing tube we just pulled yesterday.
It will probably be tender for a couple of days.
” She smiled. “I can grab you some ice chips, though. Help hydrate you and soothe the ache.”
She nodded, and Amanda reached for a blood pressure cuff. It constricted around her upper arm, and she made a couple of notations on the iPad. “Vitals are looking good.”
She removed the cuff and replaced it, then patted her arm. “I’ll be right back. Need anything else?”
She shook her head, and Amanda left the room in search of ice chips. She turned back to Jaxon to find him studying her intently. “What?” she mouthed.
His mouth opened and closed, his gaze darting away for a second before meeting hers again. “Do you remember what happened?”
She closed her eyes for a second and thought about the past few days.
She remembered the helplessness she’d felt when the police showed up at the salon to tell her Jaclyn had been taken.
She remembered two days of searching and appealing to the public, hanging fliers, handing them to every person she met on the street, and conducting the press conference.
She remembered staring at Jaclyn’s picture, wondering where she was and if she was safe, praying that she’d be found soon.
The picture.
Oh, God. Jenn. Jaxon. The gun. Images flashed before her eyes in rapid succession as it all came flooding back. She had to know. Somehow she managed to croak out the words. “Is she…”
“You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
Her eyes drifted closed again as Jaxon grasped her hand tightly. Exhaustion clung to her, pulling her under, and she finally gave in.
Adalyn pulled Jaclyn into her arms again, needing to feel her slight weight against her. Even though barely fifteen minutes had passed since she’d last held her, it had been too long. She hugged her tight, and Jaclyn squirmed in her hold, wriggling to get down and play.
Reluctantly, she set her on her feet and watched as she ran away. Part of her wanted to haul her back to her and never let her go again. But she couldn’t hold her back because of her own insecurities.
Jaclyn seemed to have no memory of what happened.
And thank God for that. Kids were so resilient—much more so than adults.
She would never remember the events that had transpired over the past few days.
Adalyn, on the other hand, would never forget.
Every time she saw Jaclyn’s precious little face, she’d see that photograph of her tear-stained cheeks, eyes filled with misery.
Her heart tugged, and she vowed to destroy that photograph. She didn’t want any physical reminders of what had happened. From now on, she’d make sure Jaclyn was safe at all times so nothing like that ever happened to her again. She would never let her out of her sight.
As she watched Jaclyn play with her toys, she couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. And she knew exactly what it was. Or, rather, who it was.
Jaxon had been fairly distant the past few days since Adalyn had awoken in the hospital. He’d encouraged her to come spend some time with Jaclyn alone, and he’d left immediately after dropping her off that morning. He hadn’t said much, and he hadn’t touched her except when absolutely necessary.
She knew he was struggling to come to terms with everything. He blamed himself for allowing this to happen; she knew that much. Somewhere between consciousness and dreams, she’d heard him quietly berating himself as he kept vigil by her bedside.
She wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault and tell him she needed him there by her side.
She couldn’t quite shake her unease. Even though her house looked normal, it still wasn’t the same.
It didn’t feel the same without him there.
The carpet had been replaced, but she’d noticed it was just a shade darker.
The walls had been cleaned, possibly even repainted.
She knew because the small scuff she’d left when moving the couch was no longer visible.
She couldn’t remember the exact details no matter how hard she tried.
She figured that was for the best. Jenn had hurt all of them.
Now she was gone. There was no more justice to be exacted.
She’d lost her mind over a guy. It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened.
People did crazy things for love—or obsession.
For the rest of the afternoon, Adalyn idly watched Jaclyn. They made dinner together, then she got her ready for bed. With each hour that passed, her heart sank a little more. Jaxon hadn’t called or texted. She’d gone so far as to invite him for dinner, but he hadn’t bothered to respond.
Was he done with her already? Had he realized she wasn’t worth the trouble?
That they weren’t worth the trouble? Once more, she thanked God that Jaclyn wouldn’t remember the time she’d spent with him.
Her heart would take a little longer to reconcile the loss, but that didn’t matter. She’d always put Jaclyn first.