Page 48

I had to laugh as we stepped outside. It was close to sunset, though it never really got dark on the Strip, thanks to the lights that constantly blazed. My phone buzzed with a text from Jackson that brought a wider smile to my face.

Jackson: I’ll be a little late, but plan on me being there for dinner.

Of all things, I could never have guessed it would be Jackson Bennett sitting down to a home-cooked meal in Mom’s kitchen, listening to the details of Liam’s day, asking all the right questions. He took a genuine interest and never got bored.

And I didn’t get bored of watching the two of them interact. I could have watched them all day and never gotten tired of it. It was like they were making up for lost time, filling a hole in my heart I didn’t know was there.

“We’re having spaghetti for dinner tonight,” I told Luke as we approached my car in the lot. “I’m sure my mom will make twice as much as we need, so you’re more than welcome to have some.”

Luke took hold of the passenger side door handle, smiling until something over my shoulder made his face harden.

It happened so fast.

I was still wondering why he grabbed me and threw his body over me as something loud split the air. I hit the ground with a jarring thud that sent pain sizzling through me while that same cracking noise sounded again and again.

A car squealed when somebody hit the gas, but it was Luke’s strangled breathing that rang out in my ear over the frantic pounding of my heart. His large, heavy body was on top of mine, pressing me against the unforgiving pavement. Something coated my hand, wedged between us. A coppery odor filled my nostrils, familiar and unwelcome.

“Luke!” I gasped, trying to wiggle myself out from under him. It took roughly three seconds but felt like an eternity before I was able to suck in a deep breath.

And still, with the evidence of what happened all around me and fearful, excited shouts ringing out nearby, it took time to connect the dots. “Oh my God!” I gasped when he rolled from on top of me and revealed the blood soaking through his jacket, blood that had stained my clothes too. “Shot,” he managed to grunt, pressing his hand to the wound in his shoulder. It was no use, blood seeped from between his fingers, oozing relentlessly while he grunted and ground his teeth. “Bastards… shot…”

One of the stagehands ran over, babbling something about knowing first aid. “Call an ambulance,” I shouted instead, pressing both of my hands against his shoulder.

“You’re bleeding,” he shrieked.

“It’s not my blood,” I barked, staring down at Luke as he blinked rapidly while staring up at the sky.

“No, the back of your head. You were injured.”

I didn’t feel a thing. “I’m fine. Just get the damn ambulance.” Leaning down, I whispered, “Keep your eyes open. I don’t know what I’m doing, but I think you need to try to keep your eyes open. Please, try. Fight.”

“I’ll… be fine…” he whispered, almost laughing. “Hurts like hell.”

“I bet it does. Save your strength.”

He laughed softly again, meeting my gaze. “I really like spaghetti…” Still chuckling, his eyes drifted shut.

“No. No! Wake up,” I begged, but he gave no reaction.

So much blood.

Too much blood.

Coating my hands, pooling on the pavement, more of it with every beat of his heart.

“You’re going to want ibuprofen for the pain, but you should feel fine in a day or two.” The nurse offered a sympathetic smile that didn’t do much to soothe me. But she was doing her best, so I did my best to pretend she was helping.

“What about the man I came in with? How is he?” The more I thought about Luke, the harder my pulse pounded, and the worse the pain in the back of my head, shoulders, and tailbone became. The physical pain was nothing compared to what was tearing me apart inside. He had been shot because of me, because someone was aiming for me.

She tried to keep that positive little smile in place, but there was another truth in her gaze. “He was in pretty bad shape, and I believe they rushed him into surgery, but that’s the most information I have.”

“Thank you.” He had to be okay. It was bad enough he’d been shot protecting me. If he died? How could I live with that?

“Winter! Winter!” The sound of familiar shouting mixed with pounding footsteps told me the cavalry had arrived in the form of Jackson, now tearing down the hall until he found me sitting on a gurney in a curtained-off portion of the ER.

I winced when he threw his arms around me, making him loosen his grip, studying my face. “You’re in pain? What can we do?”

“Just give it time. That’s what the nurse said. I’m fine,” I insisted, since he didn’t look convinced. “Luke is the one in surgery right now.”