Page 96 of King

“D-Damien,” I call.

“Ssh, Little Mama. I’ll handle this." Zane looks over his shoulder, tilting the gun to the side. "He won’t be able to hear anything where he’s going."

Damien’s smirk turns into devilish laughter like he's welcoming death, Zane’s finger on the trigger. “Do it,” he says. “Pull the fucking trigger you lowlife fuck.”

When Damien glances my way something in me changes. Pushing myself off the floor, I don't register where I'm going until I'm in front of that gun.

BANG!

Zane’s eyes go wide the minute a slap of cold lands on my side. I fall to the floor, Damien’s hand under my arm.

“Jo?” Damien calls. “Jo!”

There’s blood on his hand.

There’s blood on the floor.

“Fuck. No,” I hear Zane’s voice. “No. No. No...”

“Get the fuck out of here!” Damien’s voice is the loudest I’ve ever heard but the room is a blur. It’s fuzzy. And I’m cold. So cold. “Hang in there. I have you. I'm right here.” His hand lands on my face, but he feels distant. Hardly there, “Fuck. Jo? Jo!”

The room goes black.

Twenty-Seven

“This is tap water. Do you have anything bottled? Preferably from Fiji?"

The drawl of Damien’s voice is the first thing I hear when I’m stirred awake. There’s beeping around me. The bed underneath me is stiff, and there’s an IV in my arm.

“No kid,” a woman’s voice responds. “We don’t.”

“Jo?” I look to my right as a cold hand reaches for mine. His shirt is still bloody, dark hair a mess. I've seen Damien look rumpled and crumpled but never like this. The circles under his eyes are darker than ever and his hair looks like a bird's nest. But I kinda like him like this. He must see my smile because he smiles back. “You’re awake.”

“There she is!” A nurse comes in wheeling a tray of equipment. “Doctor will be right in. We have to run some tests. How are you feeling?” She turns to Damien. “Do you mind waiting outside?”

“I can wait right here.” Damien folds his arms and I can’t help but roll my eyes.

“It’s okay, I'll be fine,” my voice is a hoarse whisper.

He glances at the nurse before he drops his arms, rising from his seat pushed against the bed. “She needs anything you come to me.”

The nurse smirks, curly hair on her head kept in place by a pencil. “Yes sir.”

Damien disappears through the door and that’s when I realize I’m in my own room. It's teeny and reminds me of the cell I was in, brick walls painted white and pink.

“Your boyfriend is quite the protector.” The nurse wraps a velcro sleeve around my arm.

I want to tell her that he’s not my boyfriend. But I’m too hoarse and exhausted to. Instead, I let my head hit the pillow, looking up at the blinding fluorescent lights. The room smells like disinfectant, beeping coming from the machine to my right.

He’s not my boyfriend but he did show up for me. Damien was right there the minute I opened my eyes. That’s worth something, right? He followed me to The Grove and for an ERA elite, that’s not easy.

The nurse runs the tests and when the doctor comes in, he tells me that the bullet wasn’t in deep. They were able to retrieve it. He tells me I’ll be fine but notifies me of the recovery time and to take it easy. I ask him to reiterate that to the guy outside and he says he was already demanded to tell him.

On cue, Damien comes back in, leaning on the door with folded arms. The doctor looks at Damien then back at me before he nods. “I’ll be back to check on you in a couple of hours.”

“Hours?” Damien asks. “Then can you move her to a bigger room? On the top floor actually?”

The doctor looks at him, raises an eyebrow and then laughs. It’s loud enough that it echoes down the hall. “Thanks, kid,” he says between his chuckles. “I haven’t laughed all day.” The doctor continues his laughter as he gets outside the door.

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