Page 110 of Wanted

Jude

Three thousand one hundred and eighty-two.

28

Jude

The irony as I rush into Fairview Valley hospital, the place I brought Frankie the first day I saw her, isn’t lost on me. I park Corjan’s SUV in nearly the same spot, feeling a similar uncertainty pump through my veins.

“Powell, Frankie, Franklynn Powell, shit, I mean, Frankie Zelmen. She came in with Aiden Powell. My brother and.. and… she’s my fiancée.”

I don’t know for a fact they came in together, but I know there’s no way my brother would have left her alone. Someone had to call Cortney, which means the rest of my family might be here too.

“Fourth Floor, Room 413,” the receptionist says.

I run down the hall to the bank of elevators and repeatedly stab the button with my thumb. When one doesn’t open quickly enough, I burst through the door to the fire escape stairwell.

As I take the stairs two at a time, my lungs burn with the effort. My quads feel like a fire resides deep in the muscle. My heart beats so hard I can hear the throbbing in my ears. None of it matters.

All I care about is getting to her.

Frankie’s smile flashes in my mind. The sensual tilt of her lips. The trust in her brown eyes as she lay in my bed this morning. The way her white-blond hair fans across my pillow while she sleeps in my arms.

She’s going to be okay, and I’m never going to take another second with her for granted again.

I burst through the door on the fourth floor with an almighty bang and continue my path down the hall. The double doors next to the reception open as I slap the automatic button.

“Whoa, Jude.” Someone touches my arm. I flinch and whirl around.

Jack stands behind me. His face is pallid, and red rims his eyes.

“Where is she?” I know I look wild, but I couldn’t give a fuck. The raging storm of emotions inside me won’t settle until I see her.

“She’s in the room with Aiden,” he rasps.

Christ. They both must have been hurt.

“Hey, wait!” someone yells as I take off.

I dash through the open doors and down the hall, nearly tripping over myself at 413. I grab the doorframe for leverage and throw myself inside the room.

My chest deflates like a pricked balloon.

Frankie sits in a recliner beside a hospital bed, feet in the seat, knees tucked up to her chin, eyes closed as she rests her head.

“Baby,” I choke. I don’t stop moving until I drag her into my arms, and together, we sink to the floor. My kneecaps crack against the linoleum, but I don’t feel anything.

“Jude,” she exhales, burying her face in my neck.

My limbs begin to shake, the overdose of adrenaline leaking from my system. I shake so hard that my teeth chatter, and my breath stutters from my lungs.

“Goddammit, Frankie.”

The weight of her in my lap, the warmth of her, I bury my nose in her hair and just breathe her in.

Her palms cup my cheeks. She brushes her thumb against the bone, spreading wetness along the skin.

I cast my eyes at the ceiling, looking for the source. Not finding one, I meet her red, raw eyes and realize it came from me.

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