Page 56 of For Emery

“Can I see her?”

He nodded. “She’s been in and out of consciousness all day. They have her on heavy pain meds.” He stepped aside so I could continue down the hallway.

My feet felt like they were submerged in quicksand as I approached her room, each step becoming more difficult. The sterile hospital scent singed the inside of my nose. The shaking in my hands had nothing on the fear I had of seeing her. I dragged in a deep breath and stepped inside the room.

My mother slept under white sheets with only her face visible. It was good she was asleep because I couldn’t hide my horror. Her face was entirely black and blue and swollen. If I didn’t know it was her, she would’ve been unrecognizable. Vomit again crept up the back of my throat as I took in the sight of my poor battered mother. Tears glazed my eyes. Rage I didn’t know I was capable of feeling spread through me.

I approached her bed slowly and lowered myself into the empty chair beside her, transfixed on the damage Wayne had done.

I reached under the sheet and took her cold limp hand into mine. An IV was attached to the back of it, connected to a drip bag at her side. “I’m here, Mama.”

My mother’s eyes cracked open, and her head fell to the side on her pillow. She tried to smile but winced at the pain it caused her.

“Don’t say anything. I’m here now. Just rest.”

“I stood up to him,” she whispered.

I fought back the tears stinging my eyes and did my best to smile. “I know you did.”

She closed her eyes, and the even sound of her breathing indicated sleep.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I watched her sleep. What had she done to deserve a man like that? She’d once told me he swept in to rescue her after my real father died. She must have been so blinded by grief she didn’t see him for the man he was—a drunk with a violent temper. But that description no longer fit him. Finding her in Arizona and attacking her had been premeditated. There was no excuse. He couldn’t blame it on the alcohol. He’d plotted this. That made him a monster.

But where was he now?

The longer I sat there clutching my mother’s hand, the angrier I became. My tears subsided and my mind became clouded with revenge. With payback. With the pain I wanted inflicted on him. I was such a hypocrite. I’d shamed Jordan for using his fist on Flip, and now that’s all I wanted someone to do to Wayne. If not more.

Between the anger and the exhaustion, my eyelids eventually grew heavy.

An hour passed, and my pursuit to resist sleep failed me. I just needed to rest my head. I just needed to close my eyes for a minute. I lowered my head down on the bed.

I just needed a minute…

CHAPTER TWENTY

Emery

A hand cupped my shoulder. I jerked up and spun in my chair.

Jordan stood in the dark hospital room beside me, his eyes on my mother.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice groggy with sleep.

“Is she okay?” he said, squatting down beside the chair so not to wake her.

“He found her.”

His jaw clenched, and the ticking there made his anger palpable. “I should’ve killed him when I had the chance.”

“Jordan.”

“No, Em.” He gave me a sidelong glance. “I begged my parents to get him out of your house.”

“You did?”

“Of course I did. When the sheriff showed up, your mom told them everything was okay.”

“She did?”

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