Page 123 of Burn With Me

“It’s okay, son. You’re gonna be okay. Ginny will keep you in line. Ain’t that right?” Scott tries to joke. Calling Jackson his son makes the man I love cry harder. My tears fall faster as I look down at the man who has been more like a father to me in the past year than Calvin has most of my life.

“You’regoing to keep him in line, Scott. You’re not going anywhere,” I tell him as I put more pressure on his wound.

“Will you sing for me?” he asks. His eyes are glassy, and his attention moves from me to the ceiling. “You know the song.”

“I’m a shit singer, and you know it,” I attempt to joke. He tries to laugh but coughs instead, more blood bubbling from his mouth.

My voice hitches and keeps cracking as I poorly sing the first few bars of his and Sadie’s wedding song. When I get to the chorus, Jackson surprises me by chiming in through his tears, and his voice is just as pitchy as mine as a smile spreads over Scott’s face.

His body shudders, and our voices die out just as the commotion of the paramedics arriving fills the apartment.

Scott’s chest stops moving as someone gently pushes me out of the way.

Jackson’s cries grow louder, and he starts to fight against a man who is trying to pull him from his uncle’s body.

“Is that her blood or his?” I hear someone ask. Their voice sounds far away, and the edges of my vision blur and darken.

“Ginny!” Jackson shouts.

Then everything goes dark.

Jackson

“I’ve told you multiple times, Mr. Tailor–”

“I’m the closest thing to family she has! Her foster brother was just arrested for trying to sexually assault her and for murdering my uncle!”

I fucking hate hospitals. I understand the protocol, but sometimes the rules are just fucking stupid.

Ginny’s nurse fixes me with a stern gaze and raises an eyebrow. “Don’t make me call security. The doctor is in with her now. When he’s done, I will talk with her and determine if she wants you in there.”

As she walks away, my phone goes off in my pocket, and I pull it out to see it’s my uncle’s lawyer, George Wilkins, returning the call I made on the ride to the hospital. “Hello?”

“My condolences, Jackson. I’m sorry to hear about your uncle. Per your request on the voicemail you left, I’ve contacted Sadie on your behalf. She’ll be on the first flight out of Jacksonville. I’m currently out of the office, but I can arrange a time on Wednesday for us to go over the will if that works for you. I’ll need time to sort out some things and contact the other beneficiary.”

“Other beneficiary?” Who else would he have left something to?

“Uh, yes. A woman, I believe. The name escapes me right now, but it was a recent addition.” The sound of papers being shuffled fills the speaker as he pauses.

“Ginny? Or Guinevere?” I ask softly.

“Yes. That’s it. Said there was plenty to go around. She must be pretty special, eh? Never thought I’d see Scott go soft for a woman other than Sadie.”

Rubbing my forehead, I sink into one of the uncomfortable blue chairs in the waiting room, not bothering to correct whatever idea he has about who Ginny is to my uncle. “As for the other thing I mentioned?”

“Jackson, I’ve been doing this a long time, and Scott was a dear friend. You don’t have to worry about anything from this office being sold to the press. No details from your uncle’s will are going to be leaked. I promise you that,” George says sternly.

“Thank you, Mr. Wilkins.”

The sound of my name being gently called by Ginny’s nurse stirs me awake. I didn’t even realize I’d fallen asleep. “Mr. Tailor, Ginny’s asking for you.”

Checking my watch, I see I’ve been asleep for over an hour. Standing, my neck sore from the awkward angle I slept in, I follow the nurse as she leads me to a room down the hall. The door is cracked, and the lights are off, but there’s a faint glow from the machines Ginny’s hooked up to.

“I’ll come back by to check on her in a little while. She’s got a concussion. She’s doing okay, though.” As the nurse leaves, I push the door open and enter the room, shutting it quietly behind me.

“Jackson?” Ginny’s voice is soft and weak. When I round the curtain that’s been pulled to give her privacy, my breath catches in my throat as my heart seizes in my chest.

Rage rolls through me at the sight of her.

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