Page 91 of Reckless and Rooted
Ezra busts through the chaos, and an ambulance pulls in just then.
“Holy shit.” Ezra drags a hand through his hair, staring at where I’m bleeding. “You’re shot.”
I feel myself grow faint and nod slightly, unable to comprehend the manic way he says it. “Okay.”
“We need to get her to a hospital,” Jax says, and I feel him pick up speed, his feet carrying him faster than he should be able to while holding me.
“We got her,” I hear someone say, my eyes closing on their own accord, and I feel myself being lifted and then laid on a somewhat hard surface. My eyes blink for a moment, trying to see where I am, and I recognize the inside of an ambulance.
Jax yells something, and then he’s there, sitting beside me, his hand wrapped firmly around my own.
Something presses into my shoulder, and I hiss. “Ow.”
“Yup, that bullet is still in there,” someone says, and I try to look at Jax again.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” I recognize his voice, can hear the pain in it, can hear how much this is hurting him, and I want to take it all away.
But before I can say a word, I float into sleep.
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jax
The hard waitingroom chair is digging into my ass, but I stay still, my elbows on my knees and my hands still tinted red from her blood.
Her blood.
I feel something curdle low in my belly, feeling the need to puke again, but I bury it down. As soon as we arrived at the hospital, they took Felicity back and realized she was losing blood. Originally, they thought she’d only been shot once.
So had I. But then, they found another shot, one that had torn into the right side of her stomach.
When I was left standing there alone as they took the love of my life back, I ran to the nearest trash can and puked.
I’ve been sitting here ever since, playing over everything in my mind. My bad decisions, my horrible choices, are what led us to this place, are what got Felicity caught up in my mess of a family.
Well, not family, just father.
I hate that I brought that into her life.
I rub my hands together, knowing that I should wash them off but also unable to do so. The worst-case scenarios keep playing over and over in my head, and I want to keep part of her with me, even as morbid as that sounds.
“Hey.” I look up, my eyes tired from the night of no sleep, pure panic, and now exhaustion from the thoughts of losing Felicity that won’t stop circling my head.
Ezra stands in front of me, wearing a similar expression to what I probably look like. “Any news?”
I shake my head as he takes the seat next to me and say, “Two shots. She lost a lot of blood, so they had to do some sort of surgery.”
“Fuck,” he replies, sighing hard as he leans forward in his chair. “And you?”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
I look at my girlfriend’s security guard for a moment, wondering why he asks. But he gives what seems like a genuinely concerned look. “I’m fine.”
And wasn’t that the kicker? I am completely fine. Not a mark on me. I tried to shield her body with my own, and she still ended up the one hurt.
A bustle of activity comes through the door, and I glance up to see my family entering, being led in by two police officers. They all head in our direction, and Ezra and I both stand. My mother, being who she is—and thank God for her being here and still alive—cuts in front of the officers and pulls me into a rough hug.
