Page 92 of Reckless and Rooted
I let her do it, my head falling to her shoulder, and the emotions I’ve been holding back fall into her embrace. I let the fucking tears fall, my body racking with emotion. I could be embarrassed that this is happening in front of everyone, but I almost lost the love of my life. Could still lose her.
“Is she okay?” Mom asks me, still holding me tightly. “Jax, is she okay? Please tell me she’s okay.”
I pull back, still having my arms around my mom, and she looks up at me, panic and tears in her eyes. “She’s in surgery.” My voice chokes out, the fear of what could happen paralyzing my voice. “There was another shot she took that I didn’t see. I didn’t see it, Mom.” My voice chokes out the words.
My mom brings me back into her hug, and I feel like a little kid again, letting her take some of the terrified burden from me.
A scuffle of activity at the door grabs my attention, and Felicity’s parents come in. Ezra walks over to them to bring them to our group, but Hannah’s eyes are already on mine. I pull away from my mom, and Hannah walks up to me, her eyes wide and terrified about what I am going to say.
Her gaze travels over me, probably seeing a mess of a person, and lands on my hands, the stains of her daughter’s blood still visible.
Her hand flies to her throat, and she looks to me, the question in her expression clear.
“She’s okay,” I blurt out, somehow needing to give Hannah and Gerald all of my support, the fear and panic subsiding with a new need to take care of someone else’s feelings arising. I explain what happened with lead in my throat, knowing that at any moment they could throw a hit, one that I would deserve for putting their daughter in danger in the first place.
As soon as I’m done explaining, Hannah releases more tears. My mom comes over, leading her to a chair, and starts to talk to her in low tones, my mom’s own tears falling hard.
Gerald looks to me, and I wait for the blow, but he only rests his hands on my shoulders. “Son, let’s get you cleaned up.”
I let him lead me down the hallway to a bathroom, and I take a minute to myself inside, washing my hands with soap untilevery last trace of her is gone. I stare at the mirror for a moment. The man looking back at me is not one I recognize.
He is tired, strung out, exhausted.
I leave him behind in the bathroom, resolving myself to be and do better. Felicity deserves better from me.
Walking down the hallway with her dad by my side, I come to a halt when I hear crying that I recognize. My footsteps speed up until I finally spot him in the waiting area, his face red as he screams at my sister-in-law and mother.
I reach for him before I say a word and feel his body melt into mine, the stress and panic over the last twenty-four hours receding as my son calms in my arms.
“Jax, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to bring him here, but he’s been so upset.” Thea’s face creases in worry, and I shake my head.
“It’s okay. It’s actually great. Thank you for bringing him to me.” I take the diaper bag and find a place to be. Thea prepped a couple of bottles, it looks like, and I grab one, holding my son in my arms. His little eyes meet mine before he latches onto the bottle for a few minutes before his fussing starts again.
I realize what I need to do. I lay out a blanket I keep in the diaper bag on the floor and sit down beside it, lying him gently on top. I start moving his legs and talking to him.
This is what I always have to do for him when he’s got gas, and I talk him through it like he understands it at all.
He finally relaxes enough that his body responds, and his eyes start to take in everything around him, the bright lights and sounds, and a little smile crosses his lips.
I find myself finally able to relax, able to focus on something other than my immense panic over the love of my life being cut open in an operating room, and for the first time, I let myself breathe.
45
felicity
Pain lancesthrough me as my eyes flutter open, the bright lights of the room making it hard to understand what I’m looking at, but the beeping tells me I’m in a hospital.
I try to move my limbs out, feeling every ache and pain. It isn’t as bad as I expected, but there is some definite tightness in my shoulder and side area.
“Oh, you’re awake,” someone says, and I turn my head to find a nurse standing there. He is tall with a nice smile on his face. Coming over to me, he checks the machines by my side. “I’m Colin, your nurse for the day.”
“Nice to meet you, Colin.” I clear my scratchy throat, blinking. “I’m Felicity. What time is it?” I ask, squinting toward the closed window. There is a faint glow, but I can’t tell the time.
“It’s nearly six in the morning,” he replies chirpily for the God-awful hour.
“Six?” I squint, my head aching. “What day is it?”
“Saturday.”
