Page 47 of Teach Me
“Just relax, baby. It’s okay. Just relax.”
Silent tears trickled down Jess’s cheeks. He could almost see the pain that must be pounding in her head. Wiping the wetness from her skin wasn’t enough; seeing that she was awake and aware and not a vegetable didn’t help. He needed to feel, with more than just his hands, that she was okay. Ignoring everyone else, he rounded the bed, lifted Jess as carefully as he could, and slid beneath her, settling her on his lap. With a near-silent sigh, she laid her head in the hollow of his shoulder, and her body lost some of its rigid tension under his hands.
As she quieted, he murmured in her ear, told her again how safe they were, that she and Cris were protected, that Gaines would be here soon as well. Jack stood before the door, thick arms crossed as if he dared anyone to come in. Jess relaxed bit by bit until their bodies melded fully together. Feeling her breathe allowed him to take small, rusty breaths of his own.
God, he was so in over his head, but he couldn’t let her go.
The door opened, hitting Jack in the back. He refused to budge until he verified the identity of the visitor, Jess’s doctor. The tall, slender man sported faded green scrubs and a worn expression, one Con sometimes spied in his own mirror. The ER saw domestic violence cases almost as often as he and Jack did.
“I see you’re awake, Ms. Kingston. I’m Dr. Bryant. How are you?”
“My head feels like someone’s using it for a chopping block,” Jess mumbled.
Dr. Bryant chuckled, switching his attention to Con. “Would you mind—”
“Yes, I would.” He’d just gotten Jess in his arms. He wasn’t giving her up now unless it was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t.
“I see.” The doctor shrugged philosophically. “Well, let’s see what we’ve got going here.” He flipped a penlight out of his pocket and began his exam. Jess moaned at the light, her pain clenching Con’s gut, but endured stoically, even when Dr. Bryant fingered the massive knot on the back of her head. Con didn’t tell her they’d had to shave a small patch of hair to get to the wound. She could worry about it once she was back home safe with him.
Assuming she felt safe. And that she’d stay with him. But he’d worry about that later too.
She might have doubts, especially after this, but even the nagging voice he’d used to keep himself out of harm’s way the past few years couldn’t change his mind. The more he examined his fears, the more he found he just didn’t give a fuck anymore. Jess was his, and she belonged with him—in his lap, in his bed, in his home, and most definitely in his life.
“Well, you are certainly lucky,” the doctor finally said. Cris’s snort of disagreement was plain to the whole room. The doctor’s lips lifted in a small smile. “Actually it’s true. The force of that kick alone could’ve killed you. As it is, you’ve got a concussion that will give you fits for the next few days.” He pulled a pad from his pocket and began writing a prescription. “Take these for pain.” He ripped the small blue sheet off and handed it to Conlan. “Take her home and put her to bed”—Jess snorted at that one—“but wake her every couple of hours for the first twelve just to be sure. If there are no changes, follow up with your regular physician.”
The doctor began removing her IV. Jess watched him but didn’t comment. Only when he placed gauze over the entry point did she stiffen. “Con,” she said, voice strained, “did you tell them…”
He looked at her, at the IV, and a lightbulb went on. “It’s okay; I warned the nurse.”
“Of course he did.” Cris’s tone was more frigid than the air spewing from the vent overhead. “And don’t be thinking we won’t talk aboutthatlater, young lady. I don’t know what you were thinking.”
“It’s not like we planned on it,” Con said.
“She’d just had her home vandalized. What were you thinking?” Cris asked.
Jess tilted her head up to meet his eyes. A slow but definite grin appeared on her lips.
Cris saw it and sputtered, “Okay, I do know what you were thinking, but still…”
Conlan laughed, quiet but as definite as Jess’s grin had been. When Jess joined him, the sound reverberating against his chest, he knew he didn’t care what anyone else thought. Jess knew the truth, and she could laugh despite the hell she’d been through. She was a miracle; she really was.
After seeing to a couple more minor details, Dr. Bryant released Jess to go home. As he opened the door to leave, Gaines stepped inside.
“Ms. Kingston.”
“Why do people keep calling me that?” Jess muttered into Con’s chest. “If they hadn’t pumped me full of feel-good stuff so my head didn’t explode, I’d probably get violent.”
Gaines chuckled. Jack’s eyes rounded, and Con realized his friend was staring at Jess. The look she was giving the detective must be a doozy.
Con couldn’t help the itch that had him surrounding Jess, trying to cushion her from blows he knew were coming and he couldn’t do anything to stop. Jess’s fingers curled around his wrist.
“Whatcha got?” Jack asked.
“Not Holbrooke,” Gaines said. “He seems to have disappeared.”
“And…”
Gaines perked up. “Preliminary evidence is in from the apartment. That should help us get a warrant.”
