Page 77 of Dirty Gambit

“You were in the hospital for three days. We brought you here the day before yesterday. So, five days.”

“I’ve been sleeping for five days?”

He captured the hand closest to him. His skin felt warm and rough against hers. “Doctors said it was a mixture of losing so much blood, but I think you not taking care of yourself for three days didn’t help.”

She ignored the jab. “I don’t remember anything after getting shot. What happened?”

He pursed his lips and sighed. “I don’t remember a lot of it. The first hour was a blur. I don’t think I came to my senses until we were in the hospital, and you were in surgery.” His gaze lowered to their joined hands, seemingly transfixed by the easy stroke of his thumb along the ridges of her knuckles. “The house was in chaos. I remember being covered in your blood and there was all this commotion, people everywhere, questions getting hurled at me. I remember wanting everyone to just stop talking, stop moving so I could think.” He paused to give his head a slow shake. “Frankie stayed with my parents so I could ride in the ambulance with you.”

“You went with me?” she broke in, throat oddly tight.

It was his turn to study her as if she made no sense. “After all that, I wasn’t letting you out of my sights.” He gave her fingers a gentle squeeze when she smiled. “The hospital was weirdly peaceful if that makes sense. There were doctors and nurses running all over the place, and people yelling over the speakers, but compared to the anarchy I’d left behind, it was heaven. One of the detectives tracked me down to take my statement. My parents and Frankie arrived a few hours later and stayed the night in the waiting room with me.”

Lena blinked. “Your parents stayed?”

He nodded. “They wanted to make sure you were being cared for.”

Nothing he’d said so far could have shocked her more than that statement.

“Why?” she blurted. “After everything I did—?”

“Shh,” he teased. “Let me finish my story.” He grinned when she reluctantly closed her mouth. “It was roughly midnight when they finally finished up with you and came to tell us you were in stable condition. The bullet had miraculously missed all the arteries and major organs but had shattered your humerus, so you’re going to be sporting that snazzy brace and sling for a little while.”

She glanced down at the half sleeve of plastic and fabric encasing her arm. From the flap of the sling, she wiggled her fingers. Sharp tendrils of pain raced up her forearm to her shoulder, but it wasn’t unbearable.

“So, what happens now?” She ignored the urge to pull back the gauze at her shoulder and examine what was sure to be a painful scar by fixating on Jaxon’s face once more. “Do I have to give my statement?”

Jaxon nodded. “Once the detectives learn that you’re awake, I’m sure they’ll want your side of the story.”

Lena took a deep breath and released it. “Makes sense. They probably have a lot of questions. Same with the media.”

“The media,” he mimicked with a deep exhalation of his own. “They can’t get enough of you.”

It was hard not to wince at that. It was harder to think of all the ways this was going to ruin her future and Jessie’s. The girl could barely walk in a straight line and already people were going to associate her as the girl who got kidnapped by her crazy aunt. It did make her wonder why the cops would let her just go home with the Westwicks when she should be cuffed to a hospital bed. Lena was too tired to try and run but they didn’t know that.

“So, what happens now?” she asked. “Am I going away?”

Jaxon stared. “For saving my family’s life and stopping a crazed drug dealer? I don’t think they put heroes in prison.”

She had to have heard him wrong. That was the only rational explanation why he was grinning at her.

“What are you talking about?”

Rather than give her a straight answer, he drew her hand to his lips and skimmed a kiss to her knuckles. His pale eyes studied her over the ridges, amusement bright.

“Let’s save the rest for later. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Refusing to be swayed, she tightened her fingers around his, restraining him when he started to pull away.

“Oh no you don’t!” she snapped. “Stop messing with me, Westwick.”

His face broke into a beautiful grin that may have sent her heart into a nosedive any other time but served only to tickle her impatience while she waited for answers. His injured hand lifted to cup the side of her face. His thumb brushed her cheekbone.

“Do you honestly think I would let them take you anywhere?” he asked with a quiet softness that prickled tears in her eyes. “Frankie has some explaining to do for the three bodies, but you’re safe now.” His thumb worked the same lazy path along her cheek. “You don’t have anything to worry about anymore.”

He had to mean taking Jessie and leading Travis to his family. In all the chaos, he probably forgot where she was a wanted fugitive.

“The heist—” she began only to have him shake his head.

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