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“Rhodie, open your eyes, babe. Let me see you.” His eyes are closed, eyelashes fanned across his pale cheeks. Marx comes up and covers my hands with his much larger ones, pressing even harder on his brother.
“I need a vehicle NOW! Someone call the ambulance, single gunshot wound to the chest, HURRY!” he roars so loud my ears ring but I don’t cover them with my hands. My hands are needed to keep Rhodie alive. I concentrate on my counting, first in twos, then threes, then prime numbers. I really want to tap my fingers but my hands are busy at the moment, counting will have to do.
I’m not sure how long it is before I hear the wailing of sirens and I feel my body relax a little. How the hell we’re going to explain multiple fatalities is beyond me, but I feel like that’s a problem for tomorrow. The door bangs open once again and I watch as they bring in a gurney and a bag of stuff.
“Ok, step back please ma’am, let me look at what we’re dealing with.” I hear the voice say a couple of times and I growl at them. Can’t they see I can’t let go? I feel someone’s large, warm hand on my shoulder, pulling me toward them.
“It’s ok Chewy, it’s me. Let the paramedics look at Rhodie, yeah?” I turn and see Rider’s bright blue eyes looking down at me, full of worry, I move back, my hands shaking, warm and slippery with Rhodie’s blood, I can’t stop staring at them when I feel large arms wrap around me.
“Come on, Chewy, let’s mount up, we’ll meet them at the hospital,” I nod and hope like hell I get to tell Rhodie I love him.
Chapter 22
Rhodie
Shit, that alarm beeping is really pissing me off. Where the hell is Chewy, and why the hell has she set an alarm? I turn my head and find that my eyes won’t open. Fuck! How much did I drink last night? I flail my arm out to hit the alarm and a blinding pain shoots through my chest, stealing my breath.
“Hey babe, don’t move. Stop thrashing. You’ll hurt yourself!” Chewy’s voice cuts through the pain and I feel the weight of her small hands against my chest. I shake my head and will my eyes to open, only to slam them shut immediately as I’m blinded by the brightest fucking light I’ve ever seen.
“Shit! Marx, dim the lights, please!” I can see the lights dim a little through the tiny slits I’m looking through now, and it all comes rushing back to me. Seeing Kovalev’s man point his gun at Chewy, hearing the gun go off, and knowing that I had to protect her. I open my eyes fully, to stare directly into her whiskey-colored eyes.
“Baby” I choke out, I gingerly raise my arms, placing one hand on her back, the other in her hair as I slowly guide her to me, placing my nose in the crook of her neck, smelling her, getting my fill.
“I love you so much baby, so so much. I’m a fucking idiot and I’m so sorry and I want you to know that I will never underestimate you again, as long as you give me another chance to love you. Please baby, I need you.” If I could get out of this bed and on my knees to grovel at her feet, I would. She pulls back from me, looking down at me with a small frown on her gorgeous face.
“Of course, you have another chance. You will have all the chances in the world because I know that you’ll make more mistakes. Just like I’ll make more mistakes.”
“So you forgive me?” I place my hand on her cheek and watch as she leans into it.
“Only if you forgive me,”
“Huh? What the hell for?” I rack my brain, trying to figure out what she needs forgiveness for.
“For not leaving when you asked me to. For not using the words I love you.”
“You’ve never said the words, but I’m your person, so I figured it out.”
She smiles down at me.
“You’re so much cleverer than me at this stuff.” She perks up a little, smiling before saying,
“Do you know how I know I love you?” I give a head shake so she carries on,
“When you got shot, I covered the wound to stop the bleeding. I felt your heart beating in time with mine. When your heart stopped, my heart stopped. It felt like your insides were my insides. Not physically, of course, but that’s kinda what it felt like, and that’s how I knew it was love. We keep each other’s insides safe.”
“Weird way to say you have each other’s hearts,” I hear Marx’s low mumble but I choose to ignore him as I bring her face close enough to breathe her in, kissing her gently on the lips
“You have my heart, Tuesday Tombs,”
“And you have mine, Rhodes Paxon,”
Epilogue
Tuesday
“Put a little more honey on him. He looks like he’s drying out.” I watch as Lexi dips the paintbrush into the bucket of honey that Jules somehow procured, from whom I have no idea, and I’m not asking either. There will be a kinky reason for it. Lex slaps the honey-covered paintbrush onto Kraykowski’s face and neck, painting all available skin to encourage even more insect-feeding.
“Christ, he stinks. Are we sure he’s still alive?”
