“I know I said I’d wait, and I will, but I need you, Beckett. I need your smile, your laugh, the way you call me out when you don’t agree with something. I need…you.”
My heart continues to hammer, and when he leans forward to rest his forehead against mine, all I can think about is how desperately I want to wrap my arms around him so he can’t leave.
So he’ll do what I know we both want and kiss me already.
Too soon, he pulls away.
“You said Lauren is with your mom?”
He nods. “They’ll be fine. Hit it off really well.”
“That’s good.” As I come fully awake, the familiar anxiety sneaks in, triggered by the sights and smells of a hospital. The beeping of machines is deafening, and all I can hear is the sound they make when they flatline.Lord, please take this anxiety from me. I know You are here and that I have nothing to fear.“When can I leave?”
“Did you not hear me?” Shawn demands. “You died. Twice. You need time.”
“I hate hospitals,” I reply as I take a deep breath.
Shawn reaches down and takes my hand in his. “Why?”
“My grandmother was chronically ill when I was a kid,” I reply. “I was in the room alone with her when she died, and ever since then, I’ve hated them. The sound of a flatline has haunted me my entire life.”
“Understandable. You’re not alone, though. I’m here.”
I open my eyes and stare up at him. “I know.”
The weight of this moment between us settles on my shoulders. The desire to find the truth is still there, but it’s fading more and more when compared to the knowledge that it could have been Shawn who got hit.
Him whose heart stopped.
“Your mom called. I was going to answer but wasn’t sure what you wanted her to know.” He offers me my phone.
“If I tell her, she’ll rush down here and right into the middle of whatever this is.” I sigh and close my eyes. “I’ll call her later so she doesn’t start to worry.”
He nods. “Beckett, I can’t lose you,” he says suddenly.
I open my eyes and smile up at him. “I’m not that easy to get rid of.”
“Nothing about this is easy.”
Before I can respond, my cell rings. I lift it and see Tucker’s name flashing on the screen. I hit answer and put it on speakerphone.
“Hey, Tucker.”
He pauses a moment. “What’s wrong?”
“Got shot,” I reply.
He’s quiet. “You got shot?” he snaps, anger lacing every word. “When? Are you okay? Sampson?—”
“Is right here. It happened right after we hung up with you. They got her through the front windows of my house.” He clenches his jaw and stands, the guilt rolling off him in potent waves.
“Could have been either of us,” I reply.
“But it wasn’t,” Shawn snaps. “It was you.”
“You’re okay?” Tucker questions.
“I am.”Now.“In the hospital. They got the bullet out.”
