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Movement across the room calls my attention. I shift my gaze to my wife who stirs from sleep and blinks her eyes open. She stiffens momentarily and when I smile, she’s on her feet and at my side, hands cupping one of my hands.
“You’re awake.”
“Only for a minute I think,” I manage hoarsely, the drugs like hands wanting to pull me under.
“I’ll take it,” she says smiling, looking down at me and brushing hair back from my forehead. “Sleep, Jericho. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I don’t know how many days have passed when I next open my eyes. I’m in the same room but the sounds around me are different. Not so many machines.
“About time,” comes a male voice.
I look over to see Zeke get to his feet and approach the bed. He looks like he just walked in from the office.
“You’ve been out for three days,” he tells me.
My throat is so dry I can’t speak. I glance at the cup on the nightstand. He picks it up, brings the straw to my lips and I drink. It’s heaven. I can drink it down.
When I’m finished he sets it aside and pulls a chair close. “How are you feeling?”
“Been better,” I say, although I don’t feel pain. Just stiff and tired. “You’re good?”
“Not a scratch on me. Our men are fine. Robert needed surgery but he’s out and recovering at home. You took the brunt of the damage. Bullet to the shoulder. Knife wound to your right kidney. You’re down to one now so try not to get stabbed on the other side.”
I attempt a smile. “Isabelle?”
“I sent her home to shower and get some decent food. Apart from a few hours that first day, she wouldn’t leave.”
I smile. “Good. She’s all right?”
He nods. “She’s good and the baby’s good,” Zeke says. “Broken arm, a few stitches, but nothing major. You saved her life.”
History repeating? Not this time. “Julia?”
“Took two bullets but survived. She’s recovering a few doors down. IVI guards are standing at her door. When she leaves the hospital, she’ll be spending her days in a Tribunal cell.”
I nod at that, but the news doesn’t make me happy. How could it? “Gibson?”
“Dead. Bullet to the head.”
“Good. I should have done that when I first learned of his existence.”
“It all just went sideways but everyone’s all right. Don’t beat yourself up. I think you’ve done enough of that, don’t you?”
I remember the dream. No, it wasn’t a dream. It was Kimberly.
Then I remember something else. Someone else. “Where’s her boy? Matty?”
He clears his throat, studies me for a long moment. “Well, Isabelle brought him home, actually. He was in the house alone, Jericho. That bitch left him there on his own. Isabelle found him in the kitchen trying to make himself a bowl of cereal for dinner when mommy dearest didn’t come home.”
“Jesus.”
“Angelique and mom are watching him. And Catherine of course. She’s been stuffing the poor kid and I swear she picks him up to hug him every chance she gets.”
“That’s Catherine. Angelique and mom are home then?”
“Yeah. I called Dex after your surgery. Angelique has been asking to see you.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That some bad people tried to hurt Isabelle and that you saved her.”
“Couldn’t you tell her I was on a business trip?”
“She’s smarter than that, brother. She’d see right through it. Besides, have you seen a mirror?”
“Fuck. Is it bad?”
The door opens before he can answer, and Isabelle peeks her head in. Dex holds the door open over her head.
“Jericho!” She rushes in and just catches herself before throwing her body on top of me. She smiles at me, kisses my forehead, my mouth, then turns to Zeke. “You said you’d call the instant he opened his eyes.”
“He literally just opened them.”
“And I didn’t get a call.”
I smile at my brother’s expression and reach out to touch her hair. She’s left it loose down her back. It’s soft and still a little damp from a shower. She’s dressed in jeans and one of my shirts with the arm split for her bright yellow cast.
“Is that my shirt?” I ask.
“Oh,” she glances down at it. “Yep. I didn’t think you’d mind. You have so many.”
“Hm.”
“And besides, it smells like you.”
I squeeze her hand.
“Boss,” Dex says. “Hope you’re feeling better than you look.”
“Good to see you, too, Dex.”
“I’m going to go home,” Zeke says. “Get some rest myself. You’ll stay?” he asks Isabelle.
She pulls a chair up beside my bed. “I’m not going anywhere.” She turns to wave Dex and Zeke out but when she looks at me again, her expression is serious, eyes misting. “You saved my life. You almost died doing it. I don’t have words.”
I study her, see her innocence, her honesty, the good inside her. “How about thank you.”
She smiles, wipes a stray tear. “Thank you.”
