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ChapterSeven
“Ineed to get the hell out of here,” Laz grumbled to Hamilton.
He wanted out of that hospital bed. Not just because he needed to find the bastards who had gunned him down but also because he hated hospitals.
Over a decade on the police force, and he’d only been shot once. Even then, his bulletproof vest had protected him. But this—getting ambushed in broad daylight after years of giving up his badge—was just crazy.
“You’re not going anywhere until the doctor says you can leave,” Hamilton said as if he had a say in the matter. “Besides, you look like shit.”
Laz felt like shit.
His whole body throbbed like one big pulse, and the irritating beeping coming from the machines he was hooked up to made the situation even worse. At least his low blood pressure had risen out of the danger zone, thanks to the IV that was inserted into the back of his hand.
But all of that was overshadowed by thoughts of his wife. He couldn’t explain the fear he’d experienced when no one could find her, not even with the GPS chip in her watch. That’s when he freaked out.
The panic of not knowing where Journey was, along with the physical and emotional pain he and Ari had just gone through, had been the perfect storm that had the hospital staff threatening to sedate him. His active imagination had concocted the worst-case scenario—that whoever had come after him had gone after her.
Laz breathed a long sigh and closed his eyes. He’d been relieved to get word that they’d found her with Prentice, but the other part of him was mad as hell. She was never supposed to be out of reach. He would’ve understood if she’d been in court, but today—a Saturday—there was no excuse he would accept. She was the last person he wanted to talk to or see.
“Journey will be here in a minute,” Hamilton said as if reading Laz’s mind. “Like you and Ari, Journey’s been traumatized enough for one day. Try not to act like a total ass.”
Laz glared at him. In light of the shoot-out, if he was honest with himself, he’d admit that he was relieved that Journey hadn’t been with him and Arielle earlier. He would’ve lost his shit if he’d had to worry about her and his daughter getting caught in the crossfire. But there was no way in hell that she was just as traumatized.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Hamilton’s deep voice boomed off the walls as he folded his thick arms across his chest.
At well over six feet tall, he was dressed in a long-sleeved Henley and jeans, looking more relaxed than he usually did at work. At least until he started glaring right back at Laz.
“Just like you freaked out when Journey had been kidnapped back in the day, that’s how she was when she learned what happened to you and Arielle. You gotta cut her some slack, man.”
“I don’t have to do shit,” Laz spat, suddenly feeling even more tired than he’d felt moments ago.
Before Hamilton could respond, his cell phone rang. “I mean it, Laz,” he said before answering the call.
Whatever,Laz thought. He didn’t need another lecture. He appreciated his friend, but no one understood how he felt about Journey not being here when he needed her. Usually, her presence alone calmed him, which was something he could’ve used hours ago.
Laz stared across the room at the landscape picture hanging against the butter-yellow wall. A sudden bout of sleepiness hit him. He didn’t know what he would say to his wife. Anger continued to swirl inside of him, and he feared that if she said the wrong thing to him, he might say something he’d regret.
Now that he knew she was okay, all he wanted to do was close his eyes and pretend the day was just a bad dream.
He wasn’t sure if he’d dozed off, but what seemed like minutes later, a sound near the door had his eyes popping open. His gaze landed on the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in all of his life. His wife.
It didn’t matter if he was still pissed; seeing her sexy ass standing inside the door had the heart rate monitor beeping a little faster. Yet, seeing her red-rimmed eyes was like taking a punch to the gut.
Journey wasn’t usually a crier, but when she did, it twisted him up inside. He’d vowed to be her protector. Not only did that mean he’d keep her safe, but he had worked his ass off over the years to keep her happy, too.
With his cell pressed to his ear, Hamilton moved to her and kissed her on the cheek before heading to the door. Laz didn’t miss the threatening glare his friend shot him on the way out of the room.
“Hey,” Journey said.
Laz said nothing.
She moved to the side of the bed, and her sweet, fresh scent teased his nose. All he could do was look at her as the beeping machine sped up. Damn her. Red eyes and all, and even after years of marriage, his stunning, fierce, and intelligent wife still had a visceral effect on him.
At five-six and curvy without being fat, she had a figure that could make a man’s mouth water. She was also one of those women who didn’t need makeup to enhance her smooth chestnut brown skin, though she wore it anyway. Which only enhanced her beauty.
It was hard to stay mad at her when all he wanted to do was pull her close, kiss her senseless, and never let her go. But thoughts of how she’d been MIA after the incident that could’ve easily taken his and Arielle’s life had fury bubbling beneath the surface.
A knock sounded on the door and jarred him out of his thoughts. A second later, it was pushed open.
“Detectives are here to speak to you,” Parker said, glancing at Laz, Journey, and then back to Laz.
Hamilton had told him they’d been there earlier to talk to him, but his friend had held them off. Still, they were the last people Laz wanted to talk to; maybe it was good Journey was there. If he’d learned anything from her, it was never to speak to the cops without a lawyer present.
“Let them in,” Journey said before Laz could form any words, and his attention snapped to her. “What? You’re going to have to talk to them at some point. Might as well be now—unless you want to tell me what happened first?”
“Nope. Let them in.”
