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“Armor!” I scream again long and hard.
I strain against whatever is holding me down until it feels like I can’t breathe. I fall deeper into the darkness. Farther away, deeper and deeper until I can’t feel anything. I can’t hear him anymore. Armor’s gone.
* * *
I jerk upright in the bed, a shuttered gasp leaving my mouth as I blink a few times and take in the surrounding environment. The lights are on, and my hands grip the same sheets that were on the bed the day before.
“It was a dream. Just a dream . . . just a dream.” I say to myself over and over again, but it doesn’t stop the tears that are streaming down my face. I’ve never really had such vivid dreams before, and if that’s any example, I’d rather not have anymore.
I suck in a few deep breaths, trying to get myself back into a calm state.
I seem to always get so amped up whenever Armor’s out on a run, and now with this one taking longer than usual, it seems like my fears are slipping over into my dreams.
I swing my unsteady legs over the side of the bed and force myself to move. I need to shake the last bits of this dream away. Armor’s fine. I know he is.
I walk over to the bathroom and splash some water on my face. A deep pink blush is on my cheeks from the crying and excitement that I was just going through. I look like absolute hell. I spend a few minutes going over some breathing techniques, and when I leave the bathroom, I start to feel more like myself.
Even though it’s bright in the room thanks to the lights, I glance at the clock and realize that it’s pretty late. Maybe Armor called while I was sleeping.
I speed walk over to the table and pick up my phone, wishing with everything I am that there are a few missed calls or some texts to put my mind at ease. When I don’t see anything from him, my heart drops a bit. I know while he’s on a run, it may be impossible for him to call me. I just need to wait.
Just as I’m about to turn the TV on and find something to drown out my worries, I hear the door to the clubhouse open.
I expect there to be a bunch of footsteps, heavy and hard, but I only hear one set. Fast moving and coming in my direction. I hold the remote in my hand, my knuckles going white due to my grip. When the door to my room flies open, and I see Shiloh, I feel the tight grip of dread wrapping around my gut. I don’t know why, but something tells me I need to stand up right now, so I do.
Something’s wrong.
“Jada, you have to come now. Armor’s been shot,” she says, and I nearly fall down from the shock of it all.
“No, you’re lying. No, no, no,” I say as panic threatens to overtake every thought I have in my mind.
Shiloh rushes over to me and grabs my shoulders. “I know. But we don’t have time. We need to go right now. I don’t know how bad it is. The club’s already at the hospital,” she says, and hearing that everyone’s already with Armor lets me know that this is very serious. I need to get to him. This time he’s the one that needs protecting, and I’m not going to let him down.
* * *
Shiloh drives me to the hospital, and the entire ride there, I pepper her with questions that she doesn’t know the answer to. She does her best to keep me calm, but the more she does, the more frantic I get. I want some answers. I want to hear Armor’s voice one more time.
I don’t even bother with the security guard who tries to stop me from running to the elevator. I don’t have time for rules. Shiloh is right behind me, and I curse the seconds as they tick by.
Now that I know for certain that Armor’s hurt, it feels like everything is moving so slowly.
I burst out of the elevator and sprint right toward the waiting room that Shiloh tells me the guys are in. She gets winded and falls behind but tells me to go on.
When I get in the room, it’s only the guys from the clubhouse, no other patient families.
Everyone looks worried.
When they see me, it’s like everyone’s been rendered mute. No one utters a word.
A huge tear pops out of my eyes as I wait to hear the bad news.
“What’s happened? Someone tell me, please,” I cry, and Hammer is the one to come up to me. I grab hold of his shirt, balling my hands into fists against his chest. I need his strength right now.
“Hammer, what happened? How bad is it? Is he okay?” I ask and search my brother’s eyes for some hope.
“I don’t know. The doctors rushed him into surgery. I’m sorry.” He wraps me in his arms, and I break down against his chest. I don’t want to hear, ‘I don’t know’. I want to hear that he’s fine. I want to hear Armor will be out in a minute. The last words I want to hear are, ‘I don’t know’.
I cry in my brother’s arms for what feels like forever, just waiting for one of the medical staff to come in and tell me something. The silence is the most nerve-racking part of it all. At least if Breaker or Fury were cursing up a storm, I’d feel like this was a bit normal, but right now, all any of them are doing is sitting here in reverent silence.
