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Doing what he says, sucking in a shaky breath I force myself to relax and speak. “H–he’s in our room and he– Gio, I think something happened to him. I think someone hurt him. H–hurt him really bad.”
“He’s injured?”
“N–not physically. He looks like he’s seen a ghost and he won’t let me in. Told me he’s sick. I overheard him saying something about his dad to one of the guards.”
“Dixie. I’m on my way. I’m in New York, it’s less than an hour long flight. You need to listen to me,carefully. Get in that room. I don’t care if you have to break in by shattering the door. Get inside and make sure he stays there. There’s a gun underneath the floorboard in your closet. Get it and put it in the back of your jeans. It’s condition three right now, meaning the chamber is empty. You’ll need to rack it back to shoot. Have you shot a gun before, Dix?”
My mind is reeling, “Y-yes. At the range with Jas.”
“Good. Do what I said. Now.”
As I rush into the hallway, I pant into the phone. Luckily, Jasper had unlocked the door and I’m able to rush inside quickly. “I’m inside,” I report, hectically looking for Jasper.
“Lock the door behind you if you can.”
“Got it,” I say, clicking it into place.
When I find Jasper, my heart stops. “He’s fully clothed underneath the spray of the shower. Gio, he’s shivering, what do I do?”
“Turn the water to warm, not hot, but warm and don’t touch him. Go grab the gun, don’t let him see it and then sit near him and keep the phone near you. I’m about to take off. And Dixie, don’t shoot me when I come in.”
The line goes dead. I do exactly what he says, fixing the water first then rushing around and finding the handgun, stuffing it in the band of my jeans.
Jasper doesn’t say a word. He breathes, his shoulders rising and falling softly, but he doesn’t speak. I can’t take my eyes off of him, watching him in a worried silence. The knowledge that Gio is coming is my only anchor, holding me steady while time clicks by.
I know that Jasper’s dad did bad things to him when he was a kid. Bad, bad things that I can’t think about without feeling sick to my stomach. He’s been in jail since Jasper turned eight. I haven’t heard him say anything about him since the night he told me about it. And since coming home again, the topic hasn’t come up.
All I can think is how much I wish I could hug him. But Gio is right. He’ll know what to do.
“Dixie, it’s Gio! I’m coming in. Stay in the bathroom. There’s two people with me. A man and a woman, they’re family.”
“O–okay!”
In a matter of moments, the familiar man comes into view and I break. Tears cascade down my face. Helpless, terrified tears. Gio frowns, taking a step inside of the bathroom. A woman with dark brown curls piled on top of her head, decked out in black leather pants and a red lace top swings around him. She doesn’t even look at Jasper but focuses on me, slowly getting closer and holding out her hands.
“Dixie, my name is Katherine. I’m Gio’s sister-in-law. The guys are going to take care of him okay? Let’s get you out of here.”
Nodding at her through cloudy tear filled eyes, I let her take my hands and pull me to my feet. A man decked out head to toe in black and white tattoos steps aside, allowing us to leave the room before following Gio to Jasper’s side.
Katherine sits me down at the edge of the bed, but no part of me is able to calm.
“You’re hyperventilating, beauty,” she warns, brushing some hair away from my wet face. “Gio will get him back. He’s panicking, just quietly. It’ll be okay. We got you both, alright? Breathe for me.”
It’s difficult, but doable. She does it with me, coaching my intake and outtake of air. “Good job, beautiful. Keep doing it. In and out, real easy like that.”
“Talk about something,” I beg. “Anything.”
“My husband kidnapped me,” she offers. The look in her eyes tells me she’s being dead serious. “Lorenzo, the tattooed beast in there with Gio. Love that man more than mozzarella sticks now though, so it’s water under the bridge. Really complicated back story. Ummm, my record for shots in two hours without blacking out is seventeen for vodka, nineteen for clear rum, twenty-one for tequila but I’m half Mexican. Marco says that’s why I can drink it out of the bottle with a straw and a lime covered in salt. Really he’s just mad I can drink more of it than him. Marco is a little shit, he’s eighteen now but might as well be forty-five. He’s Lorenzo and Arianna’s brother, and now my brother too. Cause you know, I married his brother’s kidnapper ass. Oo, it’s a great ass too, you should totally check it out when-”
“I think I’m okay now,” I interrupt. “My head is spinning, but I can breathe.”
She pushes out a breath of air. “Good. I’m totally not a comforting person, but I can babble when I need to. You still got that gun on you?”
Nodding, I get it out, passing it over to her slowly. “I checked, it’s still condition three. There’s no safety on it.”
She smiles. “Nah, not on this model. Safety catches can slow down home defense. Sometimes when you’re nervous, you can forget to click it off. Everyone thinks to rack it back though. Cause, what action movie doesn’t show the protagonist dramatically pulling back the slide before getting down to business, am I right?”
“I’m really more of a rom-com kinda girl.”
