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Jon gains the upper hand in the fight. He straddles Chet/Norman. The sound of his fists against the other man’s flesh makes me nauseous. Not because I don’t want him to hit Chet/Norman, because I’m happy about that. Typically not the kind of girl who likes that sort of thing, but my old boyfriend deserves to be beaten to a bloody pulp.
Sirens sound, or at least I think I hear them, but I hit my head so hard I might be imagining it. Then, Josh comes through the door. He stops short, taking in the scene. Blue is still standing there, holding the gun.
“Jon, you need to stop before you kill the bastard,” Blue says. Jon isn’t paying attention.
Josh walks forward, but I know I have a better chance of getting to Jon.
I step forward, my stomach turning over. That isn’t pleasant. I lay a hand on Jon’s shoulder.
“Jon, babe.”
He stops and looks up at me. The promise of death and destruction darkens his eyes. I’m not going to lie. That sends a little thrill through me. I know that my family would always fight for me but having someone like Jon ready to defend me…that’s so hot.
“You’re going to kill him if you keep it up.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do. You could end up in jail.”
He heaves a sigh. His arm tightens around me. Frustration fills that one sound, but he stands and then takes me in his arms. His body heat comforts me, but at the same time, I start shaking. Tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks. At this moment, I know I’m safe, and I can give in to my fear.
“You’re okay, baby. No one is going to get you.”
I nod against his chest, then I remember my cat babies. Pulling back, I look around the room.
“Meredith and Benjamin?”
“They’re fine, although Meredith isn’t too happy that Josh is here.”
I smile, but my stomach rolls over again. Oh, not good. The room is spinning. I lean against Jon.
“Baby, are you okay?”
“No. I think I need to sit down.”
The spinning goes into overdrive. Before I can take a step, the room starts to fade.
“Don’t leave me,” is all I can say.
“Never,” Jon says.
Then my world fades to black.
ChapterThirty-Five
Jon
Iride to the hospital with Avery. Two hours later, she’s still pissed I made her come, but there was no way I wasn’t having her checked out.
“You don’t have to look so smug.”
I glance over at her. “I’m not smug. How could I be smug? You have a concussion.”
“You always like to be right.”
“And you don’t?” She doesn’t say anything. “I’m happy that you’re okay.”
Her eyes soften. “I am too. Thank you for saving me.”
