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I sank to my knees beside Tank, wanting to touch him but terrified to cause him anymore pain. He gingerly raised his hand and pressed his palm to my cheek.
“It’s over, sweetheart,” he rasped.
I clutched Tank’s hand and refused to leave his side. I swallowed around the lump in my throat but I didn’t want to cry in front of him. He’d taken bullets to protect me, my family, and his club. He’d done enough. More than enough. If I cried, he would try to comfort me, even though he was the one bleeding out on the pavement right now. I had to be strong for him now.
I kissed his hand as the wail of sirens signaled the ambulance was on its way. Tank’s eyes drifted closed before he dragged them open again.
“Stay,” he whispered. “Stay with me.”
I nodded, squeezing his hand tight.
“I’ll be here with you, Tank. Always.”
Chapter Eleven
Tank
I woke to the sterile white of a hospital, groggy from painkillers. Gauze itched. Machines beeped.
Jules.
The thought rose to my hazy mind. I lifted my head to find her sitting in the chair beside me, curled up and fast asleep. Reaching out, I touched her hair gently.
“Jules,” I whispered.
She blinked awake, rubbed one eye with the heel of her palm. Then she turned her head to look at me and grabbed my hand.
“Hi,” she breathed.
“Hey.”
“How are you…are you feeling okay?”
I nodded, tugging on her hand.
“Come here.”
Jules carefully climbed into bed beside me, careful not to jostle any tubes or IVs. She placed a hand on my chest and kissed my shoulder before resting her head there.
“Was anyone hurt?” I asked, wrapping an arm around her.
“You,” she said with a note of petulance in her voice.
“Anyoneelse, babe.”
She sighed. “Bear was shot, but the bullet went through his shoulder. You were the only one who really got hit hard.”
“Good.”
Jules pulled back to look at me with a surprisingly fierce look.
“No. Not good. You lost so much blood that it took transfusions from three people to keep you from dying.”
“Okay,” I said, attempting to placate her. I took her hand, rubbing my thumb over her knuckles.
“Not okay,” she persisted. “You threw yourself in the path of five men with guns and you had nothing but your bare hands, Tank.”
“It’s Eric. My name is Eric. Thought you should know that after…everything.”
