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“Yeah. He’s a hell of a football player, and a good guy.” I pursed my lips together. “Can you tell me anything else now that we’re not around the team?”
The elevator ping alerted us it had arrived, and the doctor held the door open as we both stepped in. He pushed the fourth-floor button as the doors whooshed closed.
“He’s stable for now, but he’s not out of the woods. Jagger has to make it another twenty-four hours. Once he does, he should be on a long road to recovery. The bullet went through his shoulder, so that was a positive. However, it clipped the bone, so we had to remove some of the splinters. There’s a risk of infection and a possibility that when he wakes up, shock might set in. During the surgery, we pumped him full of pain meds, so he’ll be loopy for a while.”
I attempted to digest the information. “I still can’t believe he got shot at a football game.”
The doctor’s expression softened. “Since he was the only person shot, I’m guessing it was personal instead of a mass shooter. There were still plenty of people around, but from what the cops said, only one bullet was fired. They found the casing.”
I couldn’t feel much beneath the panic, shock, and nerves that kept my adrenaline spiked.
The elevator doors opened, and the doctor walked me past the nurse’s station and to room 412. “Here you go.”
“Thank you for saving him.” Tears welled in my eyes. “Jagger and I are close, and I’m not sure what I’d do if I lost him.”
Dr. Hewitt squeezed my shoulder. “He’ll need you, so it’s good to know he has friends and family to support him.” He strolled over to a nurse in the hall and gave me a small wave.
A messy lump of emotion clogged my throat. I had no idea what to expect. I hadn’t ever stepped foot inside an ICU room before. From what the doctor said, Jagger was still sleeping, so there was no need to knock. I squared my shoulders, then pushed the door open and entered. A wail escaped me, and I covered my mouth with my hand, muffling my cries.
Jagger’s face was pale, and he was hooked up to a heart monitor and an IV with two bags. His left shoulder was bandaged. Closing my eyes against the fear that he wouldn’t live, I tried to still the dark thoughts rolling into my mind and focused on his chest’s gentle rise and fall. I can do this.
Shaking, I walked to the other side of his bed and sat in the ugly green chair. “Hi, baby. It’s Ari. I’m here.” I took his hand and rubbed the back of it with my thumb. I’d heard if you talked to a patient when they were unconscious, they could still hear you. I wasn’t sure if the same principle applied to surgery patients, but I wanted him to know that he wasn’t alone.
“Almost the entire football team and several cheerleaders are in the waiting area. They’re terrified and talking about the shooting. The cops talked to your coach, but from the little I overheard, the police have zero leads on the shooter. I have a feeling I know who it is. You’re safe in the hospital, though. If I have to, I’ll ask security to guard your room. Maybe that’s not a bad idea. I have no clue what Psycho looks like.” I gulped, realizing I was rambling about being in danger. That shit wouldn’t help Jagger get better.
“I love you, Jag. I always have. You’re my first and last love. You have to make it through this. I can’t lose you again. Not after we just found each other.” As hard as I tried to hold back the tears, I couldn’t. They flowed freely down my cheeks. I stood, brushed Jag’s dark hair from his forehead, and placed a kiss against his cool skin. “By the way, the parents will be here soon. I wish you were awake to help me talk to them, but I’ve got this, right?”
Realizing that I needed to make up a story about why I was next to my stepbrother, I wondered if I had enough mental energy to do so. It might be easier to tell them the truth. Besides, they owed us answers. Until then, I no longer trusted either of them.
Anger and anxiety swirled in my chest. They had a hell of a lot to explain.
“Ari?” Jag’s voice was deep and throaty. “Ice.”
“Baby, you’re awake.” I frantically looked around and spotted a yellow pitcher on his nightstand. “Hang on. Don’t try to talk yet.” I rushed to the other side of his bed, and grabbed an ice chip. “Open up, baby.”
His lips parted enough for me to slip the ice into his mouth. He swallowed, his eyes glassy and heavy from the pain medications.
“Love you too.” He looked at me, a loopy smile easing into place. “Glad you’re here.”
“Where else would I be, Jag?”
The creak of the door reached my ears, and I turned around.
“Ariana?”
ChapterThirty-Two
Ariana
Surprise threaded Samantha’s tone as she strolled into the room, looking disheveled and exhausted. Her blue eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot.
Dad was right behind her, wearing a grim expression.
“Sup, Mom? Theo?” Jagger asked, grinning. “Long time no see.”
As his heart rate climbed, I set the pitcher of ice chips down and focused on Jagger’s monitor.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be here right now,” I said, standing between Samantha and Jagger. “It’s clear that you’re upsetting him. He needs to stay calm. He’s not out of the woods yet,” I explained in a hushed tone. I glanced over my shoulder. Jagger had closed his eyes, and I wondered if he’d drifted off to sleep again.
