Page 69 of Ashes to Ashes

Chapter Twenty-Six

Ash

Beep.Pause. Beep. Pause. Beep. My eyes fluttered, and slowly I came to in a dimly lit hospital room to the muffled sound of nurses and orderlies shuffling outside my room. I dragged my eyes to the source of the beeping and saw a heart monitor whose neon green peaks and valleys looked steady. As my vision adjusted, my gaze landed on the corner of the room where Rae was curled in on herself in an uncomfortable looking chair.

“Rae,” I croaked, but it came out tinny and weak. I cleared my throat, and she stirred.

And then she bolted upright, her face a mixture of shock and euphoria. “Ash!” she exclaimed, rushing to my side. Her hands hovered uncertainly in the air, as if she needed to touch me but, given my current state, didn’t know where was allowed to. “Thank god you’re awake.” She let out a ragged sob that wracked her shoulders, and tears cascaded down her cheeks to splash on my hospitalbed.

“Ah, don’t cry. It’s okay, baby. Everything’sokay.”

“I could have lostyou.”

I closed my eyes. “But you didn’t.” Mindful of the needles anchored to the inside of my elbow, I extended my hand toward her, palm up. When she laced our fingers together, I gave her a small squeeze. It was all I had in me after getting shot. Twice.

“What happened, Ash?”

I took a few extra seconds to answer. “Noones is dead,” I told her. Personally, I thought he’d gotten off too easy—I would have liked to see him suffer for the way he’d made Rae suffer—but two bullets to the chest had been the most expedient way of keeping my womansafe.

Her head dropped forward. “Thank god,” she whispered. “I was so worried when I heard the first set of shots. And then the second time, I nearly pissed myself. I didn’t know what to think. I was sure you were dead, and he was coming for menext.”

I squeezed her hand again and chuckled, the slight flexing of my chest and abs sending a fiery spasm to my side. I winced and hissed. Shit, I’d forgotten how much it fucking hurt to getshot.

“Why are you laughing?” she asked, her voicing going higher and higher with each word she spoke until she’d reached the top of her range. Given she was a natural soprano, that was quite high. “This isn’t funny, Ash. Nothing about this is funny. That man shot you twice.”

“Once,” I said. “Noones only shot meonce.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion, and she looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “No, Ash. You were shot twice.”

I nodded. “I know that, Rae. But Noones only shot me the onetime.”

“But the doctor said you had two gunshot wounds, and one of them required surgery to remove the bullet.”

“Baby,” I said, holding back my laughter. I knew there was nothing funny about this situation, but the drugs they’d given me to help with the pain said otherwise. “Noones’s bullet only grazed me. Terrible fucking shot. You, on the other hand, shot me square in the side when I came through the bathroomdoor.”

Rae gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. “No!” she cried, looking down at my side and then flicking horrified eyes back up to mine. “I shotyou?”

I nodded. “Youdid.”

“Oh my god,” she wailed, throwing herself over my body and squeezing me tight.

With an “oomph,” I wrapped my one free arm around her shaking shoulders, and let her hug me until I couldn’t breathe. “Rae, baby. It’s okay. You did almost exactly what I told you todo.”

She shook her head, her nose digging into my sternum, and said, “I didn’t though. I shot you, Ash. I could have killedyou.”

I petted her back and her hair and touched her as much as I could to calm her down, but Rae was inconsolable. “Shh,” I cooed. “Shh.”

And then blackness claimed me again.

* * *

I wokeup to an empty room. After eating something that only mildly resembled oatmeal with pale, unripe strawberries, I was antsy and ready to leave. I knew from experience the hospital might try to keep me another night for observation, but there was no way in hell I was sleeping another night in a morphine-induced coma. I wanted to go home. I wantedRae.

After a quick, perfunctory sponge bath I’d perfected from my time in the military, I paged the nurse and then eased into the chair in the corner of my room and waited.

“Good morning, Mr. Devereaux,” she said, coming through with a tray of pills I knew she’d want me to take. “You’re lookingwell.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Can you bring my discharge papers?”

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