Page 60 of Until Waverly

My heart pounded as the cries of a baby in the distance grew louder, more desperate for someone to find them. I couldn’t move. The shadowed, blurry image played out in front of me as I was stuck in my spot.

“I said, give me my wife!”

We were trying to calm him down. My memory was fuzzy. I shook my head, trying to gain my bearings and assist the frantic father. Get him to listen to reason, but with the crying baby, I couldn’t do anything. The father wouldn’t stop. He was too big. Too enraged for any of us to make him see reason. Several times, we’d tried to get him into the elevator. At least then this nightmare of a day would be over, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Sir, you need to calm down. Please calm down.”

Joyce. She was there. She’d stop him.

A phone rang.

Then more screaming, and I was falling. Falling. Falling. Falling.

No, wait. I don’t want this. I couldn’t do this. The baby. I needed to get to the baby. I had to save them—everyone. They were all that mattered. Alandria. I had to find her. She was the most important person in my life. I couldn’t lose her. But darkness had swallowed me up. I couldn’t move. He was too heavy. My head was being crushed.

The pain was too much.

My leg…

I gasped, shooting upright in the bed. Jackson was right beside me, his hands on my shoulders and staring at me, scared out of his mind. His chest heaved as he panted for breath. I was...home. Glancing around the room, I exhaled, relieved to find Alandria in her crib, sleeping away like nothing had happened.

“Waverly?” Jackson’s voice cracked as his gaze bore into mine. “Are you okay? You were having a nightmare.”

I pushed my curly hair from my face and nodded, tears threatening to spill down my cheeks a second time today. Wasn’t even midnight yet. I felt like I’d cried more now than I had all those months ago when I thought I’d lost Jackson.

“I’m fine,” I said, taking a shuddered breath. “That was not fun. I don’t recommend night terrors for anyone.”

He chuckled softly, mostly a relieved sound as he gathered me in his arms. “Well, technically, the word nightmare speaks for itself. No one wants them.”

“Yet everyone has them.”

“Exactly, sunshine,” he murmured. “Want to tell me what it was about? Maybe then you can get some sleep.”

It was time. I heard all about what it was like outside the hospital while the families waited for their loved ones to emerge from the building. Jackson deserved to understand what we went through on the L&D floor, not the glossed over version I’d given Cobi.

“Should we take this conversation to the living room to keep Alandria from waking up?” I stared up into his emerald eyes, still feeling like a complete failure. I’d mistrusted him. The scene I’d walked in at Flame was not what I thought it was. I’d hurt him as badly as I’d convinced myself I’d been hurt. I didn’t deserve him. Yet, he’d forgiven me. He loved me still. I needed to follow in his steps and absolve myself—love me.

“I’ll grab us a blanket.” Jackson slipped from bed first before I did. He went straight to the small cabinets in the little alcove outside my room and found a few items I’d taken from home, one being the quilt from my bed. “Do you want some tea or warm milk?”

Tea sounded amazing. “We’ll have to microwave the water.”

He threw a scandalized look in my direction before going into the kitchen. “We do not warm water in the microwave like heathens. We use a kettle on the stove, like civilized human beings. Microwaves… Pfft.” His grumbled words lifted some of the darkness surrounding me after the horrible dream.

A small smile drifted across my lips as I sat on the couch, lifting my leg onto the ottoman. The pain meds had done wonders for keeping the ache in my ankle at bay. Staring down at the joint, however, brought back all the memories of that day. “I look like a monster now.”

“Are you putting yourself down?” Jackson tilted his head, staring at me as he dropped a tea bag into one of my mugs. “Because if you were, we’re going to have a long conversation about that too.”

I sighed. “My leg.”

“Is sexy as fuck,” he replied. “A little messed up. Still healing too. But sexy.”

“You can see where the stitches were. My skin is pale from being in the cast, and I swear I notice the metal in there holding everything together more than anyone else.” I frowned. “How did this happen?”

Jackson stared at me before he flicked off the eye on the stove and poured the warmed water into the cup and brought it with him. “It’s because of the trauma associated with what happened to you. You as healing, and I’m so fucking grateful we could have a conversation about us.”

I brushed my lips across his and nodded. “I didn’t think any of us would make it out alive, Jackson. I thought this was it. He’s going to kill us. I don’t know for sure if he had a gun, but the longer we were locked in, the more unhinged he became. It freaked me out. There were six women on that floor. Six. How many were in the ER giving birth because they couldn’t be brought to Labor and Delivery?” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I don’t blame him per se, either.”

Jackson got this thoughtful look on his face before he nodded. “He had his life taken away in a single second.”

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