Jasper’s eyes snapped down to Sloane, and he saw the blood blooming across her stomach. His heart stuttered and stopped.
“No.”
Max was right there, his fingers at her throat. He said something, but Jasper tuned him out.
Jasper didn’t hear him, didn’t hear the sirens of police vehicles approaching. Didn’t hear Jo calling his name.
All he saw was the blood on her shirt.
Her pale face was going paler by the minute.
He’d failed to protect someone. Someone he cared for very deeply.
Again.
Buzzing.
That was the one sound he remembered as he rode in the ambulance with Sloane. A hive of bees had taken up residence in his skull, the noise hammering away at him worse than a jackhammer.
Jasper sat in the waiting room with everyone else.
They tried to speak to him, but he ignored them.
He didn’t want to talk. Anger burned through him like a lightning rod, coupled with the crippling ache of guilt.
He wanted to see his pretty girl open her eyes.
But he also didn’t. He didn’t want to see the blame and accusation.
He’d failed to protect her.
Mateo sat beside him, his arm in a sling. Sloane had thrown him down so hard, the boy sprained his wrist, but she’d protected him from the bullets.
She’d done what Jasper couldn’t. She’d protected the boy while Jasper let four bullets rip into her.
He offered Jasper a cookie.
Jasper took it, shoving the whole thing in his mouth. Anything to keep from talking.
“What do we know?”
Jasper glanced up when Viktor and his wife, Sara, came rushing into the waiting room.
“She’s in surgery. I have men stationed outside the OR.” Kade glanced toward him, his eyes full of sympathy.
“Lydia?”
“In surgery too. The bullet shattered her shoulder blade.”
“Fuck, how did this shit happen?”
“Max went to retrieve his laptop from the car. We’re going to look at the security footage when he has it queued up.”
Viktor came over and sat on his other side. “You straight?”
“Fuck, no.”
“Kade said you’re keeping her.”