Page 66 of Jackson
He forced his eyes open.
The light stabbed into him like a blade. He winced, or at least, he thought he did—his face didn’t seem to want to cooperate.
He tried again, blinking against the too-bright overhead lights.
“I love you.”
His heart soared.
She loves me?
He’d never told her about his feelings for her. He’d have to change that as soon as possible.
He had to tell her—had to say it back.
Before he could do anything, the darkness descended again.
She pressed a kiss to his hand before placing it gently on the bed and rubbed her fingers over his rough knuckles. His hand was warm, solid—alive.
I need to hold onto that.
The fear, the helplessness—she couldn’t afford to dwell on them. He was alive. He was breathing, even if it sounded like hell. That had to be enough.
She rose with newfound resolve. She would help him get back on his feet, and she wouldn’t face it alone. They had friends. She had!
Paula pulled her phone from her pocket as soon as she closed the curtains to Jackson’s room and called the first person she could think of.
Laura answered at the second ring. “Paula, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“It’s Jackson”—Paula fought to keep her voice even—“he’s been hurt. Badly.”
“Oh, dear Lord. What happened?” Laura’s concern was obvious.
Paula started pacing, barely aware of her surroundings. “I don’t know. Jackson saved a little kid from a house where they were cooking meth. He was near the building when the chemicals exploded.” Paula turned and retraced her steps. “He’s unconscious and has a broken femur. They did a CT scan on his head, but I don’t know all the details.”
After a beat of silence, Laura asked, “Do you want us to come over?”
Her eyes stung with unshed tears. The offer made Paula’s breath hitch. She didn’t expect this kind of support. She wasn’t used to having people—real people—who had her back. Her family never had, and it felt so good to have friends, people she could rely on.
“No, thank you.” She shook her head even though Laura couldn’t see her. “That won’t be necessary. I just needed to talk to someone.” She exhaled sharply, forcing a brittle laugh. “For now, I want to be at his side, and they won’t allow you in the room with me anyway. Hell, they wouldn’t letmein at first.”
“Okay,” Laura agreed. “We’ll be praying for him. Call me if you need me.”
“I will,” Paula whispered. “Thank you, Laura.”
She ended the call and drew a deep breath before heading back inside. Jackson hadn’t stirred.
She moved the chair from the corner of the room next to the bed to be closer to him. Before Paula could sit down, the door opened. Expecting to see Molly, she wasn’t prepared for the two men who strode into the room. “Detective Stone?” She blanched and faced Captain Lacey, Jackson’s commander, with Will Tolbert on his heels.
“Sir.” Paula composed herself and nodded her respect to Jackson’s superior. She only knew the man by reputation, butapparently he knew who she was. It was either the perk or the curse of being a female sergeant and the only woman to have received both the Honor Award for Public Service and the Criminal Investigation Award. “Good afternoon, you must be Detective Tolbert.”
Jackson’s partner looked at her with a confused expression that might have been comical if not for Jackson lying unmoving in the bed.
Shit.
The force of Will’s animosity hit her like a physical blow, knocking the air from her lungs.
He wasn’t glaring at her. Not exactly. But the sharpness in his posture, the way his dark eyes raked over her, was unmistakable. Disapproval. Distrust. Disbelief.
