Page 203 of Into These Eyes
I call bullshit. “You’re not the babysitting type.”
“For you, I am. I almost got you killed. I definitely got your boyfriend shot. At the very least, I got you both traumatised.”
“I’m fine,” I say truthfully.
“You killed a man. You’re not fine.”
Anika’s arms tighten around me. “He’s right. We studied this at the academy. Even hardened cops are traumatised when they’re forced to take a life. Don’t bury it, Jamie. You’ll need help.”
I rub Anika’s arm and give her a faint nod. I won’t tell them how I feel about killing Jarrod. There’s only one person I’ll talk to about it, the only one who’ll truly understand. Because I don’t feel guilty, or traumatised. All I feel is utter relief.
I’d had no idea I was capable of killing a man. Not until the moment arrived. But I hadn’t pulled the trigger to save my life. I’d pulled it in the hope that Gavin’s life could still be saved. Jarrod was merely a roadblock to the man I loved. And nothing,nothingwould stop me from being by his side.
Except I’m not, am I?
But I know he’s alive, know he’s safe. Although his part in all of this has been hidden from the media, Pete’s taken measures to keep him protected.
Patting Anika’s arm, I ask, “How’re Benny and your father holding up?”
“They’re both going outta their fucking minds. Especially since they can’t see him until all the arrests have been made. But Lach went over to Benny’s. Apparently, after they had quite a pissing contest about who cares more about Gavin, they sorted things out and are waiting at Lach’s house for the green light.”
I briefly wonder how long it’ll be before she refers to her father asDad. I hope she does. She deserves to have a real dad who truly cares for her.
“You should get back to the hospital. Keep Gavin company, keep him calm. You know what to tell him.”
As I stand and encourage her to her feet, she gives me a fierce hug before making her way to the door. Turning the handle, she looks over her shoulder, her expression lighter, a touch of that spark back in her eyes where it belongs.
“You should probably know … I saw your boyfriend’s junk.”
I freeze, the admission so unexpected, I have no idea how to react.
Anika grins at me, pulls the door open and winks. “Gotta say … lucky you. Not so lucky for me. Nowthatwas traumatising.” She makes a gagging gesture, then she’s gone, the armed officer closing the door behind her.
I glance at Pete, but he seems focused on his phone. Until I notice the corner of his mouth twitching.
“Something amusing?” I ask, struggling with my own battle to keep a smile at bay.
He shakes his head, refusing to take his attention from his phone.
Striding over to the windows, I stare at the street below and let that grin stretch my lips. Anika wouldn’t be acting like her usual self if she didn’t believe Gavin was out of the woods. Nor would she joke if she still blamed herself for taking a toilet break. We’re going to be okay.
Without turning around, I say to Pete, “I know how you can make it up to me. To us.”
“Let’s hear it.”
Nearly forty-eight hours after the shooting, Pete’s team have every corrupt cop and politician involved in the apartment fire in custody.
Instead of making my own way to the hospital, Pete drives me himself, sacrificing precious time when he could be interviewing the high-profile suspects.
It’s well past midnight by the time I’m standing outside Gavin’s room. Before I enter, I message Anika and wait in the corridor for her to emerge. When she does, the prominent dark circles under her eyes speak volumes about the lack of sleep and stress she’s been under.
Gesturing to Pete behind me, I tell her to let him take her to Lach’s to get some rest before they all come back in the morning. She really must be on her last legs, because she offersno resistance, giving me a weak hug and a wave as Pete leads her away.
When I step into Gavin’s room, I close the door and lean against it, taking everything in. A dim light above the bed casts a soft glow over his sleeping features. With his upper body raised slightly, his gown has fallen halfway down his chest, exposing the dressing over his shoulder. The first bullet he took. An IV line adorns the back of his left hand, but none of the machines he’s attached to make any annoying sounds.
Slowly, I approach, rounding the end of the bed until I’m standing to his right. I’ve heard all the details about the second bullet he took, so I know to keep clear of his lower left side. He lost a kidney and a nick to his large intestines had to be repaired, but apart from that, he’ll make a full recovery.
I stand there for a long time, just taking him in, basking in the warmth and love I feel when I’m in his presence.
