Page 116 of Unburdening His Heart

Jack laughs, but it’s unamused. “Assault and attempted murder, for starters, for trying to kill his son. I’m sure the security footage in here will be plenty to satisfy just cause. That’ll hold him long enough for me to give you what you need to charge him with everything else he’s done. It’s a very long list, and it all ties back to Christopher Gates, so we’ll need the FBI here, too.”

Two unarmed security officers then move to stand on either side of Malcom as Jack fills in the on-site cop. By the time they finish, four officers and a detective walk into the room with FBI on the way. The police make their way over to help Malcom off the floor, and he groans and complains.

“I’m not who you should be arresting! It’s her! She tried to choke me to death!”

I close my eyes and shake my head. I’m too tired to set him straight, and Jack is doing a great job, so I don’t feel the need to try. Andrew seems more interested in watching everything unfold with his father because Andrew tells the doctor to assess him first and talk to us later about their findings.

Typical Andrew.

With him focused elsewhere, the medical staff does as he asks and works without speaking to any of us. Only silently talking to one another as they work in the background to assess Andrew’s condition. Nathan wanders over to listen in, which makes me feel more relaxed, so I can freely listen to both conversations happening in the room at once.

After several minutes, Jack gives us a soft smile and a polite nod as he follows a nurse, the police, and Malcom into the hallway, allowing Andrew more privacy. Though, I’m pretty sure I heard Mr. Grumpy Pants grumble something about being denied watching what he spent so many years working for.

Also, typical Andrew.

I don’t have long. Once Jack finishes up, they’re likely to pull me out to answer my own set of questions about what happened in here. They have to, even with security footage—as long as no one tampered with the cameras in here.

Even though I’m confident I’ll be in the clear, it doesn’t matter. I’d go to prison any day for protecting Andrew. For protecting my friends, my family. I wouldn’t hesitate.

Even with so much going on in the room, I keep a tiny eye on everyone, my attention darting from one thing to the next. With Malcom secured while he was still in here, I could focus on the discussion between Jack and the police as well as the one between the doctor and nurses.

The medical team checked him over during the initial commotion, and I briefly heard them trading numbers and noting charts about markings, noting new ones. They’d listened to his heart and lungs, then checked his blood pressure and pupils.

Once everything in the room quiets with Malcom leaving, Andrew begrudgingly turns his attention back to the doctor.

“Mr. Shaw, I’m Dr. Pope, the physician assigned to your care. How are you feeling?”

“Uh, thirsty… confused. What the fuck is going on? One minute I’m waking up in a weird room with my girl all bloody, then I realized the weird room is in a hospital, and the next minute my father is getting arrested. I know what I saw. I just need someone to piece it together for me.”

I smile at his short tone. He’s showing remarkable patience compared to how he used to behave when irritated but seeing that spark in him still warms my heart. He’s not just alive… He’s him. He’s himself, and it’s beautiful.

Grumpy and beautiful.

The doctor looks pointedly at the nurse and gives a curt nod, silently giving an order before turning back to Andrew. “We’ll get you some ice chips. Do you remember why you’re at the hospital? Do you remember anything that happened?”

The nurse had turned and walked away the second the doctor nodded at her, obviously knowing exactly what he wanted. Ice chips for Andrew.

The door clicks with her exit, and Andrew closes his eyes for several seconds. “I remember being in my car on the interstate. I was on the phone, and someone ran me off the road. I don’t remember much after that.”

“You were in a pretty severe accident with several other vehicles. Thankfully, there were no casualties.”

The nurse is back with a cup of ice chips, a spoon, and a hand towel. I turn and give her a gentle smile, silently asking for the cup. She returns my smile and hands me both before moving toward Andrew. She lifts the head of his bed while I settle into position next to him.

His eyes stay on mine as I feed him a couple of ice chips with shaking hands. I can feel everyone else’s eyes on us, but I don’t care.

Andrea reaches out to still my shaking hand. “Let me. You need to tend to your nose, baby.”

I stop at that, remembering that I’m still covered in blood. I’ve been so focused on Andrew and still settling from my adrenaline rush that my pain was long forgotten. But like someone calling your attention to a cut you didn’t know you had, now it hurts like hell.

I force a smile—because the pain makes it difficult for anything genuine—and hand over the cup. The nurse hands me the towel that she must have brought for me.

I reach out and take it from her. “Thank you.”

The doctor continues talking as I clean myself up some. There isn’t much use without a shower and a lot of makeup to cover the bruising, but I do my best. My nose hurts like hell, and I worry it’s broken.

Dr. Pope clears his throat, drawing my attention. “I’d like to run some tests, starting with the CT scan that was derailed.” He gives Andrew a stern but kind stare, then turns to me. “We need to check that nose out, too. So, now it’s your turn.”

I only nod in agreement.

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