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“Fight?” I give a strangled bark of laughter. “He was shot. What do you wanna bet it was our dad who shot him? How do I fight…?”
“Talk to him, R. Don’t let him slip away. If he reaches the hospital alive, chances are he’ll make it. Tell him to stay. He’ll listen to you, little bro.”
He stayed here for my dad to find him because he listened to me. This is all my fault. But the urgency in Ocean’s voice finally registers.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. There’s a lot of blood, and he’s unconscious. But he’s alive.”
He is. And if it’s my fault, I’ll sure as hell fight death for him. Anger seeps through the shock, heating up my chest.
I’ll be damned if I let him be taken away from me, too.
The ride to the hospital is even more dreamlike. Somehow I’m allowed to sit inside, by Jason’s side. I don’t think I’ve let go of his hand since I entered the apartment and found him lying in a puddle of his own blood. There’s a drip now going into his other arm, with plasma and fluids and God knows what else.
I watch the paramedics clean and bandage the wound, make Jason comfortable, and I pray to some god I’d forgotten since Livvy died for him to be okay.
I’d do anything. Anything. Please. I’ll give myself up, I’ll give up my soul. I’ll forgive Simon. I’ll forgive my father. Hell, I’ll forgive myself if that’s what it takes. Whatever is required for a miracle.
He has to live. I think my heart is broken. It’s as if my chest has been laid open with a sledgehammer, and the beat is fractured.
“Jase. Stay with me. Come on, stay with me.” My mouth is dry, my voice hoarse from repeating those words over and over. “I can’t… can’t do this without you.” I rub at his cold knuckles with my thumbs. “Do you hear me? Dammit, Jase, you can’t leave me behind.”
The ambulance rocks as we turn someplace. The paramedic checks the bag of fluids. His face is impassive. Or is it sad?
“Listen to me,” I tell Jase, and my broken heart aches as I stare at his bloodless face. “You can’t go. I promised you a lifetime of hugs, and you’re not getting out of that so easily. You’re staying, Jason Vega, because I love you, and I’m not fucking letting you go. You’d better be listening to me.”
The ambulance stops, and I bend my head over his hand, tears slipping down my face. Dammit, I can’t remember the last time I cried.
And under my wet cheek, his fingers twitch. A barely-there movement, a caress, and I lift my head, expecting to see his eyes open.
Nothing has changed. He’s still out, but I know what I felt. It’s enough to give me hope.
A flesh wound.
Sounds like nothing, but it’s actually a pretty big wound. There’s a fucking hole in his thigh, his femur bone is broken, he’s lost an awful lot of blood… and yeah, Rafe was right. No big arteries were hit, and that was damn lucky. The bullet must have hit the fallen table, losing some speed, then it went through Jason and exited, lodging somewhere in my kitchen.
If we hadn’t arrived home when we did, if we’d been a little late, he’d be dead from blood loss by now.
I shiver and rub at my arms. As it is, he’s just come out of surgery. I’m waiting to be called inside when he wakes up.
There are more people sitting in the waiting area, talking in low voices. The Damage Boyz. The Inked Brotherhood.
Jesse Lee.
He’s standing there, leaning against the wall, his normally tanned skin pale. His girl, Amber, is holding his hand. He looks scared. He and Jason, they’re friends, they have known each other for many years. I can’t imagine how he feels.
I’ve known Jason for far less time, and yet I’m so damn terrified I can’t get my heart to slow down its frantic beating. Until Jason opens his eyes and looks at me, until he goes home with me, I don’t think I’ll relax enough to eat or sleep.
However, my brother apparently thinks I can, because he tries again to shove a sandwich and a coffee into my hands. “You need to eat something,” he insists. “We’ve been here all night. If you pass out on me, I swear to God, R, I’m gonna pretend I don’t know you.”
That threat works its way through the haze that hasn’t lifted since last night. I take the offerings even if I’m not sure I can swallow anything at this point. The smell of the coffee makes me wanna throw up.
“The police are looking for Dad,” Ocean says. “And the Mob is descending on the MC as we speak.”
Whatever. I don’t care. I don’t give a damn.
I failed Jason.
