Diablo’s words hit me in the chest.
He was right. Jacob had fought to keep me alive; he’d taken a bullet for me and almost sacrificed everything because he loved me.
Now it was my turn to fight for him.
The door opened, and Bones appeared. “You want to see him?”
I nodded eagerly, and within seconds, I was up in Diablo’s arms, and he was carrying me out the door. Chairs were lining the corridor, filled with bikers. Men in leather cuts even sat on the floor with their backs against the wall as they waited for news of their brother.
Murmurs of greeting and well wishes went up, and I caught sight of Gambit and Trick standing together with their backs to the wall.
“Tell the lazy bastard to wake up, Saint,” Trick called out in his hybrid Irish accent.
Chuckles went up, and I tried to smile too, but my heart wasn’t in it. I just needed to see Jacob, to hold him, and tell him I was there and that I loved him.
Whatever happened, I needed him to know that.
It was weird because I thought Jacob’s room would be deathly silent with machines beeping and an atmosphere you could cut with a knife, but as Diablo carried me over the threshold, we were met with soft laughter.
My wide-eyed stare slashed toward the bed, greedy to catch sight of Jacob. I sucked in a sharp intake ofbreath when I saw my guy laid out on his back with a breathing tube down his throat. My pulse began to pound with the sudden, desperate need to get to him, to touch him and let him know I was there.
I took in the older couple sat by his bed, and then I was met by icy-blue eyes identical to Jacob’s and I almost lost my shit. Instead, I took a fortifying breath and murmured, “Hi. I’m Saint.”
“Oh my God,” the woman breathed, her hands flying to her mouth. “Look at her, Doug. She’s perfect.” She launched off her chair and rushed toward me, taking my hand and walking with me as Diablo carried me toward the bed.
“I’m Kathy, Jake’s mom, and this is his dad, Doug,” she said excitedly. “We’re so happy to meet you.”
Diablo stooped down to place me gently on the mattress beside Jake, then he straightened to his full height and folded his arms across his chest.
I turned to Kathy, taking in her pretty face and Doug’s obvious similarity to Jacob. “I wish we could’ve met under better circumstances.”
“He’s gonna pull through, darlin’,” Doug rumbled. “Jake’s a stubborn mule as well as a fighter.”
I turned back toward Jacob and gently smoothed my fingers over his temple.
His skin was surprisingly warm, but the sickly grey transparency of it made my heart ache. Jacob’s brow was smooth in sleep, and he looked impossibly handsome. I yearned for his eyes to flutter open and pull me into the icy-blue depths that I’d written into a hundred songs during the years since we met.
“Has there been any sign of him waking up?” I asked.
“No,” Kathy said softly. “But that’s good. Both Sophie and Grayson think the way forward is to keep him in a medically induced sleep to allow his body timeto heal. They’ll give him a couple of days and wean him off the medication, and if he doesn’t wake up himself, they’ll put him back under for a few more days.”
“So, it’s a waiting game?” I asked.
“Yeah, darlin’,” Doug murmured, leaning forward to inspect my bandaged shoulder. “And how are you doin’?”
“Good, thanks to Jacob,” I responded nervously. “I’m sorry. It was all my fault. He got hurt because he was protecting me.”
Doug held up a hand to silence me. “Don’t wanna hear that bull. You never shot him, Saint, that asshole did and he was seriously whacked. Neither of you could’ve known. Plus, he was paid to protect you, and Jake’s the kind of man who takes his responsibility seriously.”
“He would’ve protected her anyway, Doug,” Kathy snapped. “He’s in love with her.” One eyebrow lifted, and her lips pursed into an angry line. “Don’t listen to him, Saint.”
“Didn’t mean it like that,” Doug grunted.
“You never do,” she clipped. “But you still always manage to put your foot in it.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “See what I have to put up with? It’s like living with a fucking Banshee.”
“I can’tbelieveyou, Douglas Irons,” Kathy bit out. “We met Saint thirty seconds ago, and already you dropped an f-bomb. What must she think of us?”
