The warmth of a hand resting on top of hers pulled her out of the endless loop of pain and heartache. She raised her gaze to find Colton sitting next to her.
“You can’t lose it now. He needs you.”
He was right. Jackson needed her. But not this version of her. He needed someone strong enough to face her own battles before she could assist him in fighting his.
She pulled out her phone and scrolled back to the text Jackson had sent her. She copied the number of the counselor and pasted it into a new message and started drafting.
Aja: Hi, I’m Aja Everett, a friend of Jackson Dean’s. He thought you might be able to help me with some trouble I had not too long ago.
She hit Send and was about to push her phone into her pocket when she felt it vibrate in her hand. Surprised at such a quick response and slightly afraid to read it, she tapped the screen and read the waiting message.
Jessica: Hi, I’m Jessica Muñoz. Jackson mentioned you might be in contact. I’m glad you reached out. Would you like to drop by my office or FaceTime for a chat?
Aja: Yes, I would.
“You okay?”
Aja finished texting the counselor and put her phone away before she looked up to answer Colton. “No, I’m not. And I haven’t been for a really long time if I’m honest. But I will be.”
He offered her a comforting smile. “This isn’t your fault. You know that, right?”
The way her emotions were tumbling around, she wasn’t as certain of that fact as she wanted to be. “I wish I’d listened when he tried to warn me about Mat.”
Colton squeezed her hand. “Whether you went to Mat tonight or not, this reckoning was coming. Whatever he was mixed up in was always going to spill over onto you. The moment that happened, Jackson would have no choice but to do everything he could to keep you safe.”
“Have you heard any word yet from your team? Has anyone figured out what the hell Mat was actually wrapped up in?”
Colton shook his head. “Not a clue. But don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. We’re taking his hard drive and his filing cabinets back to headquarters. It will probably take our cyber team at least a couple of weeks to comb through his digital files.”
She rubbed the base of her neck, trying to get rid of the tension pulling at the muscles there. She needed this to be over.
“Don’t worry about it. He’s dead. He can’t hurt you anymore. Let us worry about finding out what he was up to. Meanwhile, you just focus on you and that friend of mine who went and got himself shot.”
“Family for Jackson Dean?”
Aja stood without thinking. A man in green scrubs walked over to them. Colton stood and offered the man his hand to shake. After greeting him, Colton flashed his badge. “I’m Ranger Adams. I’m investigating Mr. Dean’s shooting. The family hasn’t arrived yet, but what can you tell me about his condition?”
The doctor glanced at Colton’s badge. “Hello, I’m Doctor Cooper. Mr. Dean’s surgery went well. He’s a very lucky man. The bullet came close to nicking his axillary artery. A centimeter or two in another direction and he could’ve bled out. Fortunately, that wasn’t the case. We removed the bullet, and he’s resting comfortably in recovery. He won’t be chopping any wood over the next few weeks, but he should recover with little fanfare.”
The knot sitting in Aja’s chest slightly loosened, and she could breathe around the obstruction. He would be fine.
“Give us a chance to get him settled in a room, and someone will bring you back to see him shortly. I doubt he’ll be able to assist your investigation until the anesthesia wears off, but you’re welcome to wait until he’s awake.”
The tension in her chest continued to subside. She still wouldn’t feel better until she saw him, but knowing his prognosis was good took most of the pressure off.
When they were escorted to his room, Colton stepped aside for her to enter. “Aren’t you joining me?”
“Trust me, Aja, it ain’t my face he’ll want to see when he wakes up. I’ll wait until Storm gets back from his coffee run.”
She walked into the dim room. Slowly stepping closer to the bed, she took in the somber picture of Jackson lying so still against the stark white linens.
“Jackson?” He didn’t move, didn’t answer. She walked to his right side, too afraid to look at the injured arm on the left. She pulled a nearby chair to his bedside and sat, gently wrapping her fingers around his hand and lifting it to her cheek.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you.” The tears she’d been fighting since they’d taken him out of that office building unconscious on a gurney fell unchecked. She didn’t care how weak she looked, she couldn’t stop them, nor the flood of fear and anxiety she’d tried to keep buried. “This is my fault. And if you never want to see me again because of my stupidity, I will completely understand.”
He didn’t answer. Except for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and the beep of the monitors connected to him, the only sounds in the room were coming from her.
“You saved me. You put yourself between me and that maniac and took the bullet that was meant to kill me. I’m torn between undying gratitude and wanting to wring your damn neck. Why would you do that for me? Why would you risk everything to save someone as hardheaded and unworthy as me?” She held his hand tighter as her shoulders shook and her words became thick sobs.
