Holy crap! You went head-to-head with a woman and a gun? You’re a badass! Hope the flight is smooth, and text me when you land. Can’t wait to get home and hear all about it in person.
After she gave his message a heart reply, she powered down her phone for takeoff, smiling as she thought of him and wondered how long it would be before she could see him.
* * *
Jesse had walked around like a crooked arrow all day and was in one hell of a mood by the time he returned to the hospital and took the elevator to the ICU. As he approached Memphis’s room, he saw one of the nurses he recognized and would’ve nodded to her if his freaking head weren’t frozen at a tilt.
Christ have mercy, he thought. Nothing was helping, not four ibuprofens, nor the muscle balm he’d bought at the pharmacy. As the day had gone on, he’d become surlier with every passing hour without relief from the pain in his neck—or the one in his heart as it’d become clear that he needed to do something about Memphis Rose.
He still wasn’t sure what he would say to her as he approached her room—and found it empty. Spinning around to chase after the nurse, he asked where she was. Surely if something had happened, they would’ve called him, right? Someone would’ve called him… Or would they? Who was he to her besides her boss and friend? Did he even qualify as a friend?
The thoughts, arriving one after the other like machine-gun fire, had him bending at the waist to process the sickening realization that he would’ve had no right to a phone call if the worst had happened. He’d never allowed himself to fully commit, so why would he be her point of contact?
“Are you all right?”
He forced himself to stand upright, and fuck, that hurt. “Where’s Memphis Rose Costello?”
“She was moved to a regular room earlier today.”
“Oh.”
“No one told you?”
When he tried to shake his head, he immediately regretted it.
She eyed him. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Slept wrong in the chair last night. Woke up crooked.”
“Ouch. Come to the desk. I’ll write down an over-the-counter med you can get that should help.”
“Thanks.”
At the desk, she produced a slip of paper with the name of the med and the number 471.
“That’s the room she was moved to.”
“Thank you.”
“She’s a special person,” the nurse added.
“Yes.”
“And her mother and grandmother are a couple of characters. We all enjoyed getting to know them.”
“Thanks for taking good care of her.”
“Are you two…”
“Yeah, we are,” he said with a deep sigh as the reality of the situation settled with unflinching certainty. “We are.”
“I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a drink sometime, but instead, I’ll hope for all the best for you and Memphis.”
“Thanks again for everything. Tell the others, too.”
“I will. Good luck to you.”
She had no way to know that he’d need all the luck he could get. On the fourth floor, he followed the noise to room 471, where Beatrice and Alberta held court. The three of them were laughing like they were at a party rather than in a hospital room after Memphis had been nearly killed.
