He nodded and disappeared out the door again. A moment later, the gun fired a few times.
There was nothing to do but snuggle up beside Noah and wait for help.
And thank God they were all alive.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
The bright hospital lights over Noah’s bed made his head pound. This was taking forever. “Can’t you just sew it up?”
“It’s not that simple,” the nurse said. “We have to be careful with head wounds. And gunshot wounds.”
He winced as she pulled debris or something out of his wound, then dabbed antiseptic, the chemical burn nothing compared to the thundering in his skull.
“It just grazed me.”
“Mmm.” Her lips pinched closed as she tortured him a little more. “You’re lucky. Half an inch to the right, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. Or any conversation.”
“Not lucky. Blessed. God protected me.”
Her eyes narrowed like she wasn’t sure about that.
Through the open door, voices drifted from somewhere nearby—Delaney’s gentle tone, Jasper’s deeper one, and a woman’s voice he didn’t recognize.
When the nurse turned away, he sat up. Maybe not the smartest move. His vision swam.
She must’ve heard because she turned back. “Lie down, Mr. Aylett. The doctor will be here to examine you, and then we’ll close that wound.”
He pushed to his feet and stood still through a wave of dizziness.
“Sir, sit down.”
“I’ll be right back. I need to check on my…daughter.”
Wasn’t technically true, but she didn’t know that.
He stepped into the hall and made his way toward his family’s voices. He found them around the corner and in a small exam space, crowded around a bed.
Charlotte lay curled on her side, thumb in her mouth. Her eyes were closed.
Delaney stood beside her, one hand resting protectively on her shoulder.
Jasper stood just inside the door, arms crossed, his face drawn with exhaustion. He shifted when he saw Noah, making room for him.
A middle-aged nurse with graying hair gave Noah a disapproving look, then continued to address Jasper. “The long-term effects of trauma can be devastating if they’re not dealt with properly. Children Charlotte’s age are particularly vulnerable. Night terrors, regression, trust issues.”
“She’s already seeing a therapist,” Delaney said.
The nurse’s expression brightened. “Oh, that’s good to hear. Consistency is key, especially after an event like this.” She made a note on her clipboard, then looked at Jasper with approval. “You’re doing the right thing, getting her professional help.”
Jasper nodded, but Noah didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened.
“I just need to go over these instructions, and you can take her home.”
Jasper heaved a sigh from deep inside. “You need to tell him.” Jasper tipped his head toward Noah, his voice rough. “He’s her father.”
The nurse looked confused, glancing between Jasper and the clipboard in her hand. “I was told?—”
“He’s her father. I’m just…not.” He swallowed hard, arms tightening across his midsection as if he were holding himself together.
