“I. Don’t. Want. You. Here.” Each word is stronger than the last, until Jasper is practically shouting, though his voice is thick, the words slurring with exhaustion—or maybe pain.
“Well, that makes two of us. You’re an asshole when you’re on morphine, Jas.” AJ grabs his jacket and Stetson, his voice dropping to a whisper as he adds, “And all I’ve got left.”
Jasper doesn’t react when AJ stalks out of the room. Only turns his unfocused gaze to me. “You’ll have to…excuse me, ma’am. Pretty drugged up here. Mind tellin’ me who you are again?”
“Emmylou Marsh with Channel 5, Lieutenant Blade.” I hold out my hand, only to drop it seconds later when it clicks that the sling won’t let him return the gesture.
Jasper fumbles for the bed remote, then groans as he tries to get more comfortable. The pulley system keeping his leg immobile foils his attempt. His left hand starts to shake.
“Let me help.” Tucking my tablet under my arm, I snag the controller, cradle his hand in mine, and curl his fingers into position. He’s warm, his skin rough and covered with tiny scratches from the explosion. “Oh, shit. Did I hurt you?”
“No, ma’am,” he manages through gritted teeth. “Breathin’ does that all on its lonesome.”
In another few seconds, he’s raised the bed enough for us to have a conversation, but the effort cost him. With a sigh, his eyes drift closed.
I should let him rest. But if I go back to the newsroom with nothing, Danny will never let me live it down. And it’ll be that much harder for me to convince anyone I belong in a more competitive market.
Sinking down into the chair AJ was using, I cross my legs at the ankles and balance my tablet on my knee. Before I can finish searching for “AJ Stone,” Jasper coughs weakly.
“Sorry,” he rasps. “Can’t stay awake for shit.”
“Lieutenant Blade, I don’t want to?—”
“Jasper.” His chapped lips twitch into what might be a frown. “Not…on the job at the moment.” After another long pause with his eyes mostly closed, he clears his throat. “You said…Emery? Emily?”
“Emmylou Marsh. Emi.”
“Emi. I’d shake your hand, but…” Jasper nods toward his right arm with a heavy sigh. “If Media Relations won’t talk to you, I shouldn’t either.”
I flash him one of my practiced smiles and hope he doesn’t notice the grief lingering in the depths of my eyes. “Then why haven’t you kicked me out already?”
“Spent all my piss and vinegar on my brother.” His words start to slur. “Can’t see much…at the moment, but you’re…a prettier sight than these walls.”
A flush creeps up my neck. It’s my job to look good. Always put together. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, short skirts and heels whenever I’m “on the clock.” Being hit on is a daily occurrence. Sometimes even an hourly one.
Hell, there’s a local subReddit where a few hundred of Austin’s least respectable dude-bros post screen captures of my news reports so they can critique every outfit choice and speculate about my menstrual cycle and cup size.
But Jasper Blade doesn’t seem like one of those guys.
I sit back and drop my facade. The perfect smile, the composure. I’m not Emmylou Marsh, on-air reporter anymore. I’m just Emi. “Is there anything you need, Lieutenant—uh, Jasper? Water? Another blanket?”
“To be able to piss standin’ up.” After a beat, he swears under his breath. “Fucking hell. Sorry. My head is killin’ me and my filter’s broke as fuck.”
“Concussion? How close were you to the blast?” Concern softens my tone. I shouldn’t push him. The man almost died.
“Not close enough,” he whispers. “You should go.”
“Jasper, if I go back to my news director with nothing, he’ll give this story to Danny Riscaldo. He’s a misogynistic, sanctimonious ass who thinks he’s better than everyone else at the station. Is there anything you can tell me? What were you, Matt Schaffer, and Jonas Urbanski doing at that warehouse in the middle of the night?”
The shift in his expression is almost instantaneous. Tension stiffens his entire body. He wraps his fingers around the bed rail and pulls himself up a little straighter. “Schaffer and Urbanski were two of the bravest men I knew, Ms. Marsh. They got thirteen civilians out of that warehouse before it blew—while under fire. Urbanski died in my arms. You want a story? Report on them.”
His sudden burst of strength fades away, and he collapses against the pillows. “I’m done talkin’. Leave. Now.”
“I’m sorry, Jasper. Truly.” I can’t get out of here fast enough. Some days, I hate the person my job requires me to be. Today is one of them.
Chapter One
Present Day
