“Don’t move,” I groan. “Please.” I soften my voice and she moves back, lifting my hand and placing it back on her leg. “Thank you.”
“It is a little funny,” Wes adds.
“You always defend him.” She shakes her head.
“Baby, he had a point-blank shot and missed. That’s hilarious in my book. The fucker couldn’t even kill me.”
“He should’ve never had the opportunity to try.”
“Is he in jail?” I ask.
“Yes. Judge denied bail due to his father’s connections. Attempted murder is quite the charge,” Wes says.
“He deserves to spend the rest of his life in a cage,” Prue snaps. “I hope he gets stabbed in there too. Icing on the fucking cake if you ask me.”
“Speaking of cake.” I smirk. “When can I fuck you?”
Her cheeks pinken as her eyes spin in circles. She is playing it off like she is so annoyed by the question, but I know her better than that.
“You’re going to have to earn that.”
“Is a gunshot wound not enough?”
“Enough for kidnapping me, handcuffing me to a bed and abandoning me in San Francisco? Not sure there are enough bullets in the world to make up for that.”
“Ha.” I laugh, grunting in pain. Why do I keep forgetting that my body is in agony? “Lucky for you, it looks like I’m a masochist.”
“On that note,” Wes pipes in, “I’m going to go. Just stopped by to drop off some food for Prue. You know she hasn’t left your side for a second.”
Prue shoots him another glare, and I dig my fingertips into her thigh until her eyes come back to me.
“I meant what I said. Don’t move.”
“God. You are such an asshole.” She rolls her eyes again.
“I’ll be back later,” Wes says, patting my foot. “Hopefully, you’ll be in one piece.”
“Not likely,” I say, grinning like a crazy person.
One should not be so happy to be in the amount of pain I’m in, but I’m fucking ecstatic. I didn’t die. Charles is in jail and Prue is by my side. What reason do I have to be unhappy right now?
“How are you?” she asks, once the door shuts. “Like really? If you’re in a lot of pain, I can ask the nurses to bring you something. They said sky’s the limit when it comes to pain management for all your wounds. I mean it was iffy if you’d even wake up. They didn’t even know if you’d be able to function.”
“I’m fucking fantastic.”
“Ben, you should see your chart. It’s a miracle you’re even alive.”
“You’re the only miracle I see.”
“God,” she groans, shifting her leg away from me. I reach forward, digging my fingers into her leg. She definitely is a little bit of a demon. “Sorry. I keep forgetting.” She moves back. “It’s just what you did was incredibly stupid.”
“But effective.”
“Not worth it. I’m not worth it.”
“Prue, baby, you are worth far more than one gunshot wound to the chest.”
“You’re insane.” She sighs. “I should have them transfer you to a mental hospital.”
