It grows louder as I try to sit up again, but I can’t. My chest caves in on top of my lungs.
“Hey.” Cole’s face appears above me. “Hey, it’s ok. You’re ok. It’s just me.” His warm hand slides against my cheek.
I pull in bits of air, staring into his eyes that I can barely make out through the blue glow of the room.
He leans forward and presses his lips to my forehead. “You’re ok. I’m right here. Shhh.”
He stays there, close, waiting for my body to stand down.
I try to swallow, but it feels like pouring sand down my throat.
He pulls away, holding my gaze until my breaths settle into a more normal rhythm. “You’re ok.” I’m not sure if he’s telling himself or me.
He takes my hand again and eases back. “They said you could have a little water. You want some?”
I nod, my eyes tracking him as everything slowly comes into focus. I peer down, finding my arm tucked in a sling over a hospital gown and. . .
Flashbacks flood my mind. Racing through the dark streets. The dark parking lot. Cole stepping off the bus. A dark profile leaning over the hood of a car, taking aim. Running and—
He’s ok.
I close my eyes, my throat burning in a whole new way.
“Here.” He puts a straw to my lips, and I sip, the room-temperature liquid washing down the ache and threat.
He runs a hand over my head. “Just rest. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He sets the Styrofoam cup aside and wraps his hand around mine again, pulling a chair flush with the side of the bed.
I close my eyes, surrounded by the safety of his presence.
He’s ok. It’s all that matters. I want him to stay with me tonight, but tomorrow, he has to go.
This is my life. It’s what I was made to do. And Cole was made for so much more than this.
Chapter 44
COLE
I step off the elevator, ignoring the pulsing pain in my head that just won’t give. Four ibuprofen and two hours of sleep haven’t touched it. An hour meeting with the authorities to provide my statement, followed by the long-ass phone call with my team management, also didn’t help. Then I spoke with Rob to draft a response to the press, but my mind has never left this hospital.
The sterile smell of antiseptic mixed with stale coffee churns my stomach. I round the corner, and Tracker rests up against the wall outside her door.
A few hours ago, he kicked me out, promising to call if anything changed. I obeyed, knowing she was in good hands, but he’s stuck with me now.
“Hey. Is she ok?”
His head lifts from the wall. “A string of four-letter words filtered out a second ago that I’m not sure I’ve ever heard used together.” One side of his mouth curls. “She’s ok. They’re helping her to the bathroom and whatever else they need to do.”
He faces me, leaning one shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. I watch his amusement shift into protection mode. I recognize it. I’ve seen Ryder do the exact same thing a hundred times, and I suddenly feel like I need my pads and helmet for whatever is coming.
His gaze holds mine. “She’s going through a lot and won’t make this easy on you.”
The pain in my head pulses a little stronger, trying to understand what he’s getting at.
He inhales, taking his time as if debating whether to say more.
I wait, my muscles tensing in the long pause.
“She’s. . .not like anyone else, and I can see you care about her.”
