Page 14 of True Abandon

With a quivering lip, I looked down and kicked a stone on the ground. “But, since I can’t date, you’re not asking me out.”

“Since you can’t date I’m gonna ask you to do all of that as friends.” He released his hands from his pockets and grinned. “Except at the end of the night I’m gonna park my car around the corner so your daddy can’t see my kiss you so good you won’t be able to deny me a second non-date again.”

I run my fingers through his platinum locks. The strands are dry from bleaching, but I caress my hand through it again, feeling the tendrils as they weave between my fingers.

In another world, he could have been a decent man. In another world, all this beauty would be put to good use instead of the villain he became. In another world, he could have been mine as once promised. Instead, he became the devil.

“Is this heaven?”

The low, dry voice beneath me causes me to jolt, releasing my hand from his head and jumping back.

“Did I die?” He speaks again, his voice sounding like he’s in desperate need of a glass of water.

My head spins. My body is frozen except for the erratic swirling in my gut and thoughts.

I look down and see Jackson Davis staring back at me for the first time in nine years.

chapter THREE

“St. Peter opened the gates.” He has a smile on his face, and his eyes are glazed over in mild hallucination.

My body trembles. “You’re not dead.”

He starts to get up, but falls back down, clutching his arm in pain. His head rolls back as he bites down and clenches his eyes tightly shut.

I try to focus on anything but him: the awful green walls, the fluorescent light over his bed, the faux-leather recliner in the corner, the brown tray table with the Pepto Bismal-pink water jug, or the catheter tube peeking out at the bottom of his bed. Yes, anything but him.

Of course, that fails.

Jax rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. When his eyes are open, he takes another look in my direction and blinks a few times. His brows furrow in slight confusion. The glazed-over look is now gone, and in its place is realization and surprise.

“Then this must be hell,” he announces before dropping his head on the pillow and staring at the ceiling.

I clench my teeth and squint at him. “Well, good to know you’re not dead,” I says as I turn around and head toward the door.

“How did you know I was here?” he calls out, his voice deeper than before.

I stop. Speaking into the open air, I reply, “Your sister. Apparently, I’m the only person she thought to reach out to. You burned a lot of bridges.”

“Surprised to see one’s still standing.”

Revolted by his audacity to even think we still have ties to one another, I proceed toward the door, only to find it opening as I approach.

“Sorry. Almost hit you there,” a nurse apologizes as she walks in and then speaks to Jax. “Good. You’re up. How’s the pain, honey?” She checks the bag of fluids hanging from the metal post by his bed waiting for his answer.

“Like I broke my fucking body,” he says, and I want to punch the disdain off his face. He’s the idiot that got himself into this predicament. At least he could be kind to the nurse trying to help him.

She doesn’t seem bothered by it. “I’ll up your drip. The morphine will kick in soon.”

“Is Dr. Abler on his way?” I ask the nurse.

“Who’s that?” Jax’s chest constricts from what I can only assume is the blinding pain of his injuries.

“He’s the surgeon that should be looking at your leg.” I give my attention to the nurse. “How long can he sit here until infection sets in?” My words demonstrate more concern than they should.

“Dr. Abler is on his way.” She lifts the blanket from Jax’s lower body, looks at his wound, and breathes in sharply. “That’s quite a break you have there. You’re still clean, but we’ll try to get you into surgery soon. This damn hurricane has us over capacity.”

I take a step toward her, my hands out in exasperation. “What happens if you lose power? Can you still operate?”