Page 8 of Golden Ruin

That should steady me, but there’s a disconnect between his claim and what my mind tracks as the last time I laid eyes on our son.

Sweat coats my forehead, and my heart’s racing a mile a minute. It’s like I’m still there, in the house, surrounded by flames, by the unbearable heat. The last thing I remember is holding Jax to my chest, doing my best to shield him from the blaze.

But then… everything went dark.

Dread hits me at full speed, knocking the air right out of me. Sterling seems to sense that I’m spiraling, because he squeezes tighter. His heartbeat is steady against my face, and when he brings me closer, the softness of his t-shirt against my cheek brings back memories I don’t allow to linger.

Ever.

“I need to see him.”

“Lex…” Sterling takes a breath, and hearing my name in that tone calls me out of the fire and back to the present as we lock eyes. “Listen to me. He’s with your mom and Benny. He’s fine. I wouldn’t have let him leave my sight if he wasn’t.”

He stares, holding my gaze until I believe him. And despite what my mind is screaming at me, I do. Mostly because I’m certain he wouldn’t be here if Jaxon needed him.

My thoughts snag on that detail.

He’s here.

With me.

I pull away and don’t make eye contact, still trying to convince myself any of this is even real. But then the white-hot stinging sensation on my right arm grounds me.

“Shit.” The pain takes hold fast, running deep as my head falls against the pillow.

“What’s wrong?” Sterling asks, and I don’t miss the concern bleeding through his tone. “What do you need?”

“My arm,” is all I can get out, but he already has the remote in hand, pressing the call button for the nurse.

The only sound in the room is my heavy breathing while I try to push through the pain. In my peripheral vision, I watch Sterling drop back down onto his seat, but he doesn’t look comfortable. He’s on the edge of the chair, elbows resting on his knees while he stares at me.

“You were out for a while. From the meds the doctors gave you to treat your burns,” he says, and I try not to guess how bad it is.

“Just my arm?”

I brace myself for his response.

“Your arm, your hand,” he explains. “The nurse said it’s second-degree burns. They’ll have to be treated, and you’ll have limited mobility for a couple weeks, but there’s no need for surgery.”

That only comes as a small relief, because I’m currently in agony. I blow out a sharp breath, shaking my foot as a distraction, but it doesn’t work.

“Fuck!”

My hands tighten into fists, and Sterling’s on his feet again. “Hey, focus on me. Mind over matter. You know that.”

He sounds so matter-of-fact, and it reminds me of being in the delivery room when I had Jax. The athlete in Sterling took over, and he coached me through the birth like he was my personal trainer. I hated every second of it at the time, but his method worked. He got me out of my head, focused on my breathing, and the next thing I knew, Jax was here. Safe, beautiful, the new addition I didn’t realize I needed.

“Fuck!” I grit out, feeling like my arm is literally on fire.

“Don’t focus on that. Focus on me,” he says again, and I turn my head toward him. “Tell me about tonight. What do you remember?”

I breathe deep, letting my eyes fall closed as I recall the details.

“We got home from Blue’s event, Jax wanted a sandwich, so I made him one before his bath. Then, I read him a story and texted you about the frog. He fell asleep right after that.”

“Then what? You woke up to the fire?”

Flashes of fighting my way to Jaxon race through my head, and I nod. “Yeah.”