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He raked his fingers through his already mussed hair, eyes wild. “What the fuck happened?”

Grayson was behind him like they had come in together. “Looks like an attempted murder,” he muttered. “I have a couple of my guys on the scene with the cops. The plates on the car were obstructed, though nearby cameras did pick up the make and model, but the windows were tinted. We’re doing everything we can.”

“I was going to the car,” I explained. My voice sounded far away, like it was coming from someone else. “He saw the car behind me and threw himself on top of me. If it wasn’t for him…” A sob tumbled over my lips before I could help it.

“We’ll get more from him when he wakes up after surgery,” Grayson offered.

“If he wakes up after surgery,” I whispered. They had let me wash my hands, and I did as thorough a job as I could, but there was still dried blood under my nails. I was in a hospital gown, but my bloody clothes were waiting for me over the back of a plastic chair nearby. How could a person live after losing all that blood?

“I’ll get you home.” Jackson’s arms encircled me gently this time, holding me close against his chest so I could feel his heart pounding. Shouldn’t I feel better being held like this? Comforted by his warmth, calmed by his presence?

I flinched away from his embrace again, but it wasn’t discomfort this time. “I don’t want to leave until I know he’s out of surgery,” I insisted. “It’s not right. I want to be here.”

“It could take a long time,” Grayson pointed out. “But I’ll stick around. You should go home… get some rest.”

“He’s right,” Jackson agreed, turning toward the chair where my clothes waited. His features drew together like he was pained when he saw the state they were in. “I should have thought to bring you something else to wear. I was in such a hurry to get to you.”

I heard him and understood what he was saying, but I couldn’t respond. I was empty inside, staring without actually seeing him. I might as well have been looking at a stranger. Is this shock? I had heard about it before, but never felt it until now, if that was what I was feeling. It had to be. I couldn’t think of another explanation, but then I couldn’t really think, either. I could only wonder what if…

Rather than make me wear the oversized sweatshirt I’d been in earlier, Jackson gave me his suit jacket to wear out of the hospital. It wasn’t easy to leave, but now that a little time had passed, I wanted nothing more than to be home with Liam. Mom was probably worried sick, too, even with the updates I’d given her while waiting to be looked at. I just wanted to be home where things made sense.

“Grayson is going to find out who did this,” Jackson grunted the words while leading me to his car with an arm around my waist. “And they’re going to pay, believe me.”

I didn’t have it in me to respond. Instead, I settled for nodding once I was in the passenger seat, wincing from the discomfort of settling my sore body against the leather.

“What do you need?” he asked once we set off, anger and tension ringing out in his voice.

“I want to go home.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes. Try to relax.”

Relax. Someone took three shots at me tonight, and he wanted me to relax. It was the sort of thing people said to each other in situations like this when there was nothing else they felt they could say. He touched a hand to my knee, and it was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture, but still, I felt nothing. It was like my leg was asleep or something.

It wasn’t until we reached the house and I stepped inside that reality leaked through the fog.

Mom was tearful after giving me a gentle hug. “I’ll heat you up some dinner,” she offered, dabbing her eyes.

“You don’t have to,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m not hungry. But I would like some tea once I’m cleaned up.”

“You’ve got it, honey.” She wore an uncertain look when her gaze brushed over Jackson, standing beside me, but it didn’t seem like he noticed. He was too busy being torn between hovering over me and looking out the window like he was making sure nobody was out there. The shiver ran through me at the idea, and it somehow gave me the clarity I was lacking until then.

“Why don’t you take a shower?” he asked once Mom went to the kitchen. “I’ll have an extra guy out there tonight, just in case.”

Yes, it was all clear now, and it made me shake my head while the rest of me revolted against the idea. “I don’t want that. I mean, this is not how I want to live.”

His brow furrowed, and his amber eyes darkened. “It’s not how I want you to live, but we’re going to get through this.”

“You’re not understanding me.” Then again, how could he? I barely understood myself, my thoughts racing, ideas coming at me a mile a minute. “This is not a good idea. I can’t do this anymore.”

“What are you talking about? Can’t do what?”

“This. Any of it.” Pointing down the hall, I whispered, “My son is in there, asleep, unaware I could’ve died tonight. I might never have come home to him, and why?”

How could he stare at me like he didn’t understand? “Well, we’re not quite sure of that yet.”

His placid attitude only pissed me off, pouring gasoline on what was already burning in my chest. “Aren’t we? Because here’s how I see it, Jackson. Since I got involved with you, I’ve had my tires slashed, I’ve been stalked and threatened, and tonight someone tried to kill me. Now, what is the common denominator in all of this? Because until now, nothing like this has ever happened to me. I didn’t have to worry about my son’s safety.”

Finally, something got through to him.