Fearless For Love (Lovelly #3) (34 page)

THIS WOMAN IS going to be the death of me. I swear to ever-loving God, I’m going to save her ass just so I can knock her over the head.

Right this second, I don’t know if I should be happy that she’s still alive, or frustrated because she’s managed to get in the way of my killing the coward that has her in a chokehold, that’s pressing a fucking gun to the side of her head. Fisher is standing guard just outside the room, and man, was I happy to see him. He found me a few minutes ago, cavalry in tow, and handed me an earpiece. The one that’s been channeling a steady stream of communications into my head since the moment I put it in place.

I’m going to have a lot of explaining to do once I’m brought in for debriefing. But that’s for another time. Another problem. I’m just grateful the strike team arrived when they did. It made locating Jess a hell of a lot easier.

With the exception of Stamos and his son, Fisher and I didn’t take any chances. I take a full assessment of the room. Two guys lay dead on the floor, Tony lying between them, and that’s it. It’s just me, Stamos, and Jess.

“You have nowhere else to run, Stamos,” I say, calm as a kitten. “Agents, cops . . . hell, the whole fucking government is here, swarming the place as we speak. And your men . . . well, there really isn’t much left of them. It’s over Stamos. You’re done.”

Stamos looks frantically from side to side, his hand tightening on Jess.

“Let her go, Stamos.” I keep my attention on him as I slowly step forward, drawing closer and closer. “Let her go, and I’ll put a bullet in your head. Nice and easy.” I take another, my aim steady, unwavering on my target.

Come on
,
sweetheart
,
get out of the way
.

“If she walks free, I’m a deadman. That’s your deal?”

“You’re not getting out of this, regardless. The only options you have are to die now or die a slow and painful death in prison.” His grip gets looser with indecision, and I take that second to assess him. He’s already bleeding profusely from his left foot, and his nose is broken. Is that all from Jess? Pride surfaces to swirl briefly through the rage still clouding my vision.

“Area one clear.”

“Area two clear.”

“Heading to the back . . .”

The litany of agents confirming information continues in my earpiece.

“Join me, Harrington,” Stamos says, sweat beading across his face. “My offer still stands. Clearly you’re someone with great potential, and I want you on my side. Think about it. We could be great together. Partners.”

I laugh, running the back of my hand under my nose. “Are you fucking kidding me? If I didn’t get giddy to jump on your bandwagon before, why the hell would I do that now? When you have the woman I love hostage?”

I know the second it leaves my mouth that I shouldn’t have said it. Stamos’s hands shake as the realization hits him. And I can see hope flair in his eyes. “I’ll kill her if you try anything funny.”

“Go ahead,” I challenge him, taking a big, threatening step forward. “I fucking dare you to kill her. You’ll be dead before she even hits the ground.” I laugh, taking another step toward him. “Do you really think I’d let you live? I’ve killed for a lot less And her”—I point to Jess with my gun—“she’s the love of my
fucking
life. So go ahead.” Psych 101 has always been my best subject. “Kill her and you’ll learn just how many bullet holes it’ll take to keep you conscious as you bleed to death.”

I see the panic in his eyes, the earlier hope completely diminished. I know I’ve said enough to make him shit his pants. And only part of it—the part about killing for less—is untrue.

“You have no way out of this. So I’ll count to five,” I warn him. “And you can decide whether or not you want to keep using my girl as your shield.”

“You—”

I aim my gun in his direction. “One.”

His eyes dart side to side.

“Two.”

He shoves Jess to the side and a loud crash reverberates through the room as she smashes into the table. He starts shooting, his aim wild and erratic, bullets flying everywhere.

“Five.” I fire. And then again.

Stamos falls to the ground, grabbing his shoulder and writhing in pain.

Damn. I missed.

“Fuck! Shit!” Stamos’s violent cries overpower the room.

But his screams fall on deaf ears as my gaze lands on Jess, laying crumpled where she fell, her right hand curled around her stomach.

“Jess!” I scream, running to her. I hear Fisher come into the room behind me, shouting, but I don’t pay any attention.

I fall to my knees next to her. I place a hand under her torso to lift her and feel something wet. That when I realize that she’s not just holding her stomach from the fall, she’s been hit.

“I’m okay,” she says with a weak smile. But then her eyes roll back.

“Don’t.” I smack her cheeks. “Keep those beautiful eyes open, sweetheart. Keep them on me.” I pull her into my arms, cradling her like a baby. Warm blood touches my knee, oozing from the back of her head and there’s a puddle on the carpet from the wound in her side.

Nononono
.

“Civilian down,” I cry into my earpiece. “I need a paramedic. I repeat, I need a paramedic.” I’m smack her face again, wanting, needing her to keep her eyes open. “Please, Jess. I love you. Don’t let go.”

Then, for the first time in a long time, I cry. Hot tears stream down my cheeks as I rock her gently, trying to keep her conscious, putting pressure on her side to stop the bleeding. I’d forgotten what the pain of losing someone felt like. How much stronger it is in reality than the version I’d been clinging to in my memory.

“Focus on my voice, Jess. Stay with me.”

“What the hell happened?” Fisher asks as he crouches at my side.

Jess smiles as she mumbles something. I put my ear to her mouth and realize that she’s humming a tune. It’s just barely audible, but she’s trying and that’s all I can ask.

“Atta girl.” I laugh through my tears.

Stamos’s manic laughter brings me out of my pain. I gently transfer Jess to Fisher and kiss her forehead.

“Keep her awake,” I order. I know he doesn’t need to be told twice.

I get to my feet and pick up my gun.

I walk toward Stamos, growing angrier with each step. “You fucking son of a bitch!”

“Go ahead, put a bullet in my head,” he taunts me from the ground, still clutching his bleeding shoulder.

“No.” I latch the safety on the gun and shove it in the back of my pants. “You don’t deserve to die easy.” Then I’m on him, throwing punch after punch, not really caring where the blows land. “I’m going to kill you slowly with my bare hands.”

He continues to laugh at me, spitting blood in my face as my fists rain down on him. “Don’t you get it? We’re bigger than you. You’ll never stop us.”

“Ah!” I roar, my hand ramming into his nose while he continues to laugh.

“I’ll be out in a week, and then I’m going to ruin you,” he snarls, spitting blood to the side. “You and your little whore. I’m going to ruin everything you’ve ever loved.”

Before I can start another round of punches, hands grab me from behind, pulling me off the fucker. I struggle against them.

“Get it together, Lovelly,” Wilson snaps. He’s got a vice grip on my left arm, while some no-name agent grabs my right.

I’m too pissed to let his words touch me. I jerk, trying to free myself so I can finish what I started.

“We’ve got him. You can stop now,” Wilson says. But all I hear is Stamos laughing. I relax long enough that Wilson and the agent let go, thinking I’m calm, and then I pull the gun from the back of my pants and point it at Stamos.

Wilson is yelling at me to stand down, while Stamos just laughs, his teeth bloody and his face sallow. I know this isn’t right, but the rage boiling inside me is too strong. Just one slip of the finger. That’s all it would take. Just one slip of the finger and he’s dead. I can do this. Just one—

“Harrington . . .” Fisher’s at my arm, his hand trying to get me to lower the gun. “Look. Look at Jessica.” That gets through to me and I turn my head in her direction. Two paramedics hover over her, getting ready to move her on a stretcher. “You need to keep a clear head, man. Go with her. I’ll get all of this taken care of.”

I jerk free from him and go to her. “Jess.”

I grab a hold of her hand and wrap mine around hers. Her eyes flutter, like she’s just waking up from a bad dream. “That’s it, sweetheart. Find your way back to me.” I coo into her ear. “Don’t leave me. Please. I need you.”

“Har—” Her voice is so low, so faint, that I wonder if I just imagined it. I pull back a little and look to her.

A small smile makes its way onto her mouth. Then her eyes flutter open, just a tad, but enough that she sees me.

I press my forehead to hers. “I’m right here, sweetheart, and I won’t let go.”

“Agent, we need to get her to a hospital,” one of the paramedics says.

“I’ll be right here,” I promise, and straighten, letting the paramedics work.

She opens her eyes wider. “I k-ow . . .” She blinks and then her pupils dilate as she reaches weakly for my hand.

Pop
.
Pop
.

My body jerks forward, and it feels like someone just shoved their hand through my shoulder. White hot pain follows, and I stagger into the stretcher, still not comprehending what happened.

“H-har—” I see her. Her beautiful face is twisted in horror, her eyes wide open. Blood splatters across her body and I start to realize it’s mine.

Pop
.

The paramedics duck, covering themselves as screams fill the air behind me. For some reason, I pivot around and stare into Stamos’s hate-filled eyes one last time, before the gun in his hand goes off again, hitting me square in my thigh.

The sound of guns firing overpowers my senses as I fall backward. Something warm streams down my leg, like red water cascading over it. I think I hear Jess screaming my name, but I can’t be sure.

Because all of a sudden, all I can see are the faces of my family—Hudson, Heath, Blake, Ace, Dad, Ivy, Mom, and . . . Jess. I see the first time we met, down by the river, and her face when she saw me checking out her ass. I see the night she saw me at the club after the fight, and the way she shivered when I placed my hands on her hips in the kitchen, her straddling me with a triumphant look on her face the night before.

But the face I remember most is the way she looked when I first told her that I loved her.

My breath catches in my throat. I close my eyes and follow her voice. She’s beckoning me to follow her, to chase her as she runs from me, laughing.

And vaguely, part of me realizes that this must be what it means to invite death with open arms.

THE WHITE HUE of the ceiling greets me as my heavy-hooded eyes open. I groan. It feels like I’ve been sleeping
forever
.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty, welcome back.”

I know that voice. I turn toward it, trying to get my bleary eyes to focus.

Vincent.

I attempt to smile, but damn, everything hurts. I groan instead.

He stands up and leans over. He runs his hand over my hair, soothing, the way he has many times before. “You had us all pretty worried, Jessy-girl.”

I’m not sure how I got here or why, or even where
here
is. “Wh—” I swallow, my throat dry as a sandpaper.

“Here, drink.” He supports the back of my neck, lifting my head as I try to sip some water.

“T-anks,” I reply.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles, but there’s worry etched into every part of his face. Like he hasn’t slept in days. His hand still runs over my head like he’s soothing a baby.

“Wh-t happ-d,” I try to ask, but words are just not my friends right now.

“From what everyone tells me, you and Harrington got into some bad crap and ended up getting shot. Well, him twice, you once.”

My eyes widen as his words jolt the foggy memories back to full color life. “Har—ry. Ha—” I try to sit up, only to fall back on the bed, my head feeling woozy.

“Take it easy, Jessy-girl.” Vincent’s hand is there supporting me. “He’s recovering. He’s fine. Or will be. Apparently, only one of the bullets was a threat. It hit him in his thigh, and he lost enough blood to need a transfusion—”

Oh my god
. “Is he—” I can’t even ask.

“He’ll survive. It’ll take him a few days to recover and it’ll be one hell of a recovery, but he’ll be fine. His shoulder, on the other hand—well, let’s just say that if he does throw another punch, he’s probably going to feel that for several days.” There’s a sort of grin on his face.

I adjust my head on the pillows and finish off the water in the small styrofoam cup Vincent hands me. When my throat feels like I haven’t munched on sand for the last few years, I say, “It’s not funny that he got shot, Vincent.”

“I never said it was. I’m only smiling because at least he won’t go around punching people in the face anymore.”

“True.” I try to roll my eyes, but my head’s still a bit dizzy. “But this is Harrington we’re talking about. He’ll find his way back to the blood and gore.” I laugh lightly. “But thanks for forever being Mr. Optimist.”

“I try.” He shrugs. He looks me in the face and holds my hands between his. “I’m happy that you found someone that loves you back, Jessy-girl. Of course, I never thought it’d be someone as hot-headed as him. But you’ve always been a good judge of character. So I’m hoping you’re right this time too, even though he doesn’t think before he acts and trouble follows him everywhere.” He waves his hand at me. “You wouldn’t have been mixed up with all this mess if he hadn’t entered into your life. But then again, he did get shot for you, too. I suppose I’ll give him points for that.”

I crinkle my nose. “First of all, let’s stay away from the word “
shot
,” or shoot, bullets, or guns, okay?”

He chuckles. “Okay.”

“And second, what happened to me . . . it wasn’t his fault. If there’s anyone blame, it’s Stamos and his crazy-ass son. And thirdly, Harrington
is
trouble, Vincent. Nothing will stop him from doing what he thinks is best. Nothing will stop him from protecting the people he loves. ”

“I can think of one who could.”

I look at him, confused.

“You, Jess. He would do anything for you. He took a bullet for you.”

“I know.” I rest my head back and smile.

“You know, usually women tend to get all emotional and cry over things like this. I’m surprised you aren’t more worried about him.”

“Harry will fight through anything to keep a promise. He promised me he’d always come back to me, and I believe him.”

He shakes his head. “That confident, huh?”

Heat attacks my face, and I decide to change topics. “Have you seen Fisher or Cat?”

He nods. “Yeah. Cat refused to leave the hospital for the last three days, but Fisher finally convinced her to go home and get some rest, and a shower. He promised her that they’d be back after a few hours. That was sometime yesterday. I bet she’s passed out.” He pushes hair out of my face and smiles. “She cares a lot about you.”

I look at my hands. “I guess I can finally say I have two best friends, one I can talk about anything with, and one I can talk boys with.”

He chuckles. “I’m happy to pass those reins along anytime. Especially if it’s about Harrington.”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to stop from grinning. “So, I take it you never made it back home to meet with that lawyer?”

“No, I didn’t. I got a call from Cat thirty minutes after I left. So I turned around and got back as soon as I could. Thankfully, I wasn’t that far out. But you scared the hell out of me.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you next time I get kidnapped,” I joke.

“You better.” He laughs.

There’s a knock on the door and in walks a doctor and nurse. “How are you doing, Ms. Owens?” the doctor asks, picking up my chart from the end of my bed and flipping through it.

I flinch. “Ms. Owens” leaves a bad taste in my ears. It reminds me too much of Stamos. “Can you just call me Jessica, please?”

“Yes, well. Jessica, I’ll be your doctor for the rest of your stay with us. How are you feeling?”

I robotically answer all his questions to the best of my knowledge. After that, they draw some blood and recheck my vitals. Finally, the doctor tells me that he’s not worried about my recovery, and that my injuries are healing up really well. I should be able to go home in a day or two.

“Hey, Doc,” I call as he turns to leave, rubbing over the puncture site in the valley of my arm. “Um, there’s a patient here, by the name of Harrington Lovelly . . . ?”

His eyes widen in recognition.

I hesitate for a minute. “I, um, well I was wondering if I can see him?”

“Sure. I’ll have the nurse call in a transporter so you can.”

“Just like that?” I ask, surprised. Weren’t there rules or something about not being able to see other patients without permission?

“Just like that,” he agrees. “If you need anything else, please let your nurse know. I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours. Take it easy, Jessica.”

I nod, looking at my hands. From the corner of my eye, I see Vincent studying me, waiting for me to say something. Once the doctor leaves, I turn to him, questioning.

“Apparently Hudson is a very well-known doctor in the Southeast.” He shrugs. “He’s come to check up on you every chance he’s had, and so does his wife. Even Heath and Ace stopped by to see how you’re doing.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He laughs.

A guy dressed in a navy blue polo shirt and khaki pants enters the room with a wheelchair. His nametag reads: Jack Williams, Hospital Transporter.

“Your ride is here,” he says cheerily.

Suddenly, I feel nervous. I don’t know what to expect, or if I’m ready to see him this way. Underneath the facade I’ve been maintaining, my emotions are all out of whack.

“Jess.” Vincent places his hand over my shoulder and gives it a squeeze once I get settled into the wheelchair. “Everything will be fine.
You
’
ll
be fine. You’ll see.”

I nod, lost for words. My stomach is doing cartwheels and my hands shake. I link my fingers together to draw strength.

We take the elevator up to seventh floor and go down the hall until we reach room 710. He’s exactly two floors above the room I’m in.

The transporter knocks on the door and slowly pushes it open. Two sets of eyes land on me as he wheels me into the room.

Blake and Hudson.

Blake is even more beautiful in person than the pictures Harrington showed me. Only now, she looks like she hasn’t slept in days. She gets to her feet to approach me, a tired smile on her face.

“Jessica. You’re here.” Then, to the transporter, she adds, “Thank you.”

“Uh.” Vincent’s hesitation catches my attention.

He points behind him. “I need to grab a coffee, so I’ll be back in a few. Okay?”

I nod, appreciating that he’s giving me time.

“How are you feeling?” Hudson asks as he stands, placing his laptop on the table next to him.

“I’m good, thank you.” Then I quickly add, “And I mean it. Vincent told me that you . . . you took care of me, both of you. I’ve never had—”

“Don’t be silly. You’re
family
now.” Blake cuts me off before I continue on with my awkward appreciation. “You mean the world to Harrington, and that in itself makes you precious to us. And, as I’m sure you know by way, we Lovellys always take care of family.”

I don’t know what to say. I don’t know these people; they’re strangers for all intents and purposes. But here they are, taking care of me like I’m one of their own. Tears well up in my eyes, and for the first time in years, I let them come. They don’t feel like weakness anymore as they trickle down my cheeks, they feel like gratitude. Love.

I push up to stand, and Blake’s instantly there, lending me her strength. Hudson joins the effort a moment later, and together, they help me toward Harrington’s bed.

He looks so peaceful and happy. It’s surreal. Especially when I look at the wires and bandages that are on him, around him. I want to reach forward and touch his hair, his cheek, his chest. Instead, I slip my hand into his.

“Harrington’s never been one to trust, nor has he ever fallen in love with anyone.” She smiles, turning her affection on him, patting his leg with her hand. “I’ve told the boys over and over again, you and Ace coming into their lives is no coincidence.” She looks at me, and there’s so much intensity, so much certainty in her eyes that I’m floored. “He’s going to need you more than any of us for the next few months.” Tears well in her eyes. “I know it’s not fair that I ask this of you, Jessica. But you’re his strength, his weakness, his everything. I knew it the moment he mentioned you. He’s going to push himself to get better too soon, and he might even try to push you away. Don’t let him. Love him, show him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Show him that sometimes strength isn’t found in muscle, or how quickly you can stand up every time you fall. Show him that strength is on the inside, like yours.” She pulls me into a hug. “Show him how to be like you.”

Hudson places a hand over Blake’s shoulder, and she lets go of me, hesitant. “I’m sorry. I just never liked hospitals, and never wanted to experience coming back here for someone I loved. If I stepped out of line—”

“No,” I blurt. “God no.”

She leans back on Hudson, like she needs his strength, and he immediately wraps his arms around her waist, kissing the top of her head.

She wipes her eyes. “Okay. We’ll give you two a moment.” She sniffles.

I look down at Harrington as Hudson and Blake walk past me toward the door. “You’re wrong, Blake,” I say out loud. I turn around to face them. “I’m not strong.”

Her eyebrows winkle.

“I like to be strong. I pretend to be strong. Maybe that’s my way of feeling it. But I see it here, in this very room. Strength doesn’t just come from within you. It comes from the family that surrounds you, the friends. And Harrington, he’s going to feel that love every second of his life. He always has. That’s why he’s strong. That’s why he’s fearless. As much as I want to believe that I’m his strength, it’s everything that’s already there which gets him through. His brothers, you, his family.”

“Oh, dear girl.” Blake tilts her head to the side. “We’ve helped him to grow up. But it was you who taught him to be truly fearless. You showed him to love again. To risk breaking his heart. You are his true strength. His backbone. We were just his foundation. You’re his future.”

With that, Hudson and Blake leave, closing the door behind them.

A slight pressure on my hand brings my attention back to Harrington. Maybe I’m just imagining it, but the corners of his mouth seem to curve upward in agreement.