Then the explosion of action. “Someone’s here!”
Matias rasped from his bed, “Go get whoever the fuck it is!”
I glared at him with the hate of all the women he’d hurt, glad to see him sick and frail with cancer. If I died that night at least I knew he’d follow soon after.
But that wasn’t enough.
One of those men was his son. I found that out when I was being gagged. He was due to inherit the business and perpetuate what they’d done. And then another man would take over. And another. And it would never end.
They had to die, but I didn’t know how. I had machine guns pointed at my head and no way to break free of the bindings, to grab them.
And then Jett appeared, with his Tasmanian Devil friend. He didn’t want me to do it. But then he found out the truth.
I pulled the trigger over and over. Turned and looked into his eyes and saw understanding and respect.
And it was done.
But where am I now? I don’t understand. Staring at him asleep on my legs, I try to speak but my mouth is dry. My jaw feels stiff.
Barely able to move my fingers, I squeeze his hand. Like a gun went off in the room, Jett sits upright and looks around. Then at me. His beautiful eyes go wide, staring at me with shock.
He jerks forward in his chair, clasping my hand to his hard chest as he reaches to touch my face. “Sunshine?”
I nod my head just a little; it’s all I can do.
A grin grows on his face and he shouts, “NURSE! NURSE!!!” His eyes go dark and he asks me, “Do you know who I am?”
Parting my lips, I painfully rasp, “Jett.”
He whoops and rises up, fist-pumping the air like an idiot.
“Water,” I whisper.
While still gripping my hand to his body, he cranes back to grab one from a rickety tray-table, and brings it to my lips. Lifting my other hand takes effort, but I do succeed in taking the small glass and nodding to him that I’ve got it.
“Holy shit, look at you!” he whispers like I just performed a miracle just by holding this cup.
“NURSE!!! SHE’S AWAKE!” he shouts at the door.
Swallowing is painful. I’ve never felt this way before. “Where are we?” I croak. “What happened?”
Those grey eyes of his cloud over as the smile disappears.
“Oh, Sunshine baby, you’ve been in a coma. You’ve been out for a long time.”
Fear pulls at me and all I can do is raise my eyebrows with the question I’m too frightened to ask.
Low and cautious, he tells me, “It’s been three months. Seven days.”
The door explodes with three nurses, and they all tell Jett to stand back. He doesn’t fight them, which surprises me. He and I are staring at each other as the nurses pull at cords attached to my body, fiddle with what I now realize is oxygen tubes in my nose. Doctors come in next. There is a lot of action. I’m questioned about whether or not I know who I am. I nod.
Then they ask me my name.
It’s Jett’s face I’m looking at when I answer, “Luna.”
His eyes fill with a man’s kind of emotion, the kinds that’s distant and full and confusing to him.
“What’s your last name?” the doctor asks.
Still on Jett, I whisper, “I don’t have one.” His lips tighten as he pushes off the wall.
“Alright, let her rest.”
The doctors don’t listen to him. He stands by as they inform him there are many things they need to check due to the severity of my head trauma. I have to wiggle toes and fingers for them. I have to recite dates. And finally when they’re satisfied, they tell us both I’ll have to stay to be supervised until they know it’s safe. As they file out, one of the nurse’s looks over her shoulder at Jett with a small smile. He doesn’t notice.
He pulls the chair back to my bed from where they moved it, and sits down, grabbing my hand immediately. “How you doin’?”
“Not used to the attention,” I whisper. He hands me more water and I drink it on my own. He takes it and sets it down and I notice his hand is shaking.
“Luna,” he murmurs to himself before he meets my eyes. “That’s the moon in Spanish?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s the opposite of Sunshine,” he says with an attempt at a smile. Despite the effort, I can tell he’s shaken.
I get it. I don’t know what to do with him either.
“You called me that as a joke,” I whisper. It’s all I can do. My voice hasn’t been used in months and my throat feels terrible.
“At first.” He pauses. “Must be weird losin’ all that time.” I nod. “You want to know what happened?”
“Yes.”
The story unravels as he explains what he knows, from beginning to now. He’s a man, so the details are blunt and brief. When he tells me the women were pregnant, I gasp. His handsome face registers surprise. “You didn’t know that?”