I stroked her hair in an attempt to soothe her, whispering into her ear, “I love you, Jada.” She closed her eyes. “No! No! No! baby wake up! Please don’t leave me, Princess.”
Please, God, don’t take her from me.
***
It was still sunlight outside. I paced the hall of the hospital. My clothing was in total disarray. Buttons of my blood-splattered shirt were undone; my sleeves were rolled up to my elbows.
I was a fucking wreck.
I am an impatient man and I fucking hated waiting.
Waiting to see if my fiancée and best friend were going to be okay, I was so stressed over the fact that it should have been me and not Zane with a bullet through his body. I can’t believe he did that for me. I stared out the window in front of me. I noticed the reflections of my brother and father as they approached, but I didn’t turn away from the window until Marco spoke and called my name.
“Max, we just got back from the police station,” Marco said. “They want to speak to you again, if you can go through your statement one more time. When you’re ready, that is.”
I nodded.
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say. There were no words inside me; I felt hollow.
Marco broke the silence. “The nurse at the desk wouldn’t tell me any information about Jada, but she did say Zane is doing well. It sure as hell wasn’t a graze, though…” My father nudged Marco, but that didn’t stop him. “Here comes the doc now.”
I stood up straighter as the doctor came to stand in front of us all, clutching his folder.
“Mr. Brunetti, I’ve got some good news. Both Jada and Zane will make a full recovery. Zane’s injuries could have been a lot worse. If the bullet hit him another centimetre to the right, it would have hit his subclavian artery, which could have been fatal. Now, I’m not saying he will be up and dancing tomorrow. He won’t. Zane was lucky the bullet was lodged only a few centimetres into his shoulder. He will have limited movement in his shoulder. Because we were able to remove the bullet quickly, his recovery time will be nine to ten months, but with intense physical therapy on his shoulder, it could possibly be much shorter.”
Zane was a cop. There was no way he could do his job with a damaged shoulder. He risked his life for me, and now he’s got to give up a job he loves. I dragged my hand down my face stretching my tired features. “Shit.”
“Mr. Brunetti,” the doctor interrupted my thoughts. “As I said before, Jada is going to be fine.”
I stared at him, unwilling to believe it. I was expecting the worst news. This fortunate twist of fate took me totally by surprise. “She is?” I asked him.
“Yes, however her injuries consist of a lot of bruising, and she will have very sore ribs for a while, but they weren’t broken. The blood was largely from a vaginal blood vessel that burst. It was weakened from her fall and from when she was thrown against the counter top, causing undue pressure. There wasn’t much bleeding, but enough to alarm Ms. Sinclair and rightfully so. I’ve cauterised it to make certain everything is okay, and it is. She insisted on taking a shower; a nurse is helping her with that now. When she’s done, you can go in and see her,” he explained, nodding toward her room. “I recommend a few days of bed rest. After that, she should make a full recovery.”
I mumbled a solemn thank you for the information.
The doctor moved to the nurses’ station and left instructions, then departed. My family and Jada’s surrounded him. Janet was sobbing copiously against Michael’s shoulder. Milan and Mia were doing their share of snivelling. My father, sitting with my mother, was wiping nervous perspiration off his forehead.
Marco slapped me soundly on the back. “Good news, hey, bro?”
“Yeah, Marco, it is,” I said, finally finding my voice. My eyes were trained on the hospital room door. As soon as the nurse came out, I excused myself and rushed inside.
I stood beside her bed and softly called out her name, “Jada.”
She averted her eyes toward me and blinked several times, but it did no good. I saw her tears fall, slipping over her lower lids and rolling down her cheeks.
“Are you in pain, Princess?” I asked, bending closer. “Did that prick hurt you?”
“No,” she gulped. “You got there just in time.”
“Don’t waste your tears on him.”
“That’s not why I’m crying.” Her lower lip began to tremble; she clamped her teeth over it in an attempt to prevent it.
“What is it then, babe?” I lifted her face up by her chin and forced her to meet my gaze. “I want a…”