Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)(59)

“Because I don’t want to frighten you.”
I set down my plate. “You don’t frighten me.”
“After what you’ve been through, you just might be a little scared of a man sitting next to you.”
“You’re no man, you’re Sexton Cole.” I cracked a pained smile.
One appeared on his face as well. He leaned forward and stood up, cautiously walking toward the bed. When he reached the edge, he leaned against it a little but kept his distance.
“You saved my brother,” he said.
Then I remembered a little of what Hawk had said. “Was he the one who was shot?”
“We showed up at Hawk’s house looking for you.”
“How did you know where he lived?”
Jericho shrugged. “Stole your file at the bar. We rushed him in the hall and he shot Wheeler, then he shot me in the knee.”
I gasped, and Jericho set the plate on the table and sat down.
“I was hurt bad so I shifted. Before I could shift back, he put me in a crate. Wheeler was left to die.”
My hands were shaking and I wrung them together. “What makes you think I saved him? How did he survive?”
“You called Denver. You called my brothers and gave them the address. Because of your actions, they were able to get there in time, and Wheeler didn’t die. Good thing he’s a stubborn sonofabitch.”
“Why didn’t he shift?”
Jericho sighed. “He was shot in the head. It wasn’t a fatal wound, but he might have eventually bled out since the bullet went clean through. I got him to shift once before he fell unconscious, so that helped him hold out a little longer. Austin hauled ass and got there in time to make him shift as many times as he could. Alpha wolves have the power to do that, and thank the fuck it worked.”
“Is he okay? Any permanent damage?”
Jericho smiled. “Only to his ego. It’s too early to know if he’ll have any memory loss, but I think getting him to shift right after it happened healed up the tissue. He seems okay.”
“I’m sorry I dragged your family into this. I had no idea what Hawk was doing—you have to believe me. Some guy started chasing me, and that’s when I found out that Hawk was dealing drugs. I left him because of that, but you can bet I had no idea about all the other stuff he was doing. I feel sick to my stomach just thinking about it.”
A strand of hair fell in front of my face. Jericho leaned forward and carefully tucked it behind my ear. “You don’t have to explain.”
“But I do. I gave him a second chance because that’s what I believe we all deserve. I didn’t love him, but I still gave him a shot to prove himself to me. I asked the wrong person.”
“What do you mean?”
I took Jericho’s hand and thought I saw a blush rise in his cheeks.
“All this time I thought a second chance was something I’d have to give you, Jericho. But I was wrong. I’m asking you to give me one. I’m sorry for running out on you all those years ago.”
“I don’t blame you; I was messed up back then. What’s done is done. But I do have one question. What did you do with my guitar?”
Still holding his hand, I tilted my head to the side. “Huh?”
“That powder-blue guitar you gave me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes, you know. You stole it.”
I pulled back my hands. “What? I didn’t steal your guitar.”
“It’s okay, Isabelle. I’m over it. We were different people back then. I’m just curious.”
I shook my head and gripped the covers. “I know we were different people, but I’m not a thief. I never stole your guitar.”
Jericho angrily got off the bed. “Denver said the maid saw you swipe my guitar and empty my wallet. I would have wanted you to have the money because you went out on your own, but my guitar—”
I gasped and ripped the covers back, standing despite my weak legs. “I don’t know what Denver was smoking with the maid, but I never stole anything from you, Jericho. I came back the next night to apologize and walked in on you and that redhead having sex. She was wearing my Pink Floyd shirt.”
“Redhead?” Jericho turned around and locked his fingers behind his neck, something he did when he was thinking. “Redhead,” he repeated twice more, searching his memories.
Then he collapsed on the beanbag, covering his face. “Oh shit. Oh shit.”
“What?”
“I’m remembering. I thought she was you.”#p#分页标题#e#
I clutched my chest.
Jericho lifted his stricken eyes to mine. “I hope you didn’t pick up my bad habit of not locking doors, but you remember how I was. Some woman had followed the band back to the hotel and must have found out which room I was staying in. I don’t know,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he remembered. “I just woke up in the dim room with someone kissing my chest… and all this red hair. I thought it was you. I called your name, but you never looked up. So we uh… well, we had sex. But then I wanted to see your face. All I could see was all that red hair and your favorite shirt. Then I lifted your chin, but it wasn’t you. Fuck.” He threw back his head and covered his face with one hand. “It wasn’t you. I threw her off and went to ask my mates if they’d seen you. Jimmy said you took off.”