He added something to the IV and seconds later the pain faded to nothing and she sighed. "Thank you."
She closed her eyes as the nurse moved around, peering at the bandages, taking her blood pressure.
"How bad is it?" she asked the doctor.
"Not so bad. Both wounds are clean and we stitched them up. The arm one was simple; the one in your side a little more problematic. You'll have an impressive scar, but the bullet missed any organs and went right through."
"So can I go home?" Her voice sounded pathetically hopeful, but she really hated hospitals. Both her previous stays had ended up with just about the worst periods of her life.
"No." The doctor and Declan spoke in unison.
"You lost a lot of blood," the doctor continued. "We need to replace that and make sure you're stable."
She pursed her lips, but decided to wait until she felt a bit stronger before she started arguing her case. The truth was, she did feel a little light-headed. She hadn't noticed while she was horizontal, but now she was sitting up her head was swimming. She gritted her teeth.
"Stop fighting it and relax," Declan said. "You're not going anywhere."
"Who's going to stop me?" But she said it just for effect and snuggled back into the pillows. The pain was gone. She wasn't dead. Declan loved her. Time to fight for her rights later. Now she just didn't feel up to it.
As the doctor straightened from his examination, a tap sounded on the door. More visitors.
"Okay. You're good for now," the doctor said. "Ring if you experience any change."
"Thank you."
As he opened the door she caught sight of her next visitor. She really wasn't up to this.
Rory McCabe strolled into the room, a huge bouquet of bloodred roses in one arm, a garment bag in the other. He placed the flowers on the table by her bed and stared down at her for a moment. Then lowered his head and kissed her on the cheek.
She resisted the urge to wipe her face; it was really too much effort.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked.
"I just came to thank you for saving my son's life."
"All part of the service." She peered at him a little closer. His nose appeared swollen. "Have you been in an accident yourself?"
He smirked. "I came into sudden contact with Declan's fist, last night."
Shock widened her eyes. She turned to Declan. "You hit him? Why?"
"Why the hell do you think? Because he's a bastard. And it's been a long time due."
"Thanks," Rory muttered. He took a deep breath. "Jessica, I owe you an apology."
"Yes." She waited and he frowned.
"Yes, well, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me to offer you money to leave my son alone. But I love my son and I believed you were wrong for him. I still believe if the two of you had stayed together back then that it would have been a disaster."
"Has anyone mentioned that you suck at apologizing," Declan murmured.
Rory cast him a black look. "It's a first, and I don't expect to repeat the experience anytime soon."
But she knew he was right; back then she'd been a mess. She wouldn't have been able to cope with the pressures of the relationship. Because she had no doubt there would have been immense pressure. A seventeen-year-old girl with a low boredom threshold and a penchant for trouble, and Declan busy at college. She would have been in a strange country, without any family for support. Her sister wasn't all that supportive when she was in the same country. On a different continent, Jess reckoned she would have just written her off.
Maybe they would have survived. Maybe not.
"Okay," she said.
"Okay what?" Rory looked wary.
"Okay, apology accepted."
"So you forgive me."
"No. Don't push your luck."
He laughed. "I like you, Jessica. You've grown up into an impressive woman."
"Thanks," she said drily. "Praise from Rory McCabe. My life is now complete."
He laughed again, then tossed the garment bag to Declan, who was still leaning against the wall.
"What's this?" he asked, catching it.
"A change of clothes." He sank into the seat Declan had been sleeping in earlier. "In case you don't get home before you're due in court."
Of course, she'd almost forgotten about the court case, and Declan could hardly turn up in leather pants and a bloodstained T-shirt. "So tell me about Paul? Why did he want Declan dead?"
Rory shrugged. "He didn't. Not really-it was just a means of getting at me."
"And why did he want to do that?" It was Declan who asked the question. "I thought he owed you big-time. You paid for him through college, looked after his mother."