The dark circles beneath his eyes painted a good picture of what he must’ve gone through in my absence. Even though he looked as though he hadn’t slept for days, my heart fluttered. He was beautiful. I didn’t dare touch him, fearing he might just be a dream from which I could wake up any moment.
To convince myself that it wasn’t just a dream, I looked around the room and realized we were in a hospital. Bright rays of sunlight were spilling through the windows. The door was closed, and apart from Jett’s soft breathing, no other sound disturbed the serenity around us. The pain inside my head made it all feel real, but was it real?
The room was decorated in white and muted yellow. The only splash of color came in the form of a pink calla lily bouquet in a vase on the nightstand. I could smell their faint scent and remembered they were Sylvie’s favorite flowers. And then the memories slowly started to pour in. A heavy weight pinning me to the floor. A shot, followed by Jett’s face and his arms around my body. People speaking animatedly. Oh, God, and the pain. I realized this couldn’t possibly be a dream. I was here—for real—in a hospital bed because Jett had saved me.
Again.
I smiled in spite of the pain shooting through my temples.
Somehow he had found me. We were reunited and the baby—
My heart dropped as more memories began to take shape.
Jett’s father. The arrangement. Liz. The rape. The dark-haired guy punching me repeatedly, my head hitting the floor, and the way the other guy plunged a needle into my arm, injecting some drug that rendered me unable to move and eventually unconscious. I swallowed the lump in my throat. Even if my nightmare was over, it wasn’t quite over. I had no clue if Liz survived the rape. I didn’t know whether my baby survived the beating and whatever happened after that.
Jett had been ready to be a father. Carrying his child inside me and then losing it would feel almost like a betrayal toward him. I had to find out if I was still pregnant, and I had to do it alone, before Jett woke up.
As I moved, I nearly tore out the IV needle stuck in my vein. I winced, and Jett opened his eyes.
“Brooke?” He stood and touched my shoulder gently. “I’m here. Everything’s okay.”
His eyes assessed me as if he wasn’t sure whether I suffered from amnesia and wouldn’t remember him. I smiled in spite of the tears trickling down my cheeks. I was overwhelmed. Just seeing him, feeling him, hearing him—when I thought I never would again—was more amazing than I had ever envisioned. I had forgotten how beautiful his eyes were, and the way he awakened butterflies inside my stomach when he just looked at me.
“Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” I whispered and let him hug me. “I can’t believe you found me.” My throat hurt, but I didn’t care. “Thanks for coming for me.”
“I would never give up on you, you know that.” He sat down on the bed, pulling me with him, and gently kissed my forehead, my temples, the bridge of my nose, the corners of my lips, and finally settled on my lips.
The scent of him, his warm body—everything was overwhelming. It was too good to be true. We rested in each other’s arms for a long time. Jett pulled back first and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear as he looked deep into my eyes. “I could’ve been too late, though, in which case I don’t know what I would’ve done.”
His words touched me to the point tears began to cloud my vision again. I smiled bitterly. “You would have moved on eventually.” I knew my attempt to lighten up the conversation sucked, but I had to give it a shot anyway. “You would have met another girl to replace me.”
He laughed darkly. I looked up, surprised.
“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about. Maybe I don’t want another girl. When I fell in love with you, I knew I’d love you at your worst. Most of all, I knew you had the power to destroy me in your absence.” His dark green eyes probed mine. “You’re not just any girl for me, Brooke. You’re the only one who matters to me.”
“Even if the baby’s lost?” I whispered. Admitting it to him was painful, but it was a possibility.
His eyes reflected his emotions as he cupped my face and drew me to him. “The baby’s okay, Brooke. I talked with the doctor.” His voice trailed off, leaving the magnitude of it hanging between us. I breathed out, relieved, and nodded as Jett continued, “Those men won’t hurt you again. They deserved what they got.” His serious tone sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t need to ask if they were still alive. I’d heard the gunshots, and I knew what they meant. I didn’t even care who shot them. I looked through his eyes into the depths of his soul, and that was enough for me.
“What about Liz?” I asked.
“She’ll make it. The nurses put her in room 122.”
A dark shadow crossed his features. He was withholding something. I watched him rub the nape of his neck, a habit he had acquired following his father’s feigned death, which in turn reminded me Jett still might not know the truth. I almost didn’t want to break our moment, but I had to tell him.
“We have to talk, Jett,” I began, adding softly, “about your father.”
“He’s alive. I know.” He avoided my gaze. “You told me two days ago.”
Two days ago? Had I slept that long?
“My father will pay for what he did to you.” A nerve twitched below his left eye. “I promise you he won’t harm you again.”
“No, Jett.” I shook my head vehemently. Strangely, I felt defensive of his father, despite all he had done. Compared to the men, Robert hadn’t tried to kill me, but then again, maybe our meeting had been nothing but the stunt of a good liar. “We don’t know if it was him. The men who captured me killed his driver before taking me to that building. It wouldn’t make sense. Your father wanted me out of your life but promised to keep me safe. He knew about our baby. I don’t think he’d break his promise.”
Jett nodded, but I could tell by his skeptical expression he wasn’t convinced. I was about to recount the meeting with his father when someone knocked, and a physician walked in holding a chart. Jett stood and they both exchanged glances, before the doctor turned to me.