“What time is it?”

“Just past noon. I went home and brought you some things so that you can change out of those bloody clothes.”

I looked down at my wardrobe and realized that I was still wearing the same clothing. I hadn’t noticed anything that had gone on for the past twenty-four hours. I had been focusing entirely on making sure that Mia was alright before stopping to worry about myself.

“I need coffee.” I mumbled.

“I have that too.” She lifted her right hand, which held a cup. “Won’t you go into the bathroom, freshen up, and come back out and have a good old strong cup?” She nodded. “I even brought you a toothbrush and toothpaste.” Hesitant to leave Mia’s side, I glanced over at her. “Marcus, she’ll be fine. I’ll watch her. You’ll only be a few feet away.”

Taking her advice, I stood from the chair that I had spent the entire night in, lifted Mia’s hand that I hadn’t let go of yet, and brushed my lips along her knuckles. Then I gently placed her arm back down on the bed. I grabbed the bag my mother had brought for me and entered the bathroom.

I switched the light on and dumped the bag on top of a small table by the sink. Glancing into the mirror, I looked at the man staring back at me. Fuck. He looked like he had been run over by a train and then smashed into a concrete wall.

He looked like shit.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

MIA

As I breathed in through my lungs, the air burned against the sensitive muscle. The pain was excruciating, which caused my eyes to flash open and me to wince. Through blurry vision, I glanced around my surroundings. I was in a hospital room. My throat was completely dry. I tried to swallow, but it was a scorching discomfort. The beeping from the machines became clearer as my mind struggled to register it all. After a few seconds, I remembered the reason why I was there and who I was looking for at the time it had all occurred.

Marcus.

Gasping, I forced my body to sit up, but every muscle ached, and my own body fought against every urge to do so. Hell, it hurt to move an inch. Maybe I should start off slowly. I carefully lifted my left hand and saw an IV pricked through a vein. Weakly, my hand dropped back down on the bed; it was difficult to do anything. But I needed to know where Marcus was. I needed to get to him. If anything had happened to him, I’d be lost.

A familiar soft face hovered over me as she gasped, “Oh my, Mia, you’re awake. How are you feeling, honey?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing would come out. A slight squeak was all that came out as my voice cracked. Frustrated, I slammed my head back against the pillow. Theresa continued to stare at me with concern filling her eyes. I wanted to ask about Marcus. I wanted to know if he was alright or if he was hurt too. When I tried to ask again, the sound of a door creaking open forced me to tilt my head.

There he was, safe and sound. Our eyes locked, and every emotion prickled through me as my heart swelled with relief that he was still here, still with me. His eyes clouded over as he slowly stepped closer toward me. Theresa was in the background mumbling something about going to tell a nurse that I was awake. I may have nodded. I wasn’t sure. My focus was solely on Marcus.

The last time I saw him was the night at Club21 when we left on unsettled terms. I remembered going home that night and regretted not pulling him in and holding him tight. I regretted not kissing him or telling him that I loved him before we went our separate ways. I never imagined that the next day could have been my last and I would’ve never had the chance to hold or kiss him one last time. An overwhelming ache coursed through me. Breaking down, I burst into sobs. He was by my side instantly. Pressing his hand along my cheek, he hushed me. “Don’t cry, baby. I’m here.” I closed my eyes and leaned my face into his hand. The feeling of his warm touch felt like home as he wiped away my hot tears.

Even though he tried to soothe the pain away, the comfort of having him so close and the thought of ever losing him forced me into a trembling teary frenzy. My body shook uncontrollably. Marcus leaned down and wrapped his arms around me. He was careful not to pull me in too tightly, but the embrace allowed me to go weak in his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I will never be able to take away the pain of what you went through, but if you let me, I will try every single day.” He whispered into my hair.

Still unable to speak, I nodded into the crook of his neck and continued to allow hot tears to stream down my face.

He held me close until the nurse appeared, and even then, I didn’t want to pull away from him. She waited patiently until we were done. Marcus held my hand the entire time as she asked me a few questions and checked my vitals. After she scribbled a few things down, she smiled and informed me that the doctor would be in shortly.

After the nurse had left me alone with Marcus, he pulled a chair up beside me and framed my face. “Do you need me to get you anything? I can stop by your apartment. I can grab you food or water or anything you like.” There was nothing I needed but him at that moment. Gently tightening my grip on his hand, I shook my head. “Your throat is sore, huh?” I nodded in response. “Want some ice? Maybe it’ll soothe your throat?” I thought it might be a good idea, so I nodded, and he was out the door and back instantly with a cup of ice.

It felt like when I had a terrible sore throat and I tried cough medicine, hot tea, or water to soothe the itching, burning, and rawness. But this was ten times worse. The ice chip helped soothe the pain for about a second until it came back. After a few minutes, I was able to clear my throat and actually speak.

“Better?”

“A little.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “It hurts when I breathe.”

“Oh, baby, it’s going hurt for a while. The bullet grazed your lung.”

Wincing at the memory, I leaned back into the pillow. “What happened afterwards?”

“Some people died; some were arrested.”

“Lou?”

“He’ll never be a bother to you ever again.”

“Was he arrested?”

He shook his head, and I knew right then and there that Lou Sorrento was dead.

“Good.”

Marcus took the cup of ice I handed to him and placed it on the table beside us. “I’m tired.”

Standing, he leaned in and pressed his lips against my forehead. “Get some rest, baby. Your mom, Megan, Jeremy, and your grandparents will be by later on this evening. Do you mind if I stay here?” He pointed to his chair.

I shook my head. “Can you lie with me?”




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