“How long have I been in the hospital?”
“Well, you were found about twelve hours ago by one of your deputies who noticed your vehicle off in a ditch during one of their patrols. They didn’t find you in it and after the entire team went on a search, your nearest neighbor went to your home and called an ambulance, seeing you through your front window. You’ve been out of surgery for three hours.”
“Damn. What time is it?” I ask.
“It’s almost five in the morning.”
“Shit.”
“What is it?”
“I was laying there dying for nearly twelve hours.” Lydia’s got to be wondering why I never called her. She knew I would have called her by now, which means she’s worried that something’s wrong or that maybe I’ve changed my mind about us unless someone has told her. Maybe Bennett or Darcy have found out and called her.
“Yeah, you’re one damn tough son of a bitch, Marlowe.”
All I want is Lydia by my side, but the risk is too damn high until Rita Marlowe is apprehended. How the fuck is she out of prison?
“No. The police don’t have a lead on who shot you. They were actually trying to speak to you about the incident, but we told them you weren’t awake yet.” His phone goes off, and he checks it. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to take this. Do you have anyone to call before I notify the officers outside waiting to see you?”
“My girlfriend’s in Chicago, but I don’t want her to be notified until I know it’s safe. I’d rather be dead than let my mother hurt Lydia,” I let him know.
“Don’t say that, Marlowe,” Bennett says, coming in with Darcy by his side.
“Did you tell Lydia?” I ask, needing to know if she’s okay.
“We did. We’re actually on our way to pick her and Georgie up from the airport,” Darcy says, coming over to my side and brushing her hand through my hair, fixing it, which I’m sure is a complete mess. Not that it matters, but I’m sure she’s just trying to keep busy.
“That bitch can’t get near Lydia. She’s been stalking me, so she must know of her.”
“Are you serious?” Bennett asks.
I nod. “Deadly. Shoot that bitch if she goes near my love.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to keep her safe.” I know he will not just for me, but for Darcy who looks extremely nervous.
“We’re so happy you’re gonna pull through. Lydia’s so anxious to see you.” Darcy’s tears are for both me and her sister, and Bennett pulls her into his arms as she cries softly.
“My poor girl. Nothing can happen to her. You better head out before she lands. I’d hate for that bitch to find her first.”
“I’ll rip her hair out myself,” Darcy adds, but a sudden wave of fatigue hits me as I smile. “We’ll get the doc and nurses in here.” She pats my hand, and then they walk out while I rest as best as I can. As the eldest sister, she’s always been her sisters’ protector, so I know she’ll do whatever she has to when it comes to Lydia, making it easy for sleep to come.
Chapter Eight
Lydia
It’s been a whole day and I haven’t heard from Whitaker. A whole day, and he hasn’t called or texted me. Nothing. I’m upset because I can’t sleep, knowing he’s ghosting me. He should have been off today, which means he’s had plenty of time to call me.
It’s late when I finally let my emotions weigh me down and I pass out. Dreams of Whit leaving me for another woman fill my brain, waking me up in tears. This is what love is, and I hate it.
My phone goes off at an ungodly hour. It’s my sister Darcy. I answer the phone, knowing whatever she has to say is bad. Did Bennett and she have a fight? Nah, she wouldn’t call me for that.
“What’s going on, Darce?”
She pauses, which unsettles me. “Sweetie, Whitaker’s in the hospital.”
“What? What happened? I’m on my way.” I’m throwing off the covers, crying before I can even process what she’s saying.
“Did you hear me?”
I didn’t. “What?” I scream.
“He was shot.” I feel the blood drain from my body, legs tingling as I try to stand.
“How? Lakeland’s safe,” I say through my tears, choking on every single syllable.
Georgie comes into the room, rubbing her eyes.
“I don’t know. They came to tell us. Bennett’s booked you a flight—it leaves in three hours.”
“Okay. I need to get out of here.”
“What’s going on, Lydia?” Georgie asks. I hand her the phone because I can’t use my words at the moment.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll go with. Yes. Good.” She ends the call and looks at me, opening her arms. I fall into them and cry hard until I can’t breathe. Georgie sits me on the bed and grabs my shoulders. “He’s going to be okay, Lyds. He’s going to make it. He’s a big, strong, burly cop.”