“Does that hurt?”
Zane rushes over and finally grabs my hand. Tears fill my eyes as I stare up at him. “No, it’s not that, that hurts,” I whisper.
His eyes are wild. Fear, pity, regret, and anger grace his handsome face. It’s too much, so I turn my head toward the nurse as she fixes my gown.
“Everything looks great, Miss Kingsley.”
“Please don’t call me that, it’s Harper,” I say.
She nods and takes off her gloves. “Alright, Harper. I’m going to put in for some pain medicine and get you some water. The doctor will be in to talk to you about everything when he’s out of surgery. If you need anything, just press the call button and we’ll be right in.”
She walks out and I slowly turn my head to Zane. “Please sit this bed up, I’m not comfortable laying down this far.”
He nods his head and grabs the control for the bed, sitting the bed up for me. I tell him to stop when it starts to hurt. We start at each other, unsure what to say next. It’s like we are frozen in the moment and it’s making me wish I was back asleep.
“Say something,” I rush out, my eyes bouncing between his.
A single tear rolls down his cheek and the pain I felt when I first looked in his eyes intensifies tenfold. He’s ruined.
“Fuck, Harper. I’ve been begging you to wake up since it all happened, and now I feel like my goddamn heart stopped beating.” He leans forward and rests his forehead on mine. “I thought I lost you. It's gonna take a minute for the fear, agony, and anger to subside.”
I don’t even realize the tears are rolling down my cheeks, until he brushes them away with his thumb. “I’m scared, Z.”
He puts the side of the bed down and lays half his body next to me. One leg on the bed, the other still on the floor. With the most tenderness I’ve ever seen from him, he wraps an arm around me and gently guides me to his chest. I grab a hold of his shirt and the tears become sobs as I lay in his arms. Everything is overwhelming suddenly. The pain I’m feeling, the fear of being shot, the unknown of what has happened since. I’m feeling everything and I don’t want to.
“I’ve got you, babe. I failed you and that will never happen again,” he whispers, kissing me softly under my ear.
I don’t have it in me to argue with him right now. He didn’t fail me. He actually made shit worse by coming. Things would be completely different right now if he just would’ve let me handle it, instead of rushing in to be the hero. I can’t get into that now though, because right now being in his arms, I know I saved him.
“I have so many questions,” I say, lifting my head slightly to look at his face.
“Like what?” He uses his free hand to wipe my wet cheeks.
I clear my throat and briefly wonder where that nurse is with my water. “How bad am I? Is he dead? What happened after I was shot? How long have I been here? Who knows I’m here?” I rush out. “I don’t know Z, I just feel like I have no idea what is happening right now.”
He takes a deep breath and lightly grabs my chin, keeping his fingers there to have me look at him. His deep blue eyes search mine. “You had damage done to your heart and the bullet was lodged in the muscles in your back. They repaired everything and said you will have a complete recovery. I’ve never been more scared in my life,” he admits. He presses a soft kiss to my lips and once again sighs. “You’ve been here just about twenty-four hours. Everyone knows you’re here. Ivy, my mom, Nora, Gloria, and Kace have been in here. The rest of the club has been in the waiting room hoping for updates.”
“And my father?” I push.
“He’s alive and waiting for us.” I try to pull away from him, but the pain hits me, and I grunt. “Hey, come on, easy. You have a lot of healing to do.”
“How the fuck could he still be alive?” I angrily say.
I notice the look of rage pass over him. It happens so quickly that if I blinked, I would’ve missed it, but I didn’t. I saw.
His lips graze across mine before he pulls back to see me. “At that moment, you were the priority.”
A deep breath leaves me, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, I know. So now what?”
“Now you heal,” he says, kissing the top of my head.
Just as I’m about to push for more, another nurse finally returns with my water. She sets it down on the tray and asks Zane to move off the bed. She takes out the IV and replaces it in my other hand. Once it’s in, she gives me a shot of pain medicine in it and an ice pack for my other hand. She checks my vitals and finally hands me the water before she leaves.
I feel the first sip of cold-water travel throughout my body. It feels so good on my dry throat. After a few more sips, Zane takes it from me.
“How’s the pain?” he asks.
“Nothing I can’t handle.”