Текст книги "Hot Ticket"

Автор книги: Olivia Cunning

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

Chapter 19

Aggie turned at the sound of gunshots. Saw the blood splatter out of Jace’s arm. Watched him fall. Felt her world crumble. “Jace!”

Someone grabbed her arm and shoved a gun under her chin. “I said, give me your fucking purse. Don’t make me kill you too, you stupid bitch.”

She couldn’t comprehend the danger she was in, could only watch the blood spread in a widening puddle from beneath the only man she’d ever loved. “Jace…”

Gritting her teeth, she dropped her purse on the cement and grabbed her left fist in her right hand. With a scream of rage, she delivered a vicious elbow to her captor’s stomach.

He grunted in pain. She stomped the instep of his foot.

“Ow, bitch. What do you think—”

She punched him in the balls, taking him down to his knees. His grip on his gun slackened. She grabbed the back of his head and drove the bridge of his nose into her knee. He fell unconscious on the sidewalk, the gun tumbling from his grasp.

Aggie flew to Jace’s side. “Oh my God,” she gasped, too upset to do anything but hover over him. He was bleeding so much. Surely, he was dead.

She dialed 911. Before the dispatcher even answered, the sound of sirens coming from the distance sounded like a chorus of angel harps.

“What is your emergency?”

“M-my boyfriend’s been shot.”

“Your location?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.

“I’m outside. On the sidewalk.”

“Can you see a street sign?”

Aggie looked up and read the names of the streets from the signs on the corner of the nearest intersection.

The dispatcher said, “Take a deep breath, honey. Someone called about a mugging in progress a few minutes ago. Police and paramedics are already on their way.”

Aggie could hear the sirens growing louder by the second.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

She covered her lips with a trembling hand and looked down at him. The puddle of blood beneath him was spreading. “J-Jace.”

“Is he still breathing?” the dispatcher asked.

She stared at Jace, but her blurry eyes refused to take in anything but the blood pooling around his right arm. “I– I don’t know.” She glanced around, hoping someone with a lick of sense was nearby to tell her if Jace was still breathing. The streets were eerily empty. It was as if the world had deserted her. Deserted Jace. Her only lifeline was the calm woman on the other end of the line.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” the woman asked.

“Aggie,” she squeaked.

“Aggie, listen to his chest. See if his heart is beating. If it isn’t, I’ll help you start CPR.”

Aggie leaned over Jace and pressed her ear to his back, listening for the sound of his heart. It still beat, sluggishly at best.

“It’s still beating,” she said to the dispatcher.

“Is he breathing? Feel for air coming from his nose and mouth.”

She moved her hand in front of his face and felt his warm breath against her fingertips. “Yes. He’s breathing.”

“Then just sit tight until help arrives.”

Sit tight? That was the woman’s advice? Aggie dropped her cell phone on the ground. She had to do something for him, but didn’t know what. Should she try to stop the bleeding? Turn him onto his back? She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered brokenly. She smoothed his leather jacket over his back, not knowing how that was supposed to help. She brushed Jace’s hair from his forehead, leaving several streaks of his blood on his skin. “I don’t know what to do. Jace? Jace, tell me what to do!”

The sirens continued past the corner and toward the end of the next block. Maybe they had the wrong address. She had to flag them down. For Jace’s sake. As useless as she currently was, they would know how to help him.

“I’ll be back,” she promised Jace, scared to leave him, but more scared not to leave him.

She raced to the curb and waved her arms wildly at a passing cop car. Tires squealed as the officer stomped on his brakes. An ambulance did a U-turn at the end of the block and pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the street.

An officer climbed from his cruiser, eyeing the blood on Aggie’s face and hands with concern. “Ma’am. Ma’am, are you hurt? Someone called in shots fired.”

“No, I’m fine. Please. You have to help Jace. He’s been shot. Hurry.”

She ran back to where she’d left Jace and found the mugger with the gun groaning as he struggled to regain consciousness. He took a deep, startled breath and reached for his gun. The cop beside Aggie drew his weapon and went down on one knee.

“Drop your weapon,” the officer yelled.

Aggie didn’t hesitate. She rushed toward the thug and kicked him in the side of the head. The gun went off, bullet flying wildly without aim.

“You son of a bitch,” she growled. She kicked him in the crotch. Once. Twice. Feeling his nuts crunch against bone beneath her foot. He cried out, clutching his balls in agony, the gun forgotten beside him. She didn’t know how to help Jace, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there while the dick who’d shot him hurt someone else.

“Are you crazy?” the cop said, toeing the gun out of the man’s reach. “He had a gun, and you jump him? You’re lucky you didn’t get shot.”

“What are you doing?” she yelled at the cop. “Help Jace. I don’t know what to do for him. Help him!”

Two paramedics jogged across the street toward them, wheeling a gurney that carried a large first-aid kit. While the police officer wrestled the injured mugger into a pair of handcuffs, the medics worked with Jace, trying to stem the flow of blood. They removed his jacket and tossed it aside. The entire right side of his white T-shirt was saturated with blood.

Aggie scooped up his coat and cradled it against her chest, watching the EMTs do their thing.

“There’s an exit wound for this one, but the second bullet is still lodged inside his shoulder.”

“Keep pressure on it. We’ve got to get him to the hospital. He’s losing a lot of blood.”

Two officers escorted the gunless thug toward a cruiser. “You’re dead, you fucking bitch. As soon as I make bail, you’re dead!” he shouted at Aggie.

Aggie heard him, but was too worried about Jace to feel any concern for herself. The cops heard him though. “I’ll be sure to file that threat in my report,” one officer said as he shoved the guy into the back of the cruiser. “Bail is not an option. Where’s your accomplice?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the mugger claimed.

His accomplice had Aggie’s suitcase and had sped off as soon as his buddy had shot Jace. Not that it mattered—nothing mattered but seeing Jace smile again.

“Ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions.”

Aggie didn’t look at the speaker. She couldn’t take her eyes off Jace.

When the police officer grabbed her arm, she twisted away. “No. Get your hands off me.”

The paramedics lifted Jace onto a gurney, pushing hard on the wound in his shoulder. His hand was ghostly white as the tourniquet around his upper arm stemmed the blood flow to the gunshot wound in his biceps.

“He needs oxygen.”

“He needs blood is what he needs. Jesus.”

“Get him in the ambulance.”

In a strange state of detachment, Aggie followed the stretcher as they wheeled it toward the waiting ambulance. She stepped off the curb, oblivious to the traffic that an officer was directing around the police cruisers. Someone grabbed her arm again. This time he did not let go when she tried to twist away.

“Ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions.”

She shook her head vigorously, tears blinding her.

The officer tugged her arm, trying to get her to follow him toward the police car. “What happened? Ma’am, tell me what happened.”

“They took my suitcase. Wanted my purse too. I should have just given it to them. Jace!” she yelled. “Jace!”

“We’re taking him to County,” a paramedic said. Aggie didn’t understand what they meant. County? What county? Jace’s gurney was lifted into the back of the ambulance, and the paramedics climbed inside. Someone closed the door and slapped the back of the vehicle. It took off down the street, lights flashing, sirens blaring.

“Was there more than one?” the officer asked.

Aggie nodded and burst into quaking sobs, her face buried in Jace’s ruined leather jacket.

Chapter 20

Jace groaned, trying to force his eyes open. He felt like an elephant was standing on his right shoulder. Someone touched his cheek gently.

“Hey there, open your eyes, cutie,” a soft voice said.

“Aggie?” he whispered.

“My name is Karen. I’m your nurse.”

Nurse? What? Memories flooded his mind, one on top of the other, converging into an indecipherable mess. He could only make sense of two things. He’d been shot, and the guy with the gun had Aggie.

“Aggie!”

He sat bolt upright in the hospital bed. The nurse tried to coax him back down. “We couldn’t find identification on you. Do you know your name?”

“Where’s Aggie? We have to send someone to help her. We have to…”

“I don’t know who Aggie is. She’s not here. You came in by yourself. Does she know where you are? We could call her.”

He pushed the nurse aside and tried to climb from the bed. Pain stabbed through his shoulder and his arm, but he could tolerate that pain. Not knowing where Aggie was, knowing he’d failed to keep her safe—that he could not tolerate.

“You have to stay in bed. You just got out of surgery and are in no condition to go anywhere.” The nurse pushed the call button for help. “I’ll give you another sedative and something for the pain.”

Jace shook his head vigorously. “That guy is going to kill her,” he said, slumping sideways in the bed as a wave of dizziness took him.

He tried to get up again, but his body refused to cooperate. Get up, Jace. You have to get up. The nurse tucked him back in bed. “No. I can’t stay here,” he murmured.

His right arm felt funny and not because he’d been shot in it. The thick leather cuff he usually wore on his wrist was missing. He covered the scars there with his left hand. “Where’s my bracelet?”

Karen opened a drawer and handed it to him. He hurriedly secured it around his wrist, not releasing his breath until his shame was covered again.

The nurse watched him with compassion. “We didn’t know who to notify of your condition. Do you have any family?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t catch his breath. Who cared if he didn’t have any family? Aggie might still be in danger. He’d taken a bullet for her—two—but still had no idea if she was safe, injured, or dead. “No, no family. Please,” he said. “You don’t understand. Send someone to help Aggie. Send. Please. Someone.”

“Jace?” Aggie’s sweet voice came from across the room. He had to be hearing things. Delusional from his meds.

And then she was beside him. He didn’t know by what miracle she was there. Not dead. Apparently unharmed. She fell against him, sobbing against his neck, clinging to him. The pain she caused reminded him he was alive. And more important, that she was alive.

Ah God, hurt me, Aggie.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. Those stupid cops wouldn’t let me leave. Those two guys that mugged me have been in a rash of burglaries, and I’m the only one who’s seen the other guy’s face. They made me go look through mug shots and file a report. I just wanted to be with you.” She looked up at the nurse. “Is he going to be okay?”

“Not if you keep squeezing him like that,” the nurse said disapprovingly.

Jace chuckled. “Squeeze me as hard as you like. How did you get away from that guy? Did the cops rescue you?”

She winced. “Not exactly. After he shot you, I went crazy and kicked his ass.” She flushed. “Mostly his nuts actually.”

Jace chuckled. “He had it coming. Wish I’d have thought of that.”

“He shot you in the back, the coward. I wasn’t going to let him get away with that.” She kissed his lips gently, her eyes watery with tears. “I should have just given him my purse. Then you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

Jace concentrated on lifting his uninjured arm and stroked her hair from her face tenderly. “All I care about is that you’re safe.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay. So glad.” She kissed him again. “I love you so much. If anything happened to you, I wouldn’t want to go on living.”

He touched her cheek. “Don’t say things like that,” he murmured. He kissed her gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She sniffed and stared down into his eyes. He’d never seen an ounce of weakness in this woman, and her tears tore at his heart. “Promise?” she whispered. When he didn’t answer her immediately, she grabbed two handfuls of hair and gave him a hard shake. “Promise me, Jace.”

“I promise.” As weak as he felt at the moment, he feared it was a promise he might have to break.

Chapter 21

Aggie watched Jace sleep for over an hour before she thought about informing anyone else about his injury. He never talked about his family, so she didn’t know how to contact them, but she did have Jessica’s number. As Sed’s fiancée, Jessica had to know how to get in touch with the guys in Jace’s band. They needed to know what was going on. She was sure they would want to know, and they would know who else to inform. Aggie stepped into the hall so she didn’t disturb Jace’s sleep. He tried to pretend he wasn’t hurt too bad, but Aggie saw through the tough guy act. He needed his rest, and she was going to make sure he got it.

“Aggie!” Jessica answered the phone. “How are you? Sorry I bailed on you after the show in San Francisco. Sed thought we needed to do more celebrating.”

“Don’t worry about it. Speaking of Sed, is he around?”

“Why?”

Aggie almost laughed at the jealous edge to Jessica’s tone. “Jace has been shot. I wasn’t sure who needed to be informed.”

“Shot?”

“Yeah, shot.”

“What do you mean Jace has been shot?”

“I mean some dickhead shot him with a gun.”

“Shot him?”

“Yes, shot him. Can I just talk to Sed?”

“He’s not here. He went to the studio. Eric said Jace bailed on recording this afternoon, so Sed’s working on vocal tracks.”

Aggie realized if she wouldn’t have surprised Jace with a visit, he’d still be safely in the recording studio and not lying in some hospital bed. “Will you let Sed know what happened? Jace will be in here overnight. Probably longer.”

“Which hospital are you at?”

“County.”

“I’ll round up the guys, and we’ll come see him. How’d he manage to get shot?” Jessica asked.

“Some guy tried to grab my purse, and I refused to give it to him. He pulled a gun, and Jace shoved me out of the way. He took two bullets for me—all because I was stupid. I should have just given that bastard my fucking purse.” Aggie rubbed the center of her chest, her heart aching.

“Don’t blame yourself, Aggie. Blame the guy with the gun. We’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“Thanks, Jess.”

Aggie returned to the room, sat in the chair beside the bed, and took Jace’s hand. She kissed his knuckles—pressed them to her cheek. She really did love him. She couldn’t deny it. Did he feel the same? He’d never said much about his feelings, but she knew he felt something for her. He always spoke far more in actions than he did in words. Of course, it could be simple sexual attraction on his end. She wasn’t sure if that was enough for her. It had once been, but now… now she wasn’t sure about anything.

Over an hour of worry later, she heard a commotion near the end of the hall. “Yes, we’re his family. Get the fuck out of my way.” Was that Sed? Had to be. That deep baritone was highly distinctive. “Jace,” Aggie whispered, shaking him slightly. “They’re here.”

He groaned, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Jace!”

“Tired,” he murmured. At least she was pretty sure that’s what he said. She was completely sure he was still asleep.

Within minutes the room was packed wall to wall with people.

The entire band had come to visit him? Aggie knew that would mean a lot to Jace, had he been conscious.

“Thanks for coming. I didn’t know who else to call,” Aggie said, glancing from one rock star to the next.

“The band isn’t complete without little man,” Eric said.

Sed stood at the side of the bed, staring at Jace as if to heal him with the power of his will. “He’s in bad shape,” Sed murmured. “He looks like shit.”

“He’s not going to die on us, is he?” Trey asked.

“His doctor said his surgery went well,” Aggie said. “They got the bullet out. The wound is clean. It just needs to heal.”

“Should have known something like this would happen,” Eric said, looking at Jace anxiously. “He was supposed to record in the studio this afternoon, and pow—he gets shot. This fuckin’ album is cursed, I tell you.”

“You recorded drum tracks this afternoon, and nothing happened to you,” Trey reminded him.

“Yet,” Eric said, glancing over his shoulder as if searching for the curse cloud now following him.

“Any idea how long he’ll be out of commission?” Sed asked.

“A few weeks.”

“We leave for Canada in three days,” Brian said.

“You’re leaving again already?” Aggie hated to be the needy girlfriend, but she never got to see him, and Jace had no business touring the continent while he was injured.

“Supposed to,” Sed said. “Can’t really perform without our bassist though.”

“How did he get shot?” Eric asked.

“Protecting me.”

Eric grinned at her crookedly. “You’d never know it from looking at him, but the dude is badass.”

“I’m sure he’d like you to tell him that,” Aggie said.

“No can do. We don’t need another egomaniac in the band. Sed’s got that persona covered.” Eric winced when Sed slapped him on the back of the head.

“What do you need us to do for you, Aggie?” Jessica asked, putting an arm around Aggie and rubbing the middle of her back.

Aggie’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “Me?” She shook her head. “I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s not what I meant. It must’ve been horrible to witness someone you…” Jessica’s eyebrows arched in question. “Care about?”

Aggie nodded. She’d admit that she cared about Jace. Even in front of all these guys that meant so much to him and whom she didn’t know very well.

“It must’ve been horrible to witness someone you care about get shot. I thought I’d stroke out when Sed blew out his throat onstage last month.”

Sed kissed his fiancée’s temple. “It wasn’t as bad as it looked, baby.”

“How would you like to watch helplessly while I lay unconscious in a puddle of blood?”

Sed jerked Jessica into his arms and rubbed his lips over her silky, strawberry blonde hair. “Don’t even put that vision in my head.” He offered Aggie a pat on the shoulder. “If you need anything, anything at all, just ask. We’ll help.”

“I’m fine. And I think Jace mostly needs to rest. I don’t know what he’ll want to do about the upcoming tour.” Aggie could guess that he wouldn’t want to let his bandmates down, but she didn’t want to speak for him.

“Actually, I might have a solution,” Eric said. “I’ll need to make some phone calls.”

“You have a solution?” Brian asked.

“What? You don’t trust me to solve our problems?” Eric asked.

Sed, Brian, and Trey shook their heads in unison. For the first time since Aggie had stepped out of her car in Los Angeles, she smiled.

Chapter 22

Jace moaned in his sleep.

The gurney followed him. He ran down an endless corridor. White tiles, white walls, blinding white light from above. Antiseptic smells. Jason was too afraid to look behind him. He could hear the squeak of the wheels, so he knew the gurney was still there. Still following him.

Kiss your mother good-bye, son.

Jason stopped. The squeaky wheels stopped right behind him.

Kiss your mother good-bye, son. Kiss your mother—

He covered his ears to drown out his father’s voice. No. I can’t. Don’t make me.

This might be the last time you see her. Don’t you love her? Don’t you care?

That’s not her. It’s not her.

He didn’t want to look at her, with her face smashed, swollen, and bruised.

Unrecognizable. Not human. Her body twisted. Contorted. That thing on the gurney was not his mother.

The gurney bumped into his shoulder blades. His heart lurched. He ran. Ran faster than he’d ever run before.

Don’t step on a crack. He tried to jump over them, but they moved beneath his feet, and he couldn’t avoid them all.

He stepped on one. He’d heard her body crunch when the approaching headlights disappeared. Over the sounds of the rending metal and shattering glass, he’d heard it from the backseat.

Her back is broken, son. If she lives, she’ll never walk again.

But she’ll still be able to play the piano, won’t she, Father?

I don’t think so.

For that, Jason grieved.

Don’t cry, boy. Men don’t cry. Not ever.

He didn’t cry. He ran. Ran until he couldn’t run anymore. No breath left in him. No energy. If he couldn’t run, he had to hide. Hide from it. If it found him, it would get him. The thing on the gurney pretending to be his mother would get him.

An old shed became his salvation. He crammed his body into a small space. A dark place. Musty like an old attic. The air stale and stifling. But he was alone here. He liked being alone. Alone was safe. He listened for the squeak of wheels. They never came, but after a long time his father did.

Everyone has been looking for you all day. I don’t have the patience for this bullshit right now, Jason. Your mother is dead. Do you understand? She’s dead! You’re alive—not a fucking scratch on you—but she’s dead.

Jason was too stunned to feel the first blow.

Dead? What did it mean to be dead? Was it like sleeping? A long sleep with no more pain?

Too confused to feel the second blow.

Don’t you ever hide from me again, you piece of shit. Not ever.

Jason heard the squeak of the gurney’s wheels outside the shed door.

Too afraid to feel the third blow. The fourth. Fifth. The pain washed over him like a comforting blanket. He deserved this. Hurt me, Father. Hurt me.

Jace’s eyes flipped open, his heart thumping with terror. His gaze darted around the sterile white walls. The IV bag hanging beside the bed. The heart rate monitor. The curtain rod above his bed. Instead of receding, fear rose up his neck until it strangled him. An instinctual need to run gripped him. Jace reached for the IV needle in the back of his hand, but before he could jerk it out, someone grabbed his wrist.

“Jace,” Aggie said. “It’s okay. Do you remember what happened? You’re in the hospital.”

He knew he was in the fucking hospital, and he needed to get out. Immediately. Years ago, a counselor had told him that he had post-traumatic stress disorder, but somehow, putting a name to it didn’t make it easier to deal with when it caught him off guard and sent him into a panic. It had been a long time since he’d dreamed of his mother’s death. A long time since the traumas of his youth had controlled his reactions to the outside world. He’d thought he’d moved beyond this bullshit—apparently not.

“Aggie,” he said, grabbing her with both arms and pulling her against him on the bed. He hugged her as tight as he could, which didn’t seem nearly tight enough. “Aggie, you have to get me out of here.”

“Sweetheart, you’re hurt. You can’t leave.” Her voice was muffled against his shoulder, which he vaguely recognized as throbbing dully in pain.

“I have to leave. Right now.”

“Let go. You’re going to damage your shoulder.”

He had no idea what she meant. “Aggie, please.”

“I’ll talk to your doctor.”

“They can’t keep me here against my will.” He released her reluctantly, and she stared into his eyes. She cupped his cheek and offered him a sad smile.

“It’s okay, baby,” she said. “I’ll take it away.” She kissed his lips tenderly. “Take it.”