Find Me (The Found Duet #2)(93)
Author: Laurelin Paige

If he was dead, the doctor would have told me, I reasoned. If he was dead, it wouldn’t be Drew who broke the news.

But my basis for protocol came strictly from TV, so it was hard to feel reassured.

When we got to our floor, we were buzzed into the Intensive Care Unit with no questions asked. This had to be where JC was. And Drew must have already been up here. My uneasiness spiraled into dread.

Drew guided me to the end of the hall and stopped outside a patient room. He nodded to a police officer in uniform who seemed to be standing guard and then opened the door and gestured for me to enter. Tentatively, I stepped inside, surprised to find Dom was there, as well as two of his team members. They hovered around the hospital bed, blocking my view of the patient who lay there, but I could hear the heart monitor, its blip blip strong and even.

I brushed past the men, and at the sight of JC, let out a strangled sob, unable to speak. I’d been so fearful of what I’d see when I got to him, afraid I’d be met with vacant eyes and colorless cheeks and the rhythmic swoosh of an oxygen machine. Instead, he was sitting up, his face animated as he listened to Dom say something about the security level of the unit. He was bare-chested, not even wearing a hospital gown. A cord ran from JC to the monitor and another to an IV drip, but except for the bandage on the upper left side of his chest and the sling around his shoulder and arm, he appeared unscathed.

He opened his mouth to reply to Dom when his eyes caught mine. Immediately, his expression softened and he stretched out his right arm, an unspoken invitation for me to come to him.

I ran into the crook he’d created, tears streaming down my face. “I thought you were…” I couldn’t finish that sentence. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

“I’m fine. Bullet went clean through. Tore some of my muscle, that’s all.” He kissed my forehead and stroked my hair. “I’m just so relieved that it didn’t hit you too.”

I cried harder, the anxiety of the last two and a half hours finally releasing in a torrent of emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” I could barely get words out, so I kept saying it over and over.

“Shh,” JC hushed me. “Whatever are you sorry for?”

It had been my fault he’d been at that drug den. My fault that he’d been around the kind of people who would throw a shot at innocent bystanders outside the door of a heroin dealer. If I’d just let the police handle my father, JC would never have been in the line of fire.

It was too much for me to say, though, so I just cried, and he let me.

After a few minutes, I remembered we had an audience, and I started to feel self-conscious. My apologies could wait. The crying slowed, and I gratefully took the tissue Dom offered.

“I don’t understand why no one told me you were okay,” I said when I could speak again.

Drew was the one who answered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you out there. Too many ears. Until we can make a game plan, we prefer to operate under the illusion that JC’s condition is more serious than it is.”

I wiped a stray tear with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around JC’s. “It was almost three hours! You couldn’t even drop me a hint?”

This time it was JC who answered. “I wanted them to tell you sooner, but they had to arrange admission to the ICU and make sure the staff was on board with the situation before we brought you in. I’m sorry you were worried.”

Irritation prickled at me but was overwhelmed by relief and confusion. “You’re really okay?”

His grip tightened around my hand. “I really am.”

“Why are we in the ICU, then? Isn’t this unit for patients with severe trauma?”

“It is,” Drew answered. “But it’s the most secure unit in the hospital. And we don’t want Mennezzo to realize that JC is basically unharmed. Otherwise he might try to arrange another hit. This buys us a little bit of time.”

“Mennezzo? He wasn’t behind this.” I understood why Mennezzo would be a suspect, but it made just as much sense that the shooting had been because of our location. “This had to be someone else. We were at a drug den. It was most likely related to that. Wrong place, wrong time.”

I lowered my eyes. “It was my fault you got shot. When I think of what could have happened because of me…?” I couldn’t finish the thought, knowing if I did, I’d end up in tears again.

“You think this was your fault?” JC’s voice was sympathetic and incredulous all at once.

“Because you were there for me. I should never have risked either of us in a place like that. Not for the sake of the piece of shit that calls itself my father.”