CHAPTER FORTY
Mr. Helpless
BIANCA
I woke with a violent jerk, my thoughts going immediately to Stephan. It was as though the sight of him lying there, lifeless, with bloody holes in his chest, had just been circling around in my head while I was out. I remembered everything as though it had happened just instants before, though I knew very well that I was in a hospital by the familiar sounds and smells.
I turned my head sharply, seeking out James. The short motion made my head ache and the side of my face burned sharply.
I felt my hand in his and knew that he’d stayed at my side for the ordeal. I saw in his weary, grief-stricken face how it had cost him, what he’d been put through.
“Stephan?” was the first word out of my mouth. It was agony to try to talk. I had to speak through my teeth, since I could barely open my mouth. I ignored the pain, focusing on James, desperate for an answer.
James raised his bloodshot, agonized eyes to mine. Those turquoise depths had never looked so relieved. He gasped in a breath, as though coming up for air. He blinked at me several times before he found his voice. “He’s recovering from surgery.”
I only heard his voice in one ear, and wondered vaguely if I’d lost the hearing in the other. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered to me but finding out about Stephan just then.
“How badly was he hurt? Will he be okay? I need to see him now,” I said, trying to sit up.
He paused for a long time to choose his words, and that scared me more than anything. “He’s in the ICU. He was badly hurt. No one can see him—“
I pulled the IV from my arm, sitting up. The pain in my head and ear temporarily darkened my vision and a dull roar started up in the ear that was working. “I need to see him now.”
I didn’t realize what a commotion I’d caused until I’d been wrestled back into the bed, and saw the amount of people that had gathered to restrain me.
My eyes sought out James while a nurse shoved needles into my arm. I felt terrible as I saw the tears running down his cheeks and the helpless look on his face. “Please, James. I have to see him.”
Finally he nodded. “Please don’t do that again. I’ll arrange for you to see him, but you must stay in your bed.”
I nodded, closing my eyes in relief. He would do as he said. He always had.
I didn’t sleep, but I didn’t open my eyes again until I felt my bed begin to move. A team of nurses surrounded me, James at my right, clutching my hand as he followed beside the wheeled hospital bed. “Who else made it?” I asked James, bracing myself for the answer.
“Blake was wounded badly, but they’re telling me now that she’ll make it.”
“So that means that…” I swallowed hard, finding it hard to finish the sentence.
“Paterson and Henry died before the paramedics could arrive. Your…father did as well.”
I processed that, blinking away tears. “You wouldn’t believe how many holes he had in his chest, and still he kept coming…”
“It was a bullet to the brain that ended him,” James told me. “Stephan came to just long enough to take him out. I owe him yet another debt that I can never repay.”
My chest burned and I shut my eyes, letting awful tears run down my cheeks. Of course Stephan had survived long enough to save me. My hero. I couldn’t lose him. My eyes shot back open as a thought occurred. “Did he see my father shoot me?”
“He must have. They deduced that your father must have gotten off the shot just before Stephan fired. They tell me your struggle is all that saved you. He shot into your cheek. There was damage, but he missed his target.”
I tried to touch the bandaged side of my face. “How on earth?”
“You’ve lost significant hearing in that ear, and they had to do surgery on your jaw. There will be scarring along your jaw and cheek, but we will make sure it’s minimized as much as possible. You will have the best plastic surgeons in the world at your disposal.”
He continued to talk, but I barely even heard him, my mind still on Stephan. I couldn’t care less about the scarring, my jaw, or even the loss of hearing. I was alive. The rest were details.
But Stephan… Stephan had to live. “How long was I out?”
“Four days.”
“Tell me about Stephan’s wounds.”
“Both bullets missed his heart, if only barely, but one punctured a lung, and he’s had some internal bleeding that has persisted. The doctor who performed the surgery believes that it was a success, but he says that Stephan won’t be out of danger until his vitals stabilize. It’s been very touch and go. They tell me he’s improved, followed by a decline, but he’s getting the best care available, and he’s a healthy young man, so they say we can be hopeful, even though he’s not yet stabilized.”
“If I see him, if I speak to him, it will help,” I said, more hopeful than certain. “If he knows I made it, he’ll pull through. He would have been devastated if he watched my father shoot me. This will help.”
My vision was completely blurred with tears as they rolled my bed beside Stephan’s. They wheeled me as close as possible, my feet pointed in the direction of his headrest. They were considerate enough to bring our unencumbered hands close. Javier was on the other side of him, his head bent over his other IV covered hand.
I gripped his fingers in mine, squeezing. “I made it, Stephan. I’m fine. You saved me again, but you need to wake up now. You were hurt, but it’s nothing that you can’t survive. Please, wake up.” I got louder as I spoke, my voice rough with emotion.
He didn’t so much as twitch. I glanced at his heart rate monitor, but could make no sense of it. I glanced at the closest nurse. “Have his vitals improved?” I asked her.
She pursed her lips. “They haven’t altered.”
They let me linger for a few more minutes, and I murmured soothingly to Stephan. He never responded, never moved. I hadn’t really thought he would, but I felt a crushing disappointment as they wheeled me away from him. Some part of me had been arrogantly hoping that the sound of my voice, and the knowledge that I had survived, would be enough to rouse him. He had been my last thought as I’d blacked out, and my first thought on waking. Knowing him as I did, I had just assumed that seeing me fall had been like that for him. Perhaps it really was beyond his control. That thought defeated me more than anything.
I drifted off as they carted me back to my own room, and I knew by the floaty feeling that it was a drug induced sleep.
When I woke again, James was watching for it. He was speaking to me the instant my eyes blinked open groggily.
“He’s improved. Less than two hours after you spoke to him, he opened his eyes for the first time, and they tell me his vitals have finally begun to improve. The doctor went so far as to say that there is a good chance that he will pull through.”
“How long was I asleep for?”
“Only four hours. Stephan’s first word was your name. He was just as frantic to see you, though he was in no condition to pull his own IV out.”
There was a reprimand in his voice, and I could hardly blame him. I studied him, trying to see just how much he’d been damaged by it all, because I knew for a certainty that he had.
“You were right,” I told him, “I shouldn’t have gone back to the house.” I’d been so sure he was just overreacting, but somehow his instincts had been dead on. I’d never dreamed that my father could still get to me with so many people protecting me, but he had managed to beat all reasonable odds. “Are you furious with me?”
His face went a little slack, as though the question had caught him completely off guard. “The thought never even occurred. There’s no room left in me for fury. After thinking you were dead, then realizing that you would live, I’m only capable of relief. We may have to start going to church now.”
“Church?” I asked, perplexed.
“Yes. I prayed for a miracle, and you survived.”
I supposed that it was all rather miraculous, and I was more grateful for my life than I’d ever been after the ordeal, but I had more questions. “Was my father on something? He took so much damage, and still he kept coming.” I spoke slowly and carefully. Speaking would be rough for a while, and I knew that my words were hard to understand.
James nodded. “Yes. He was on several somethings. Some mix of crystal meth and bath salts. Your father ambushed Henry, then beat him to death with a large rock a few blocks from your house. He took his gun, and walked to your house. He jumped the fence in back and landed on Paterson, who shot him. He shot him back, a point blank shot to the chest. They said it killed Paterson almost instantly, partially because of the type of bullets in the gun, and the range of the shot.”
“Blake confronted him, and shot him again in the chest. They deduced that this made him drop his gun. He then picked up Paterson’s gun. This was a smaller gun, with lighter ammo, and what he shot all three of you with, which is most likely why you survived. Henry’s gun is the one that Stephan found and used to shoot your father in the head. Let’s just say that gun had more effect on a giant, drug-crazed man, especially since Stephan had such unerring aim. The bodyguards were trained to shoot for the heart, but Stephan went for a headshot.”
I nodded, thankful that he’d given me a full explanation, but devastated by all of the senseless loss. “Those poor men.”
James nodded gravely. “Yes, I know. So much went wrong. It’s hard to imagine that one man wreaked so much havoc when he was outnumbered like that, but they say the mix of drugs gave him a superhuman burst of strength. None of us considered that possibility, much to my everlasting regret.”
I squeezed his hand, which enveloped mine warmly. I searched his beautiful eyes, knowing that he felt a crushing guilt like I did. “I’m so sorry, James. If I’d had any ide—“
“Don’t,” he interrupted. He gentled his voice, and his eyes. “Please don’t. We can’t take anything back, just as we couldn’t have seen the future. All we can do is be thankful that it wasn’t worse. When I first set foot into that backyard, I was convinced that my worst nightmare had come to fruition. I’ll never stop being grateful that you survived that. We are unspeakably lucky that there weren’t more lives lost. All three of you were critical just days ago, and are now on the road to recovery.”
It was several days before Stephan was moved from the ICU, and we were both awake to see each other. We had a teary-eyed reunion, clutching hands and sobbing like babies.
“I was so afraid that you wouldn’t recover,” I gasped.
He gave a strangled half-laugh, half-sob. “You were afraid? I watched him shoot you in the head. I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from the sight.”
I winced at the visual. “But you saved me.”
“Always, Buttercup,” he said, squeezing my hand hard. “Always.”
He continued, quickly switching to a lighter topic. “Would it be tacky for me to get engaged just over a week after you did?”
I looked around for Javier, taken aback at the question. We were completely alone, even James giving us a moment of privacy.
“You’re engaged?” I questioned.
He shook his head, wearing his most boyish grin. “No, but I want to propose. I wanted to get your blessing first.”
I gave him an exasperated look, then laughed. “Yes. If you want to be silly and ask for my blessing, then you have it. Always. Nothing would make me happier.”
“It’s going to be smooth sailing from here on out, Bee. We’ve earned it.”
I returned his carefree smile, hoping that he might be right.