by J. S. Scott
Laura
When I opened my eyes, everything seemed blurred and tilted in my world.
What in the hell?
I couldn’t make sense of where I was or what had happened. All I knew was that my chest was heavy, like I was trying to breathe, but couldn’t, because there was an elephant sitting on my chest.
I need to get up. I need to get out of bed.
I had to be home, but nothing looked like my condo or Mason’s house.
The second I moved, I gasped as a pain so excruciating ripped through my upper body that it forced me to lay back down.
“Don’t move,” I heard a familiar baritone voice say insistently.
“Mason?” I said, barely getting a whisper out of my mouth.
“It’s Hudson,” the voice explained. “You just came out of surgery. But from what I gathered when I called Mason’s office, he’ll be here soon. His assistant said he was on his way to San Diego. Just relax.”
Hudson?
Hudson Montgomery.
Suddenly, I remembered everything.
The gunshots.
The terror.
The pain.
And then…nothing.
I turned my head carefully, and I could see Hudson standing right next to the bed.
“I’m in the hospital? What happened?”
“You don’t remember?” Hudson asked.
“Not much. I assume I was shot. But you were shot, too.” I looked at him, alarmed.
“Mine was nothing. Just a graze. They stitched me up in the emergency department. I’m fine, Laura, but you caught a bullet. Luckily, it didn’t hit a rib, but it did puncture your lung. You have a chest tube in right now. They took you to surgery to explore the wound and close it properly. But the chest tube has to stay in for a while. I’m sorry. I wish I could have seen the bastard coming,” he finished, his tone angry and remorseful at the same time.
I could remember Hudson hurtling toward me, and taking me to the ground. “Don’t be sorry,” I whispered. “You probably saved my life. I thought I was dying. What happened to everyone else in the restaurant?”
“There were two fatalities. The shooter was a disgruntled former employee. He killed the two owners in the kitchen and then started to shoot indiscriminately everywhere else,” he said stoically.
Tears sprang to my eyes because two people had been killed so senselessly. “Did they catch him?”
“I killed him,” Hudson answered without an ounce of remorse in his voice. “There were other injuries, but it sounds like they’ll all survive.”
I vaguely remembered that Hudson had pulled out a gun, but I didn’t know he’d shot the perpetrator.
“Thank God,” I said in a choked voice, barely able to contain my urge to openly sob from the entire ordeal.
I felt Hudson’s hand stroking my hair. “Don’t cry. It will hurt like hell.”
I nodded my head. “I know. Any kind of movement hurts.”
“You’re going to be okay, Laura. It will take time to heal. You’re in intensive care right now, but the nurse said you’ll be able to go to the surgical floor once the chest tube gets removed and you’re more stable.” He pulled up a chair, sat by the bed, and then reached for my hand.
I took it. I felt like I needed something or someone to hang on to, and Hudson had protected me with his own body. I didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t gotten me down to the ground. “Thank you,” I croaked out hoarsely.
“Don’t thank me,” he said huskily. “I’m just glad you’re going to live through all this. I won’t even try to pretend that it will be easy. It was a pretty traumatic event.”
“Luckily, I was unconscious for most of it,” I explained. “The last thing I remember is you telling me not to move. After that, everything is pretty much a blank.”
“It might be better that way,” he considered. “Not the getting shot part, but the unconscious part. The carnage wasn’t pretty.”
Sadness overwhelmed me, and I couldn’t help but wonder how the other victims were faring, and how the family of the two restaurant owners were going to cope with the violent death of their loved ones.
I hurt, but I’d be okay.
I had no idea what was going to happen to everyone else.
Hudson squeezed my hand. “Hey, don’t overthink all of this right now. It will make you crazy. Just concentrate on getting well.”
At the moment, I felt weak and fragile, so being healthy and whole again seemed like a difficult stretch.
“Where did you get hit?” I asked Hudson.
“My shoulder,” he answered. “But it’s all patched up.”
He didn’t look like he was in pain. He just looked…weary. “Why in the world were you carrying a gun?”
I was fairly certain it wasn’t easy to get a concealed carry permit in San Diego.
“That’s a discussion for another day. Long story,” Hudson said lightly.
“I think I have nothing but time right now. And I’d definitely be a captive audience.”
I’d be happy to hear Hudson talk. Anything to get my mind off what had happened earlier in the day.
Unfortunately, I knew I wasn’t going to get the story as I saw Hudson’s eyes go to the doorway of my hospital room.
“Laura, you have another visitor,” the nurse said with a soft, soothing voice as she entered.
Hudson’s mouth formed into a wry smile as he stood. “I bet I can guess who it is.”
“Mason,” I said longingly. God, I hoped it was him. I desperately needed to see him right now.
Hudson let go of my hand. “I’ll go let him come in. They only want short visits, and one person at a time right now. I’ll come back in tomorrow. Get some rest, Laura.”
“Since he’s not a relative, I couldn’t give him any information,” the nurse explained.
“I’ll fill him in,” Hudson told me.
I nodded. “Take care of yourself. Even though you’re making it sound like no big deal, you have to be hurting.”
He shrugged, and then winced, obviously forgetting that he had a wound in his shoulder. “I’ll live. I’ve survived worse,” he said ruefully before he strode toward the door.
I watched him leave, hoping he wasn’t in more pain than he’d let on.
Hudson Montgomery had saved my life, and I knew we’d always have a bond because of the horrific experience we’d shared.
Eventually, I’d get the truth out of him as to why he carried a weapon, and why he had such lightning-fast reactions, even while he was in the middle of chaos.
There was way more to Hudson Montgomery than he was willing to share.
I’d seen a very quick glimpse of somebody way different than his public persona.
Somebody dark and heroic, which made me wonder exactly how many secrets Hudson really had.
Mason
The moment that Hudson Montgomery came into the empty waiting room, I grabbed the bastard and pinned him against the wall. “What in the hell did you do to her?” I growled.
“Fuck. I’m injured, man. Let go,” he said with an agitated groan.
I could see the pain in his eyes, and even though I wanted to kill him, I knew I wouldn’t.
I let go.
“You better explain yourself pretty damn quick,” I warned. “I want to know what happened, why it happened, why you were with my woman, and if she’s okay. Answer the last question first. Is she okay? The medical staff won’t tell me shit.”
Hudson moved away from the wall. “She was shot. The bullet went between her ribs, but it did hit her lung bad enough for it to deflate. She had to have surgery, but yes, she’s going to be okay. However, the last thing she needs is your bullshit. Get a fucking grip before you go in there. She’s been through a really traumatic experience, and she nearly died. What she needs right now is a man who has his shit together. This isn’t about you. Remember that.”
Fuck! I wanted to punch the bastard out, but I didn’t want to get booted ou
t of the hospital. Plus, somewhere in my rational mind, I knew he was right.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “This is being broadcasted all over the internet,” I informed him as I turned the phone so he could see the photo of him and Laura.
“Shit!” he exclaimed angrily. “Yes, we were together, because I asked her for a meeting while she was here. I led her to believe that it was about business. And we weren’t touching each other like it looks in the picture. I was handing her my business card to give to you. I knew you two were close, and I was hoping she might be able to tell me exactly why your ornery ass never returns my calls. Don’t put this on her. It’s all on me. And I hate myself for putting her in that position. If I hadn’t asked her to meet me, she wouldn’t be in intensive care. If you want to be angry at somebody, be pissed off at me, not her.”
I could see the guilt he was feeling written all over his face, and although I didn’t feel the least bit sorry for the bastard, I did start to calm down.
“I’m not angry at Laura. It wasn’t her fault. How bad are her injuries?. Really?” I asked huskily.
“Bad,” he answered. “But not fatal. It’s going to take her time to recover from it. She’s hurting right now, physically and emotionally. Just support her, Mason. That’s what she needs right now.”
“Of course I’m going to support her,” I snarled back at him.
“For what it’s worth, she’s an amazing woman. She has your back, cousin. When it comes to you, she’s very tight-lipped, and incredibly loyal. She cares about you, man. A lot.”
Most of my animosity toward Hudson was fading away. “How are you doing? You said you’re hurt.”
“My graze to the shoulder is nothing compared to what Laura is going through. I’ll heal a hell of a lot faster than she will,” he said.
“Why did this happen?” I asked.
“As to the what and why part of your questions, the why is senseless. The perp was a disgruntled employee who got fired because he didn’t show up for work half the time. What happened? The bastard shot the restaurant owners who fired him first, and then started to shoot up the entire place. He was a lunatic,” Hudson informed me in a brusque tone that contained more than a little acrimony.
“I’ll kill the bastard,” I growled.
“I’d love to give you that privilege, but I had to do it myself, so he didn’t kill more people in that restaurant,” Hudson said solemnly. “I shot him. It was a kill shot.”
What the fuck?
“Do I even want to know why you had a concealed weapon in a crowded restaurant in downtown San Diego?” I grumbled.
Maybe I didn’t know Hudson, but he was my damn cousin by blood. He wasn’t the intended target of this shooting, but did he have enemies who wanted to kill him so much that he had to carry a loaded weapon on him all the time?
“I have a permit to carry,” Hudson said with a wry smile. “I’m not into the mafia or drug running. Everything surrounding Montgomery Mining is perfectly legit.”
“It’s not easy to get a concealed carry permit in this state,” I reminded him. “You need to have good cause to carry. So what I the hell are you into?”
“Let’s leave the explanation for another time,” Hudson suggested. “It’s a long story. And I have to get to the police station to give them my statement.”
“I need to see Laura,” I said, my jaw clenched tightly now that I knew exactly how one asshole had hurt so damn many people.
“She knows you’re here. Go. There’s nobody in her room now, and I think she’ll feel better after she sees you. She needs to rest, and I think all of the shit that happened is just starting to hit her right now.” Hudson stepped back to get out of the doorway.
Hudson added, “If you need a place to stay, I can put you up at my place.”
I shook my head. “I want to stay with Laura.”
“If they kick you out, call me,” Hudson said as he exited the waiting room.
My cousin was forgotten the moment he left, and I picked up the internal phone to get buzzed into the intensive care unit.
The nurse inside the door directed me to Laura’s room, and I stopped at the door the moment I saw her lying in a hospital bed, looking so damn fragile and connected to so many tubes and wires that she appeared to be even more frail than she probably was in reality.
I pushed myself to walk into the room, and forget about how damn angry I was that she was in this condition, because Hudson was right.
I had to forget about my own damn fears about losing her.
This was all about Laura right now.
It wasn’t about me.
I felt like I’d been sucker-punched when she shot me a weak smile as she saw me approaching the bed.
Her voice was weak as she mumbled, “I’d love to throw myself into your arms right now, but I’m a little tied down by all this medical stuff.”
It was meant to be a joke, but I couldn’t manage to put even a small smile on my face.
I leaned down and stroked her beautiful hair, which looked matted and lifeless. “I was fucking afraid that you were dead,” I said in a choked voice that I barely recognized as my own.
A tear trickled from the corner of her eye. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your damn fault,” I said tightly. “You were just having lunch, for fuck’s sake.”
“I’m still sorry that you had to worry about this. I’m going to be fine, Mason.”
Did she really think there would ever be a time when I wouldn’t be frantic about her safety?
Dammit! After this incident, I was going to have a hard time letting her leave my sight.
Really, this was my fault. I should have just answered Hudson’s calls and told him to fuck off. Or maybe we could have just had a casual relationship, so he wouldn’t have reached out to other people I cared about to try to get to me.
Problem was, I hadn’t wanted to talk to him.
I had a family.
I didn’t need more, especially not family members I hadn’t even known existed.
When Hudson had first reached out to me, I’d been floored that I was blood-related to the Montgomery family. My mother had never mentioned exactly who had assaulted her.
After that, I decided I just didn’t give a damn because I already had all the family I needed. Real family who knew me and gave a damn about me. I didn’t want cousins who weren’t cousins to my brothers and sisters, too.
I would have needed to tell my siblings the truth, and I didn’t want to be different.
However, my own stubbornness had eventually affected Laura in a way that was physically and emotionally devastating.
Right now, I hated being the person who had caused this to happen to her.
Laura shouldn’t have been in that restaurant. She wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for me being in her life.
Hudson would have never contacted her.
And she wouldn’t be here in this hospital bed, looking like she’d barely survived a horrific mass shooting.
I leaned down and kissed her forehead, and then swiped away the offending tear on the side of her face.
“I’m so glad you’re here now,” she whispered.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “Sleep, Laura. Don’t try to talk. Hudson told me everything. Just rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I was fucking going to be glued to her side until she was one hundred percent healed.
After that, I was going to do whatever the hell it took to make sure she’d never go through something like this again.
Her eyes started to flutter closed, and she answered, “Just one thing I have to tell you first. When I was hurt and not sure I was going to live through the shooting, I regretted not saying it before.”
“What?” I asked, my voice husky with emotion.
“I love you, Mason. I want you to know that because I don’t want to ever regret not telling you again,” she said, right before she sighed and fell asleep.
Laura
It took almost a month after my injury before I felt completely normal again.
Unfortunately, rather than bringing us closer, my whole recovery period had seemed to make Mason more distant than he’d ever been before.
Oh, he was there for every single need I’d had until just recently. He’d been incredibly supportive, pushing me and keeping my spirits up when things got difficult. But he did it from an emotional distance.
Until I was completely healed.
Now, I hadn’t heard from him at all for several days. He was making every excuse in the world to avoid me.
If I called his cell phone or texted, I got no reply.
If I called his office, I got some excuse from his secretary, who I talked to more than I talked to him these days.
He was working.
He was in a meeting.
He was out for lunch.
He was just…unavailable. I think his secretary used that one when she just didn’t know what in the hell to say.
There was something wrong.
I could sense it.
I’d been feeling pretty good after the first two weeks, yet there had been no intimacy between Mason and me at all.
Oh, he’d said all the right words, but he’d been…emotionally vacant.
The man didn’t kiss me except for a quick peck on the lips, or even worse, my cheek or forehead, like I was a child and not a woman he supposedly wanted to be in an exclusive relationship with.
Mason treated me more like a close friend than as a significant other.
“Maybe he thinks you’re still recovering,” Brynn suggested as we had coffee and pieces of cake she’d stopped for at my favorite bakery before she’d arrived at my condo around lunchtime.
We were seated at the small table in my kitchen. Brynn and I had been meeting somewhere every single day, trying to catch up on the time and events we’d lost while I’d been getting my health back.
Brynn had been there for me, too, whenever I needed her. But most of our discussions had revolved around my health during the first few weeks of my recovery.
I shook my head. “He knows I have a clean bill of health. He was at the doctor’s office with me last week when she told me I didn’t have to come back again unless I had any complications, which she didn’t expect would happen.”