by Unknown
She let out the breath she held with a relieved sigh, only now, realizing how tense she'd been. She didn't know what her problem was, why she was so uneasy, but she'd noticed Chris had been edgy all day, as well. Maybe his restless emotions were influencing her own.
After a round of delivery boy pleasantries, she gave the kid some money, and he handed her the bag. The tangy and spicy smell of Chinese goodness wafted up in warm waves as Jo made her way back to the living room.
"When's Mase coming home?" Chris asked, attacking the bag as soon as Jo set it on the coffee table.
"He texted me about twenty minutes ago, said he was done with his meeting, so soon I would imagine," Jo said, as she made her way to the kitchen to grab napkins and plates.
"Cool."
"Why, was there something you needed?" She asked, once she returned to the living room. She held out a napkin and a plate, giving them a little wave so he would take them.
"No, he's just usually here, so I wondered, is all."
Jo sat down in the corner of the couch, curling her feet under her. It was true, Mase was always with them. "He told me this morning he had a mandatory meeting between the team and coaches to discuss the upcoming season."
Chris nodded his head while taking a huge bite of noodles. After chewing and swallowing, he said, "It must be pretty cool, dating someone famous."
Jo shrugged. "He's just a normal guy." Although that wasn't entirely true. To her, he was a far cry from normal. No mere normal man had been able to crawl under her skin and wrap themselves around her heart.
"Come on. I find that hard to believe."
"He is to me. I barely knew who he was before I met him."
Chris nodded, swallowing another mouthful of food. "I can understand that. I love football and have been following the Pursuer's for ages so for me, meeting Mase was super exciting, but I guess if I didn't know who he was, he would just be some guy I met." He shrugged then took another bite of food.
Jo silently giggled. Teenaged boys and their food. "Exactly."
They both heard the key in the lock and turned to see Mase walk through the door. Jo gave him a bright smile as she stood from the couch to meet him halfway. "How was the meeting?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his waist.
He smiled down at her. "Long and bor–"
A deafening noise filled the room. The sound of shattered glass and splintering wood crashed like a wave around them. A strange, loud, popping sound that her non-accepting brain refused to comprehend echoed with a rat-a-tat-tat one usually only heard in the movies. Jo felt Mase's body jerk, his hip jamming into her stomach before he forced her to the floor, covering her with his body. He forced her legs between his, slamming them together and squeezing them tight. He wrapped his arm around her head, shoving it in his neck, protecting it as much as possible. It was a fight to breathe, but she didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of Mase's heart, pounding in his neck and in turn, pounding against her cheek. The special scent, that was all Mase, that drifted through her nose as she panted out shallow breaths. And the warm heat of his body, engulfing her, wrapping her in a protective cocoon.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion, yet not. Time seemed to become a strange, unrealistic blur, jumping from one unbelievable event to the next. She heard Mase shout, so close to her ear, she felt the vibrations of his booming voice. "Get down on the ground, under the table, and stay there until I tell you to get up." And at the same time she heard Charlie, his bark barely competing with the exploding noises surrounding them.
Something warm and wet soaked the front of her shirt at her belly, and again, her brain refused to make the connection. Instead, she blocked everything, the house-rattling noises, the fear in her chest, and especially, the warm wetness against her belly and concentrated on only one thing. The low, gravelly whisper of Mase's voice in her ear, repeating over and over, "I've got you, Angel, I've got you. I won't let you go." Because she knew, as long as she heard his voice, he wasn't dead.
The sudden silence was almost as deafening as the explosions had been. Slowly small sounds filtered through her ears. Charlie's low growl. The mumble of the TV. Mase's heavy panting. The unexpected sound of a loud siren caused Jo's entire body to flinch, and she listened as it faded away in the distance.
Mase slowly and carefully lifted his body from hers. She looked into his beautiful face a few inches above hers and watched his lips move, not comprehending his words. He bent his head, and she followed suit, looking down the line of their bodies. Her once yellow top and his once blue tee were now covered in blood. Something clicked and her non-accepting brain finally accepted facts, fast-forwarding through the events of the last few minutes.
A sob broke free as Mase slowly rolled to his back. She reached out a tentative hand and grasped the hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it. There was so much blood, too much. She couldn't see anything. Another sob broke free.
A T-shirt came into her field of vision, and she looked up to see Chris had stripped his off and was handing it to her. "To stop the blood."
She took it from his hand and gently rubbed at Mase's stomach, looking for the source of the blood, finding it at his side above his right hip. She covered the area with Chris's shirt and applied pressure.
She felt Mase grab hold of her wrist, and she looked up. "I'm okay, Angel." His hand came up to wipe at her tears. "You know I hate to see you cry."
Jo grabbed his hand, turning her face to kiss his palm. Keeping one hand on his side, she leaned forward, putting the other hand on the floor beside Mase's head, bracing herself, so she hovered over him. "I never told you." Her words were barely discernible through her sobs. "I should have told you." Her tears fell. Some landing on his cheek, some on his chin, rolling down his neck.
He grabbed her chin, tilting her face, so she looked him right in the eyes. His face was pale, looking lifeless, but his eyes were blazing with heat as he said, "You told me, Angel, every damn day."
"Not with words."
"No, but with your eyes, with your lips, with your body." He pinched her chin when her eyes drifted from his. Startled, she quickly looked back. "With your heart."
"I should have said the words."
"You did. They were silent, but I heard them." His eyes pleaded with her to believe him. She closed her eyes and slowly nodded. "Hey, look at me." She opened her eyes. "I'm going to be okay."
"There's so much blood, and you're so pale."
A commotion at the door had her turning her head. Several uniformed officers crunched through the glass and debris, expertly trained eyes assessing the situation. Radios squawked what sounded like gibberish to Jo's ignorant ears. She watched as one officer's eyes landed on Mase. He tipped his head and mumbled some code into the radio at his shoulder that Jo hoped to God meant, send an ambulance fucking fast.
In a blink, the cop had knelt before her. "Ma'am, the paramedics are on the way." He put a hand to Mase's neck, checking his pulse. The meaning behind that action made her own pulse race and her heart pound. Crazy, uncontrollable thoughts floated through her mind. She couldn't lose him, not when she'd only just found him. He was the other half of her soul. She needed him.
Another sob broke free. She couldn't seem to stop. She felt his hand brush along her arm. "Promise you won't leave me." Her words came out in a rasp, her throat tight and raw from crying.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Please, promise."
"Come here."
She leaned forward, and his hand came up, sliding into the back of her hair, bringing her lips to his. It was a gentle kiss, lacking Mase's usually intensity, and that knowledge alone created a stabbing pain somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. She felt another sob well up in her chest, wanting to break free, but she refused to let it. Instead, it clogged her throat, making it impossible for her to swallow.
The pressure on the back of her head lessened, and she raised it to see a little color had come back to his cheeks. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere.
You're stuck with me, always." He gave her a sexy smile and wink, so reminiscent of the first time they met, it coaxed a surprised laugh from her.
A siren sounded in the distance, and Jo prayed it was the ambulance. Mase looked over at the officer. "The people who did this?"
Jo noticed his voice still sounded strong even if his breathing was a bit shallow, and she wondered how much pain he was in.
The officer gave Mase a slight nod. "We're in pursuit."
Two paramedics arrived, rolling in a stretcher. The cop got up and said something to them before they made their way over. Jo repositioned herself to get out of their way but refused to let go of Mase's hand. They checked his vitals, then removed the blood-soaked T-shirt to assess the injury.
She looked away. She'd seen it once and didn't care to see it again. She felt Mase squeeze her hand. "Stop crying, Angel. Everything's going to be fine."
She didn't realize she still cried. She sniffed, wiped her face, and gave him a brave smile.
"That's my girl." He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it.
"Ma'am, we're ready for transport."
Her head swam and her hands started to shake. Everything still felt so surreal, and she knew it would be a while before her brain finally sorted through all the emotional trauma. She clutched at Mase's hand, afraid to let go. His eyes were starting to droop and what little color that tinged his cheeks after their kiss had slowly faded.
"Ma'am, we need to transport." The younger of the paramedics said, pulling her from her stupor.
"Step back, baby, let them do their job."
Jo gave his hand one last squeeze before getting to her feet. She saw Chris and walked over to him. He looked scared and worried. Sometimes it was hard to remember that though he looked like a young man, deep down he was still just a boy.
She took his hand and gave him an encouraging smile. "He's going to be okay."
Chris didn't look at her. He kept his eyes trained on the paramedics loading Mase onto the stretcher. "Yeah."
They started to wheel him out, and Jo rushed over. "Wait, where are you taking him?"
The paramedic rattled off a local hospital. "I can't leave Chris. We'll follow you in the car."
Mase grabbed her hand and gave her a very serious look. "I don't want you in this house without me. Leave now. Take Charlie with you. Call Gage, his number's in my phone, he'll come pick him up from the hospital." Mase handed her his cell phone after carefully extracting it from his back pocket.
"Okay." Jo took the phone but was reluctant to let go of his hand and be separated from him.
"Mr. Connor, we need to leave now." That was also said by the younger paramedic.
Jo gave Mase a wide-eyed look. She hadn't realized, he'd been recognized.
Mase chuckled at her expression then grimaced in pain. "This will be all over the tabloids by tomorrow." He gave her hand one last squeeze before they wheeled him away.
Jo watched them go. A feeling of urgency overtaking her when she realized she would be parted from Mase. She needed to get to the hospital. Her foot crunched under a piece of glass, and she looked around, surveying her house, really seeing it for the first time. All the front windows were shattered, what was left of her curtains, dangling in a shredded tangle. The front door was splintered, and the top half was completely off its hinges. She turned and noticed her big, overstuffed living-room chair, the chair Chris had been sitting in, had two bullet holes. Her TV, while still functional, had a large crack in its screen.
As she looked at the destruction, her body starting to shake as the ramifications of what could have happened, how much worse it could have been, seeped through her. What if he hadn't been shot in the side? What if the bullet had hit him in the stomach or the chest? What would she have done then? How would she have moved on from something like that?
It was there, standing in the cluster-mess of her front room, cops swarming doing their cop things, Chris staring at her, whole of body instead of lying on the floor bleeding, Charlie curled in the corner of her couch, looking confused by so much activity but unhurt, that she realized life was precious.
Life was fucking precious.
She'd been stupid to waste one single second of that precious life, trying to push Mase away. Stupid to let her fears get in the way of being happy, but no more. She was done being afraid. Mase said he loved her, that she was it for him, and she believed that, had to believe that because the alternative, a life without Mase was unthinkable, unbearable, and quite honestly, unacceptable.
If something happened down the road, hard times or what have you, well, she would fight, because Mase was worth it. She was worth it. They were worth it. She would show him and tell him every damn day how much she loved him and how special he was. She would hold onto him with both hands and never let go just as Mase had done with her. Never let go. Forever.
The room became fuzzy, her eyes losing focus from a fresh batch of tears. With determination, she swiped at her eyes. No more crying. Mase would be fine, she wouldn't have it any other way, and the house was insured. Time to suck this shit up and live life.
She turned to Chris. "Let's get the hell out of here." She needed to get to the hospital to be with her man.
Chapter Twenty-three
Jo sat quietly in the ER waiting room, waiting for Mase to be moved to a private room. Her demeanor was a complete one-eighty from just an hour prior when Gage had found her ranting and raving, trying to find out any information on Mase. Information, that because of Mase's celebrity status, was not forthcoming to someone as insignificant as Jo Welch.
While upon reflection, Jo could understand and even appreciate the hospitals closed-lip policy, at the time, needing to know what had happened with Mase, she'd been less than grateful. Fortunately, Gage arrived before security had been called and with three short phone calls, Gage to Jack, who then called some hospital bigwig, who in turn called the ER, Jo was now first to be given all information.
Gage had then left Cassie with Jo while he took Logan and Charlie to Cassie's aunt. While he was gone, Jack and Alexis arrived followed closely by Sam and Derek, who had made a pit stop on the way to leave Kyle with Cassie's aunt, as well.
Now, the girls sat while the boys paced as they waited for news of Mase. Chris leaned against the wall, arms crossed, staring at his feet. He hadn't said much since they'd arrived at the hospital, and she worried what crazy thoughts ran through his head. She hoped he didn't blame himself for tonight's tragic events. Jo made a mental note to talk to him as soon as things died down.
"What's taking so long?" Jo mumbled, fingering the hem of her shirt. She'd exchanged the bloodied one for a clean one before coming to the hospital, but didn't think to change her jeans and saw the waistband was soaked through with dried blood. She shivered as the memories of the horrific moment when she realized the wetness she felt seeping into her shirt was Mase's blood sped through her head in an endless loop.
"Joanna Welch?"
Jo jumped up when she heard her named called. She spied a pretty blond wearing a set of light-blue scrubs, standing in the large open doorway and quickly made her way over, the whole gang at her back.
"I'm Joanna," Jo said, taking the woman's hand and giving a firm shake.
"Dr. Porter."
Jo snorted in her head. Of course, Mase would end up with the pretty blond doctor. Oh, she couldn't wait to tease him about that. "Very nice to meet you. Is Mase okay?"
"Mr. Connor is fine and on his way to his room. We'll keep him overnight just as a precaution. He lost a lot of blood, but with a few days of rest and barring infection, he should make a speedy recovery."
"Thank you, doctor," Jo said, relief clear in her voice. "Do you know what room he's being taken to?"
"Third floor, but I don't know the room number. Just ask the admitting desk, they'll be able to help you."
"Thank you, again." Jo held out her hand this time, and the doctor shook it.
"You're very welcome. You
're a lucky lady. He couldn't stop talking about you, Angel." Then with a smile and a wink, she turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall.
Jo blushed hotly as she turned and found everyone smiling. She cleared her throat before asking, "Shall we go find Mase?" But secretly, she was smiling inside, too.
*
Mase slowly came awake with a steady electronic peep in his ear and a sharp, sterile scent in his nose. Jo filled his vision as he slowly pried open his heavy lids. The softly glowing overhead light reflected off the shiny highlights of her carelessly draped hair, shielding her face from his view. She sat in a chair, pulled close to his bed, her head resting on the small space between his leg and its edge. Her hand held his fingers, carefully positioned so as not to disturb the inserted IV.
His eyes sought a window and seeing inky blackness through the pane, knew it was late. His tired, fuzzy brain thought back to the last thing he remembered. A nurse, in the ER, injecting his IV with something, "For the pain," she'd said, while he waited to be taken to his room. Well, it worked. He had felt no pain. Nor anything else for that matter.
The door to his room silently came open and a short, plump nurse in bright pink scrubs came into view, smiling as she approached the bed. "You're awake, I see."
Jo's head popped up, and Mase scowled at the nurse for her high-pitched, loud greeting.
"Ooh, someone's a Grumpy Gus," the nurse said, adjusting his IV bag.
He heard Jo giggle. God, he loved that sound. Still scowling he said, "She woke you up."
Jo gave his hand a light squeeze. "I was only dozing. How are you feeling?"
"Groggy," he looked over at the nurse who still fiddled with the equipment then back at Jo, "and apparently a little grumpy."
Jo laughed, stood from her chair, and gave him a kiss.
"I'm not so grumpy anymore," he murmured, against her lips.
"Good," she murmured back.
"I need to take your temp and vitals, Mr. Connor."
Mase growled and with a laugh, Jo sat back in her seat.
"What time is it?" Mase asked around a mouthful of thermometer.