by Thorn, Ava
Suddenly his phone began to ring shrilly. “McBride,” he answered.
“Shane!” said a scared voice, one Shane almost didn’t recognize because it was so hysterically
“Farrah? What wrong?”
“Jasmine is gone! Shay was here crying. Oh God, Jasmine is gone!” Farrah sobbed.
Shane could hear his daughter’s shrills. Sucking in a deep breath as his vision became blurry. “Farrah I’m sending officers over there.”
Farrah sobbed hard. “There is blood in the kitchen, it’s a mess.” Her voice quivered and shook.
“Farrah, listen to me. I’m going to find Jazz. Everything will be okay.” Shane brought the car to a screeching halt. All the exit routes of the ranch were sealed off by uniforms, except the new route that the construction crew was building the new house at. Turning the truck around he sped down the dirt road, hoping he could catch up to Jasmine.
It’s like someone was suffocating him as a long and slow shiver ran up his spine. He mentally shook himself; he had to be strong for Jasmine. Picking up the phone, he pressed a button on speed dial.
“Dad it’s me, are you packing today?” Shane asked. He knew it was a stupid question, his father always carried his conceal weapon wherever he went.
“Always,” his father replied.
“Jasmine’s in trouble and I need your help.” He told his father about Gil Novik and how he kidnapped Jasmine. “You might be able to slow him down.”
“I got you son, you know I don’t mind putting a cap up his ass,” Gerald McBride said before hanging up.
***
Jasmine woke up to total darkness. Her body felt like it was on fire. She bit down on her lower lip as a searing pain kept shooting throughout her body. She groaned as she moved in the cramped space. Oh God, she was in the trunk of a car.
“Please let me go,” she screamed above the noise of the engine. She hit the truck repeatedly to no avail.
Think Jasmine. She closed her eyes and thought about her father. When she was leaving for college, he made her go through all these scenarios. If you ever find yourself back in the trunk of a car.
She could hear her father’s baritone voice in her ears.
“Get in the back of the trunk,” her father said.
“Dad really, I don’t need to know this,” Jasmine said, beginning to walk away from him
“Get your ass back here and get into the trunk,” Reginald St. Clair said with more boom in his voice. It wasn’t asking her, he was telling her.
Begrudgingly she got into the truck as her father closed the lid. “It’s dark in here,” she whined.
“Listen here Jasmine the first few minutes will save your life,” her father said, ignoring her. “Kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy.
“Dad, think about the cost of the damages,” Jasmine said.
“I don’t care about something that can be replaced but you can’t, now show me you can do it,” her father instructed.
Jasmine did as her father taught her many years ago. She punched out the first taillight and then the second with her fist. She knew by the pain traveling up she shoulders she’d fractured her hand. Moaning in pain, she peered out the window; by the way of things that were passing she could tell they were still on the ranch.
Gunfire broke out causing the car to swerve. She screamed when she felt the car propel into another automobile. She hit her head hard on something and everything went dark.
***
Shane pulled his car to the side where the other car had flipped three times before landing in a ditch. Workers from the nearby construction site ran to assist in the wreckage. His heart was pounding as he screamed Jasmine’s name over and over again. He checked the car and saw the suspect gurgling blood. He checked the back seat and there was no sign of Jasmine.
“Pop open the trunk,” he shouted to no one in particular.
He cried as he pulled her bloody, bruised body from the trunk of the car. “Call and ask for an air ambulance.”
Laying her down in a grassy area. “Baby,” he said softly putting pressure on a deep cut on her leg.
Her eyes opened slowly and looking up at the sky until they rested on his face. “Shane.” Her voice barely audible. “Are…you…okay?”
He laughed and nodded his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
Her lips tugged in the corner. But then she was overcome with violent coughs. Once they subsided she tried to talk again. “Where is Shay?” Her eyes began to close.
“Jasmine! Stay with me baby, keep looking at me,” he yelled over the sound of Trauma One landing in the field.
Her eyes opened a tiny bit more and they searched for Shane. “Shane…” she moaned.
“Listen to me, baby, you’re going to be fine,” he said repeatedly to her as the paramedics rushed over to them before her eyes closed again.
***
Four Days Later
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
What was that noise? Jasmine woke up in the midst of a coughing fit. She adjusted to the bright light slipping in between the white blinds. She could feel the IV that was impaled in her arm, turning her head she stared at fluid dripping in the small clear tube. She was in the hospital. But how?
Then it all came crashing back to her. She was able to recall a few things. Gil Novik was her stalker. Being nearly strangled to death and trapped in the trunk of a car.
“Baby, you’re awake,” a voice crooned softly.
She tried to turn her head to the sound of that sensual southern voice she loved so much. The searing pain that shot from her fingers to her shoulder caused her to yelp.
Within a second Shane was at her side, in her line of vision. He appeared restless with dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin.
“Where is Shay?” she asked.
“Baby, she is staying with Farrah and Austin and my mother along with yours are fussing over our little princess,” he laughed kissing her on the lips. “Don’t try to move, your wrist is fractured along with your collarbone.”
Jasmine just stared at him. “You look like shit.”
Shane let out a nervous laughter. “Well, thank you darling.”
“I’m serious.” She touched the side of his hand. “You should go home.”
“Sorry, can’t do that kiddo.” He tussled her hair and pressed the call button. “You’re stuck with me.”
Jasmine could feel a panic rising in her chest. “Where is he?”
“Dead,” Shane replied, not wanting to talk about it any further. He pressed the call button repeatedly.
Jasmine nodded her head. He wasn’t able to hurt her again. Jasmine pressed her lips together; she reached out to grab his hand. “I’m fine.”
“Jazz.” He pushed the hair back off her forehead. “Your body is bruised, you have nine stitches, and a fractured vertebrate.”
She looked up at the ceiling as Shane told her about the extent of her injuries. “But I’m alive and I get to be here with you and our daughter.”
“Those doctors are going to come in here and tell you that…that you will have to learn to walk again and I have faith in that.”
Jasmine could see that Shane was trying to keep his composure. “I’m okay.” She squeezed his hand.
“I know, but I would still love you the same.” He kissed her.
“Hey, I’m supposed to be the one falling apart,” she teased, reaching up and wiping his tears from his face. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
“Lay with me, please.”
“Anything for you,” Shane said, looking in her eyes, trying not to stare at her battered, cut and bruised face. Gingerly he laid next to her making sure not to hurt her.
They laid there listening to each other breathing.
“Have you been home?” she asked.
“When I could.” Shane planted a kiss on her cheek. “You been out of it for a
few days, our families kept my seat when I went home.”
The door opened to the room and a tall, middle-aged man walked into the room carrying a clipboard. “Hello, Ms. St. Clair,” he said, standing at the foot of her bed.
Shane stood up quickly and greeted the doctor with a handshake. “She already knows about the fractured vertebrate.”
“Jasmine, you were in a car accident. You broke your pelvis, ribs and fractured your wrist,” he said grimly. “I’m optimist that you will make a full recovery with intensive physical therapy, you should be walking around in no time.”
She laid on her back listening the information the doctor was laying on her as Shane watched her like a hawk for any sign of discomfort. “When do I leave?” she asked the doctor.
“You’re going to need full-time care,” Dr. Daniels said.
“It’s taken care of,” Shane said quickly, he stood there at her bedside holding her hand.
“Let’s play it by ear,” he said, before his beeper buzzed. “I’ll check on you before I leave.”
“I can’t allow you to take care of me,” Jasmine said when the doctor left out the room. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
Kneeling down so his eyes looked directly in her, he intertwined their fingers together. “Jasmine Bly St. Clair you could never be a burden.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “A relationship is about give and take.”
“I’m in pain,” she grimaced.
“I’ll get a nurse.” He squeezed her hand before going to find a nurse.
Jasmine didn’t want Shane to have to deal with her baggage of learning to walk again. He cared for Sarah when she was sick. Then there was a fear creeping in the back of her head that it would be too much for him to bear and eventually Shane would run for the hills.
“What are you thinking about?” Shane asked, paying attention to her carefully.
“I can’t allow you to take care of me,” she said. “You should leave now…I’m giving you an out.”
Shane sat down on the side of the bed. “Why would I want an out of this relationship?”
“Because…because…you shouldn’t have to deal with this,” she stammered over her words.
“Jazz, I love you. I accept you exactly for the way you are right here at this moment. What is love without conflict? Love is about wanting and working to over situations together.”
“Just like now,” she sighed.
“Yes! You don’t leave when something goes wrong. It’s about being there for the good and the bad. We will work through this together,” he replied.
Jasmine felt like an idiot. In all her previously puppy love relationships her significant others would leave when the going got tough. When she graduated from college, her boyfriend of a year left her when she broke her leg. The idea of having someone wanting to hang around and to help her was surprisingly uplifting. It also showed her that she didn’t have a real idea of what a meaningful relationship was all about.
“I’m ready for this rocky road ahead,” she said.
He put his hand in front of her. “We’re in this together,” he said.
She hesitantly placed her hand onto his. “Together.”
“I think we should say team McBride on the count of three.”
“She is not a McBride,” someone spat from the doorway.
They both told around to the sound of Benjamin's voice standing in the threshold of the room holding a bouquet of daisies.
“She can be,” Shane replied, giving Jasmine a wink.
Benjamin mumbled something under his breath, as he walked over to Jasmine and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, over my dead body,” he said, lifting his head up looking Shane dead in the eyes. “But it could be over your dead body.”
“What happened to letting bygones be bygones?” Jasmine said quickly, hoping to de-escalate the situation between the two men. Neither one of them were backing down. “Where is that nurse with that pain medicine?”
Both Benjamin and Shane nearly pushed each other down as they scrambled to the door to request pain medicine for Jasmine. “I got it,” Shane said, leaving Jasmine and her brother alone.
“This is awkward.” She self-consciously ran her finger through her unkempt her. “You are my brother and I love you.”
“I love you too.”
She snorted, covering her face. “It’s funny how you don’t want another man to hurt me, but it’s okay for you to.” She uncovered her face and looked at him. “When you brought Stacy home I didn’t like her, I thought you were too good for her but I respected your choices.”
“It’s not that simple! He is my best friend!” Benjamin shouted, causing Jasmine to flinch.
She tried really hard to choose her next words carefully. “Then it should be easy…Shane is someone you know and respect. And don’t give me that bullshit it’s about race.”
“Stop working yourself up,” he said, watching the erratic beat of her heart beep.
“Really, everyone in this fucking great family think they know what I need in my life.” Her voice rose. She was irritated now. “After twenty-five years you don’t know how I am…I have been a good sister.”
“Then…why him?”
“Because I love him!” she screamed at him. “I tried to put my heart aside, and attempted to use my head to figure out why I’m in love with him.”
“Why?”
“Do you remember what you told me about a good man?” she asked softly. “You told me to watch how a man interacts with others. Shane is a man who cares, that’s why I fell in love with him those many years ago.”
“I didn’t say it for you to fuck my best friend and partner.”
Benjamin words were like a slap in the face. Jasmine knew whatever she said to her elder brother he wouldn’t understand her or the love she had for Shane. “I choose to love him. I choose to fall carelessly in love with him to build this life with him. I’ve chosen a man who sees me beautiful at my worst.”
“I didn’t come to argue with my sister who is in a hospital bed.” Benjamin ran his hand down his face.
“No, you just came here to tell me you think I can do better,” she spat.
“Jazzy, calm down.”
“I just can’t do this anymore,” she muttered, trying to her hide grimace. “I’m not going to waste precious emotional and physical time on this behavior. What happened to you guys wanting a caring and supportive man for me?”
“Just not him,” Benjamin replied.
“Same way as Stacy wasn’t for you.”
Benjamin started to say something only to close his mouth. All he could do was sigh. “Don’t start.”
“Nope, you started it and I’m going to finish it…When you proposed to Stacy, Mama and Daddy didn’t like her.” Jasmine smiled as she dropped the bombshell onto Benjamin. “I was the one who told your future wife that Momma liked her and she had nothing to worry about.”
“And why didn’t they like her?”
“Ask them.” She leaned her head back on the pillow and turned to look out the window, dismissing her brother.
“I still love you, Jazzy,” Benjamin mumbled, as leaned down and kissed her cheek.
Jasmine didn’t need someone to tell her that loving her family is also about hating them sometimes. But she knew that nobody was going to love her like they did. “Love you too”
Chapter Twelve
Jasmine sat in her wheelchair gazing down at her baby in her arms, those green eyes looking intently at her. Those tiny fingers were wrapped around her pinky and a smile formed on her lips.
A month had passed since she was discharged from the hospital. Every day when she woke up, it was an emotional roller coaster for her. Sometimes the pain was so unbearable she wanted to quit. But every day Shane told her that ‘giving up,’ wasn’t in her vocabulary.
During her ordeal, she got to see Shane in a new limelight. He was her superman. There was nothing that he wouldn’t do for her.
“Thanks,” she s
aid, after he helped put her shoes on.
“There is no other place I would want to be,” he replied.
Shane was more than a pretty face Texas Ranger. He provided a generous and considerate act to become her full-time caregiver. He has little time to himself as he tended to her and Shay’s needs. Shane didn’t even have a moment to himself. What amazed her about him was that he didn’t complain, he took everything with a grain of salt.
“I don’t know if I can walk again,” she said, looking at her legs that hurt every time she moved them.
“You will.” He moved a lock of hair out her face.
“What if you fall out of love with me because I can’t walk?”
Shane’s lips slowly tugged into a smile. “I fall in love with you every day, your strength and courage is amazing.” He took Shay from her arms. “A.J. will be here in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” she sighed. Like clockwork, at twelve o’clock in the afternoon a small, green Ford truck pulled up in the driveway. A.J. Jacobs, a tall man in his mid-thirties. She studied him as he stepped out his truck, during their first few therapy sessions he told her how he played pro football before succumbing a career ending injury. A.J. was a handsome man with sparkling blue eyes and tanned for being kissed by the Texas hot sun. The short-sleeved polo shirt and khakis shorts showed off his athletic physique. She noticed when A.J. smiled it never reached his eyes.
“I got it,” Jasmine said, when the doorbell sounded. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he said in a southern accent that could give Shane, Austin and Hank a run for their money. “Are you ready to start working?”
Jasmine nodded and wheeled her chair to the outside near poolside.
He placed the walker in front of her and knelt down to eye level. “You can’t push yourself today,” he warned. “You’re still recovering.”
She nodded again and set the wheelchair’s brakes.
“Remember if you get tired, you have to tell me, Jasmine. I don’t want to prolong your recovery time, okay.”