Surgery. If anything happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. It was her past, her life that came back to haunt. He should never have been hurt. Ken wanted her dead, not him. Her. She began crying before they even reached the waiting area. Imagining a life without her one true love made her crazy.
“Grace.” Mr. Wagner pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. “Don’t you dare blame yourself.”
She looked up into his warm, tender eyes. “How could you know?”
“I know you too well, darlin’. Scot would die for you, whether you approved or not.”
“Die?” She pulled back, on the verge of turning feral.
“Now, now. He’s in surgery. He’ll do just fine.”
“But you can’t know that. Anything could happen. What if he—”
Trevor stood and joined them. “He’s going to be fine, and that’s that.”
His authoritative tone reassured her. Exactly what she needed when she felt so lost and out of control.
They sat for hours in the hard plastic seats. Grace refused water, coffee, and soft drinks. How could she drink when Scot could be dying? She waited in suspended animation, flipping through memories she wanted to relive, not mourn.
“Mr. Wagner.” A male doctor in blue scrubs and matching hairnet appeared from behind the automatic doors. Everyone stood.
“How’s my son doing, Doc?”
“He’s in recovery now. A little confused, but you can see him if you want. Only two visitors at a time, though. He’ll need his rest.”
Mr. Wagner reached for Grace’s hand. Everything he held inside transmitted to her through the firmness of his grip. The unmovable mountain feared for his son’s health. He loved him and didn’t want to lose the best thing in his life. They shared a glance before following the doctor through the doors.
“I’ll leave you three alone,” said the doctor, slipping out of the room with Scot’s clipboard.
Scot lay asleep like an angel. His hair brushed off his face, blankets tucked up under his arms. An IV came out of his arm, but nothing like the menagerie of tubes and life support she expected to find.
“How’s he doing?” asked Trevor, sneaking in the room. Jenna followed.
“Hey, you two aren’t supposed to be here,” Grace snapped.
“So sue us.”
Scot began to open his eyes and groan, shifting restlessly in the bed.
“Boy’s high as a kite,” Mr. Wagner said with an amused smile.
“Scot. Can you hear me?” Grace leaned over the side of the bed, ran her hand through his hair, and kissed his forehead.
“Mmmm. Grace,” he mumbled, half asleep.
“This should be interesting,” Jenna teased.
Grace swatted the air.
“Too bad for him. I spoke with the doctor. Looks like he’ll be out of commission for a while.”
Oh God. His injuries must be severe. It didn’t matter to Grace, though. As long as he remained alive, she’d take him in any way, shape, or form.
Grace cried into Scot’s shoulder, tremors racking her.
“Grace. I’m just pulling your leg.”
She turned to Trevor, her eyes blurry. “What do you mean?”
“I mean he’ll be out of commission…in the bedroom. Pansy got shot in the ass, not the heart. He’ll be out in two days.”
Mr. Wagner and Jenna held back their snickers for Grace’s sake.
“Shot in the ass?”
Trevor nodded to confirm. A weight lifted from her shoulders, and a binding removed from her chest. She felt light and bubbly, awash with relief. Grace shook Scot’s shoulders with both hands.
He groggily opened his blue eyes and offered a lopsided smile.
“Hey, Trev. What were you saying about being out of commission?” Scot mumbled.
“Well, if you need me to take care of Grace, just let me know.” Trevor grinned, patting his friend’s arm playfully.
“I’ll manage.”
Jenna weaseled her way into their midst. “So, what’s the verdict, Grace? This should be your call since I’m guessing you’ll want to nurse him back to health.”
Mr. Wagner, Jenna, Trevor, and Scot all faced her, awaiting her reply.
She thought about it, for two seconds. “Well, we’ll have to put him to bed as soon as he gets home. I don’t want anyone disturbing him.” Picturing him lying out, helpless in her bed, made her body thrum with anticipation. She could already taste him. Maybe some handcuffs would come in useful.
Trevor continued to taunt Scot mercilessly. “What about you, Grace? Might get lonely with him flat on his back for so long.”
“Trev, he got shot in the ass.” She leaned over and whispered into Scot’s ear, “I’m assuming everything else is in working order.”
Scot nodded.
“Good. Don’t worry about your recovery then. I have a very wicked imagination.” Grace kissed his lips. The kiss held the promise of forever.
THE END
www.staceyespino.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Stacey Espino resides in beautiful Ontario, Canada, where she is busy raising her five school-aged children. She loves being a Canadian, but could do without the brutal winters.
When she’s not escaping into the romantic settings she creates on her laptop, she’s reading one of the many books threatening to overtake her bedroom.
Also by Stacey Espino
Immortal Love 1: Fearless Desires
Available at
BOOKSTRAND.COM
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Saving Grace Page 17
