Doug screamed again and the gun clattered to the floor as he slapped his hands over his eyes. Helen kicked the gun through the hole in the wall to the outer room, then ran to Melinda.
Her eyes were closed and the pool of blood on the floor was bigger. “Melinda,” she sobbed. “Melinda, wake up.” She put her hand over the wound on the side of the woman’s head, trying to stop the bleeding, but blood flowed sluggishly between her fingers.
“Helen.” Jamie’s voice, near the door.
“Don’t come in,” she said, her voice breaking. She would not let Linc and Andrea see their mother lying in her own blood. “Take the kids across the street and call the police.”
“Are you okay?” His voice was closer.
“I’m fine. Please, Jamie. Take the kids away. Please.”
The footsteps stopped. He must have figured it out. “Okay,” he said. His voice was cheerful, but she could hear the effort it took. “Looks like someone needs a refill. We’ll take care of that.”
“Thanks, Jamie.”
She turned to look at Doug and found him writhing on the floor. “You blinded me, you whore.”
“Keep your mouth shut, Doug, or I’ll spray you again.”
She turned back to Melinda and put her fingers on her neck. The woman’s pulse beat beneath her fingers. Thready and weak, but Melinda was still alive. “Hang on, Melinda,” she whispered. “Help will be here soon.”
Melinda stirred. “Kids?”
“They’re fine. Jamie has them.”
Melinda exhaled. “Good.” Her breath feathered against Helen’s hand, then she went limp and her fingers uncurled from Helen’s.
Ambulance. Melinda needed an ambulance, and Helen was sitting on the floor like an idiot. She stumbled to her feet, swaying a little as she reached for her phone. Her bloody fingers slipped off the numbers as she tried to press them. Frowning, she looked at her hand. It was covered with blood.
Melinda’s blood.
Her head spun, and she closed her eyes and tried to focus. 911. Three buttons. Easy. The phone slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor. As she picked it up again, she heard sirens in the street.
Jamie had called them. Thank God. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to call. Which was stupid. Why couldn’t she press three numbers?
A police officer ran into the room, looked at the three people on the floor and grabbed the radio off his vest. “We need a couple of buses here,” he barked. “Right now.”
He assessed Doug, who was whimpering on the ground, his hands over his eyes, snot running out of his nose as he rocked back and forth. Then he crouched next to Melinda and put his fingers on her neck. He must have found her pulse, because he turned to Helen and took her by the elbow. “Hold your arm still, Ma’am. The paramedics will be here in a moment.”
What was wrong with him? She was fine. “Melinda,” she said. “He shot her. In the head. She’s still alive.”
“We’ve got her.” He eased Helen against the wall. “Sit here for me, okay?”
“‘Kay.”
The police officer moved to Melinda, smoothing her hair to one side to examine her wound. As he knelt beside her, two paramedics ran into the room. One of them dropped to the ground beside Melinda. The other stepped over to Helen.
“What’s your name, Ma’am?” the officer asked.
“Helen. Helen Brody.”
Are you injured anywhere besides your arm?” he asked as he eased her jacket off her left shoulder.
“Nothing’s wrong with my arm,” Helen said, impatient. “Melinda’s hurt. You need to help her.”
The paramedic cut her jacket away from her arm and folded the material back. “Looks like you were shot,” he said.
“What?” Helen stared at the bleeding gash on her arm. “How…I didn’t feel a thing.” It hurt now that she’d looked at it, though. Hurt like hell.
“Not uncommon,” he said as he cleaned and put a Telfa pad over the wound, then bandaged it. “Adrenaline masks the pain. Don’t worry, you’ll feel it in a moment.” He held her gaze. “I think the bullet just grazed you, but we’ll let the doctor figure it out. I’m going to start an IV, get some pain meds into you and then we’ll get you to the hospital.”
A sharp pain in her hand, then it felt cold. A minute later, her eyes drifted closed. All she could think about was Jamie. She wanted him. But he had to take care of Melinda’s kids.
“Melinda’s kids,” she said, her head suddenly fuzzy and her mouth full of cotton. Pain meds kicking in. “My…Jamie has them. He’s getting them slushies. At the…across the street.”
The paramedic’s hands stilled on her. “Were the kids here when this happened? Were they hurt?”
“No.” She was suddenly cold. Freezing. She couldn’t stop shivering. “Jamie took them away.”
The paramedic glanced behind her. “Hey, Stevenson, the vic’s kids are across the street with someone named Jamie.” He glanced at Helen, and she managed to nod. “Sounds like he got them out before the shooting started.”
“On it,” the cop replied. “I’ll call DCFS.”
The paramedic who’d bandaged her wound eased her against the wall. “You’re going into shock. Don’t move. The ambulance will be here in a moment.”
Helen rested against the wall, dizzy and light-headed. Her arm throbbed, but it didn’t matter. She was content to sit here. Except for Jamie. She wanted Jamie.
He was taking care of Melinda’s kids.
Linc and Andrea’s mother had been shot. Would they be orphans?
“How’s…how is Melinda?” she said, forming the words carefully.
No one answered, so she struggled to stand up. “Tell me how she is.”
The paramedic who’d treated her eased her back to the floor. “We won’t know for sure until we get her to the hospital, but it looks like the bullet grazed her. I think she’ll be fine.”
“Thank God.” Helen slumped against the wall. Her eyelids were suddenly too heavy to hold up. As she drifted in the darkness, she heard another siren in the street.
Helen heard voices, footsteps, felt hands sliding her onto something flat. She bumped along the floor, then was lifted into the air. Moments later she was moving, rocking from side to side, sirens blaring somewhere close.
The moments after they arrived at the hospital were a jumble of movement and noise. The room she was in was too small to hold all the people crowding around her. Suddenly her clothes were gone, and she shivered in the cool air.
“Here you go, honey,” someone said as they laid a warm blanket over her. Helen floated, her eyes too heavy to open, as the bandage was cut away from her arm.
Too many voices, all jumbled together. Her shivering gradually faded, and she was content to drift. Something was missing, though. She frowned.
Jamie. She wanted Jamie.
She couldn’t have him. No. She shook her head, trying to clear away the cobwebs. She couldn’t have him long-term. But she wanted him today. She wanted to hold his hand and hear him say everything was fine. That Melinda’s kids were safe.
“Jamie?” she croaked.
“What, honey?” A woman’s voice, close to her ear.
“Is Jamie here?”
“I’ll check.”
She drifted for a while, then the woman came back. “There’s no Jamie here, Helen. Is there someone we can call for you?”
“My sister,” she said drowsily. “Rose. Rose Donovan.”
“Do you have a number for her?”
Helen struggled to focus, then slowly recited her sister’s phone number.
“You relax, Helen. We’ll have your sister here in no time.”
Rose was coming. That was good.
But she wanted Jamie.
***
The truck’s tires squealed as Jamie turned into the emergency room parking lot. Helen had been here for more than an hour – that was how long it had taken DCFS to come for Andrea and Linc.
He hadn’t begrudged the time to sta
y with the two frightened kids, but now he needed Helen. The paramedics would tell him only that she’d been shot.
He drove into the first spot he saw and ran inside. Skidding to a stop at the triage desk, he said, “Helen Brody. Where is she?”
The nurse’s eyes were cool as she studied him. “Is she in the ER?”
“That’s what the cops told me. The ambulance brought her here.”
“I’ll check for you.”
His foot jiggled and his skin felt too tight as he watched the nurse study her computer screen. “She’s here,” the nurse finally said. “But only family are allowed in the treatment area.”
“I’m family.”
Her unruffled gaze assessed him, as if she could tell he was lying. “And you are…?”
“Her fiance. Jamie Evans.”
The woman’s face relaxed. “She’s been asking for you. Go on back. She’s in treatment room ten.”
“Thank you.”
He had to stop himself from racing down the corridor. Helen was hurt. And she’d been asking for him.
He stopped in front of the cubicle labeled ‘10’ and reached for the curtain, taking a deep breath. Helen was in there. She’d been asking for him. So at least she was conscious. Squaring his shoulders, he edged the curtain aside and stepped into the room.
Helen was lying on the bed, her black hair spread on the pillow, her face too pale. Her eyes were closed and a doctor was bent over her left arm
One of the nurses turned to him. “You are…?”
“Jamie Evans. Helen’s…her fiance.” He didn’t care that he was lying. He wasn’t about to wait in the other room.
The woman smirked as she studied him. “I can see why she keeps talking about you.” Her expression softened. “The doctor is almost finished suturing her arm, but you can stand by her right side, if you like.”
Damn straight he ‘liked’. Edging around the nurse, he reached for Helen’s hand, lying on the blanket. “Hey, babe,” he murmured.
“Jamie?” Her eyes fluttered open and struggled to focus. When she finally recognized him, she smiled. “You came.”
“Of course I came. How are you feeling?”
“Happy.” Her eyes drifted closed. “So happy.”
“Happy you got shot?” He frowned.
“No. Happy you’re here. I wanted you, and they told me you weren’t here.” She frowned. “They’re getting Rose. I love Rose, but I love you more.”
His heart swelled. Thank God they’d given Helen the good drugs. He was pretty sure she wouldn’t have admitted loving him without being drugged.
“I love you, too, Helen.” He curled his fingers around hers, vowing to never let go. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” She smiled at him. “Happy.”
“The paramedics told me that Melinda is going to be fine,” Jamie said, brushing a curl away from her face. “DCFS has Andrea and Linc, and her parents are on their way from Iowa. They’ll watch the kids until she’s out of the hospital. Doug is in Cook County Jail. He’s been charged with attempted murder, assault, stalking and a bunch of other stuff I don’t remember. He’s not going anywhere for a long time.”
Helen sighed, and her shoulders relaxed. “Good. That’s good.”
The doctor stood and motioned for the nurse to bandage Helen’s arm. “You’re the fiance?” he asked.
“Yeah.” It wasn’t the complete truth, but as soon as the drugs were out of Helen’s system, he intended to make it true.
“She’ll be here for a few more hours, then she can go home. But someone needs to stay with her.”
“I’ll be with her.” He held her hand more tightly. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Good. The nurse will give you instructions for wound care and her prescriptions. I’m not going to put her in a room – a lot less paperwork if she stays here until she’s ready to go.”
“Fine.”
“Push the button if she needs anything.” The doctor pointed to a device hooked to the bed rail. It looked like a television remote.
“Will do.” He studied Helen as he spoke. There was a bandage around her arm and an IV in her hand. She looked small and pale in the bed, as if her vibrant personality had been doused by the bullet.
It was the drugs. If it wasn’t for the pain medication, she’d be sitting up in bed and taking charge.
Jamie barely noticed the doctor leave the cubicle, followed by a nurse who gathered the instruments and gauze squares from a small table. The nurse pulled the curtain closed, and he and Helen were alone.
Without letting go of her hand, he pulled a chair closer and sat down. A machine next to her bed beeped at regular intervals, and Helen’s chest rose and fell slowly. Her eyes were closed, but she clung to his hand.
“How do you feel?” he whispered, not sure if she’d fallen asleep.
“Happy.” She squeezed his hand but didn’t open her eyes. “You’re here.”
“Does your arm hurt?”
“Nope. It’s all good.” Her mouth curved, then she lifted their joined hands and kissed his palm.
He wanted to curl his fingers around his palm and hold her kiss there forever. Damn Doug Ashcroft for putting her in this hospital bed. He leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers. “I love you, Helen. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good,” she whispered, her breathing evening out. She was falling asleep.
Jamie relaxed into the chair, his thumb caressing the back of Helen’s hand. Knowing she was okay, he was content to watch her breathe and wait for her to wake up.
He heard footsteps running down the hall outside the door, and figured the nurses and doctors were heading for a different room. Another emergency. Instead, the curtain on Helen’s room was ripped open.
All of the Donovans were there, crowding in the doorway. Rose pushed through the crowd and hurried to Helen’s side. “Is she all right?” Rose breathed.
“Yeah. She needs to stay here for awhile, but they’re not admitting her,” he said without letting go of her hand.
“What happened?”
“Who did it?”
“Did they catch the shooter?
Jamie looked around at her family, all of them wearing identical expressions of fear and anxiety.
Cut to the chase. “It was a close call, but she’s going to be fine.”
Chapter 13
Jamie’s hand tightened on Helen’s. “She was shot. In the arm. Bullet just nicked her. The doctor sutured it up and said she’d be fine.” He scowled. “It was the guy who ran his car into her office. He also shot his ex-wife in the head.”
Rose sucked in a breath. “Is the wife…?”
Jamie softened the scowl he’d given Mac. “It was a graze. According to what Doug said in his statement to the police, Helen shoved the guy just as he was firing his gun.” He clenched his jaw. “The ass…jerk said Melinda wouldn’t have been shot at all if Helen hadn’t shoved him. But seeing as how he shot Helen, too, I don’t think anyone’s going to believe him.”
He smiled grimly. “Helen kicked him in the knee with her boot as he was firing at her. Seems fitting, since it was his fault she had to wear the boot in the first place. Then she pepper-sprayed him.”
Connor’s shoulders relaxed. “Even when we were kids, we all knew not to mess with Helen.”
The rest of the Donovans exhaled, and some of the anxiety leached out of their expressions. Then Quinn stepped forward.
“They told us her fiance was with her. Helen keeping something from us?”
“It was the only way they’d let me back here.” Jamie held the other man’s gaze. Quinn could suck it if he thought Jamie was going to apologize. Or back down.
Mac’s eyes narrowed, but Quinn just studied Jamie for a moment. Then he nodded. “Got it.” Quinn glanced at his siblings, then his mother. “Mind if we wait in here until she wakes up?”
“Of course not. I’m sure she’ll want you here.”
He wasn’t letting go of Helen’s ha
nd, though. Not today, not tomorrow. He was never letting her go.
***
It was past nine in the evening, already dark, as Helen limped slowly up her stairs, Jamie’s arm around her waist. He fitted her key in the lock and pushed her door open, and she shuddered with relief. Finally back home.
Jamie eased her onto the couch and lifted her now boot-free right foot onto a pillow he set on the cocktail table. Then he put two more pillows beneath her left arm. “You comfortable?” he asked.
“Yeah.” She rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. “None of them followed us home, did they?”
“You’re safe.”
She heard the smile in Jamie’s voice and opened her eyes. “I love my family. I really do. But they were all…hovering. I don’t like people to hover.”
“They were worried about you, babe.”
Her eyes narrowed. “‘Babe’?”
He shrugged one shoulder, clearly unrepentant. “It slipped out.”
No one had ever called her ‘babe’ before. She shouldn’t like it. The nickname was sexist. But when Jamie said it, all she heard was affection. Caring.
Something else she wouldn’t name.
“Come sit down.” She patted the couch. When Jamie eased down next to her, he curled his arm around her shoulders and sat as close as he could. Thighs, arms, sides – they touched everywhere.
“Melinda’s parents have the kids, right?” She was pretty sure she’d already asked Jamie that, more than once, but she needed to be sure.
“Yeah. They’re staying at Melinda’s house. Last I heard, she’s going home tomorrow. They wanted to make sure she didn’t have a concussion after hitting her head when she fell.”
“And Doug is in jail.”
“Locked up tight. No bail. He admitted running the car into your office, too.”
Helen sighed and leaned her head on Jamie’s shoulder. He tightened his arm around her. “Thank you, Jamie.”
“For what?” He sounded cautious.
“For everything. For taking the kids across the street, and taking care of them after Melinda was shot. For coming to the hospital and staying there with me. For bringing me home. What would I have done without you?”
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