Chapter 89
WRITER'S POV
"You're crying like you're the one who got shot. Shouldn't I be the one teasing you, Vera Santos?"
Vera froze. That voice, it couldn't be. Jack was supposed to be sleeping, just like the doctor said. But there was no denying it. The voice she heard was his.
She looked down at him and saw his eyes open. They were a little tired and hazy, but they still sparkled like sunshine at dawn. He was awake!
"You didn’t really think I’d die while you're still alive, did you?" Jack said in a low, raspy voice. Then he added, even softer, "I still have a lot to finish. And I want to keep doing that... forever."
Vera stared at him, not quite sure what he meant. Her brows furrowed as she blinked, trying to catch up to his words. Then it clicked, and she gasped.
"You scared me, Jack!" she said, standing to kiss his forehead.
"I’m sorry, love. But if you kiss me on the lips, I promise I’ll feel even better," he said with a playful grin.
She leaned down to grant his wish, but a soft knock interrupted them. A nurse walked in, clearing her throat as she stepped closer.
"You've overstayed, Miss Santos. And from what I can tell, Mr. Jackson should avoid any activities that might put pressure on his wound, including sex," the nurse said firmly, giving Vera a sharp look.
"You can’t be serious," Jack said, clearly upset.
"Oh, I’m dead serious. And not just for a few days, months. If you want to stay alive, you better follow my instructions. Consider yourself lucky."
"Unless she's the one in control," Jack mumbled, winking. "She can ride—"
Vera quickly covered his mouth. How could he be joking like this with a nurse in the room?
"Don’t worry," Vera said with a sweet smile, "I’ll make sure he behaves and doesn’t do anything to risk his health. But can I kiss him, at least?"
The nurse rolled her eyes and muttered, "Don’t waste my time."
Vera grinned and planted a deep kiss on Jack’s lips. He tried lifting his hand to pull her closer but winced from the pain.
"Sorry," she whispered. "I love you, Jack."
"I love you too, baby," he replied.
The nurse ushered Vera out firmly, and in the hallway, she met a man waiting for her.
"Miss Santos? I’m Harry. Please come with me," he said. "You’re needed for questioning."
Her mind immediately went to Timothy. She looked around anxiously.
"Your son is safe," another officer explained as they walked. "He’s resting in the children’s center. He was in shock earlier, so they gave him a bed."
Vera breathed a small sigh of relief.
Once seated in the back of a police car, a man stepped in to join her. He introduced himself.
"Detective William Graham. I’m taking over this case since the previous investigator is still in the hospital."
She nodded, unsure of what to say.
"Mr. Kenneth George has been arrested. One of his men gave him up. But we need your help to make the charges stick," Graham explained. "Your testimony matters. He’s powerful and slippery. We need your side of the story."
Vera listened quietly, heart pounding.
"He has no respect for women. He sees them as disposable playthings. That mindset needs to be destroyed and your voice can help us do that," Graham added.
The words hit her like a punch to the stomach.
Her mind drifted back to her teenage years. The pain came rushing in, and tears fell freely down her cheeks.
Her so-called mother. The man she chose over her own daughter. The loneliness in foster homes. The cruel families who treated her like trash.
She remembered being locked inside while others went to prom. Cleaning floors instead of dancing in heels. Watching the daughters of her masters sabotage her out of jealousy.
The boys only wanted one thing. They didn’t care about her feelings. She was a game to them. Something to pass around, not a human being with dreams and pain.
She missed out on so much. Not just the joys of childhood, but the safety, the love, the guidance. She never even had a chance to be naive, just vulnerable.
And it all started with two people who should have protected her but instead made her feel worthless and exposed to all manner of danger.
But Jack changed all that.
He gave her more than words. He gave her safety. He gave her peace. He made her feel seen and loved. Even before he said "I love you," she already felt it in the way he held her, looked at her, and stood by her.
Jack made her believe she mattered. That she could be strong. That her past didn’t define her.
He would take a hundred bullets if it meant keeping her safe. But she prayed he would never have to prove that again.
She sniffled. "And then, there's my son. He took him from me..."
Her voice cracked. She covered her face with both hands.
Detective Graham handed her a neatly folded handkerchief.
"Thank you," she said, accepting it. "I'm sorry... I just hate feeling like this."
"You'll be okay, Miss Santos," he said gently.
"I hope so. I just want my son back. He's all I have left from those dark days," she said, eyes pleading with him to understand.
He gave her a soft nod. She handed him back the handkerchief and stepped out of the car.
She had to see Timothy.
The one piece of light left from a life full of darkness.