Chapter 88
VERA’S POV
Timothy and I were slowly adjusting to the silence just when the gunshots stopped. But it didn’t last. Within seconds, it felt like everyone was reloading because the gunfire started again, louder and more terrifying.
That was when Jack called me back.
I picked up, but I couldn’t speak. My throat was dry with fear. My arms tightened around Timothy, and before I could say anything, he had already ended the call.
When I finally calmed Tim down a bit, I tried calling Jack again, but his line was busy. That made me panic even more. What was going on out there?
I bit down on my lower lip to stop myself from screaming. I couldn’t let fear win. I had to stay strong, for Tim.
“Where’s my daddy?!” he cried, clinging to me tightly.
I didn’t blame him. The gunshots were too loud, too close. It felt like they were firing right in the room. The whole building shook, and I could hear footsteps and shouting above us.
“He’ll come to us soon, Tim,” I whispered, holding him close.
But then, it got worse. The noise outside our door became louder and closer. My heart dropped. It felt like the attackers had finally broken in.
Without wasting time, I grabbed Timothy and rushed into the bathroom. I locked the door behind us. That was the only place I could think of that might be safe.
“Vera!”
I froze.
That voice, I knew that voice.
It was Jack.
“Jack!” I cried, unlocking the door immediately.
He stumbled into the room and collapsed in front of me.
“Thank God I made it,” he groaned before passing out.
I fell to the floor beside him, not caring about anything else. I lifted his head and rested it on my lap. That was when I noticed the blood. He had been shot, right in the stomach.
His eyes were shut, but his hand moved, gripping my arm. He was still holding on.
Timothy was frozen in place, too shocked to move or say a word.
Tears streamed down my face. I didn’t try to stop them.
Moments later, the police stormed in. They carefully lifted Jack and rushed him outside to an ambulance that was already waiting.
I followed them, refusing to be left behind. I demanded to ride in the ambulance with Jack.
Everything after that happened so fast it felt like a blur, the drive to the hospital, wheeling him into surgery, the waiting… all of it.
During that time, I didn’t think about anything else. Not Timothy. Not the danger. Not the attackers. My whole mind was on Jack.
A doctor came out hours later and tried to convince me to go and get some rest. He said Jack was going to be okay.
“I need to see him first,” I said, barely holding myself together. “Please, I just want to see him.”
The doctor looked at me, then finally nodded. “Two minutes, Miss Santos. That’s all. The nurse in charge won’t allow any more time. He’s asleep and probably won’t even notice you were there.”
I was grateful it wasn’t Jack’s usual doctor, because I knew that one wouldn’t have let me anywhere near the room. He was too strict, and probably would’ve had me locked in a room to keep me calm.
“Thank you,” I whispered, already moving down the hallway.
When I walked into the room and saw Jack lying there, fear gripped me like a vice. He was so pale, like someone had drained all the blood from his body.
Seeing him like that reminded me of his past. We had all been lucky he survived the coma once. But now? Now it felt like we were pushing our luck.
He was wearing a light blue hospital gown, rolled up enough to reveal the carefully bandaged wound on his stomach. The rest of his lower body was likely bare under the hospital sheet.
Even his breathing looked slow and painful.
I pulled a chair close to his bed and sat down. I reached out and took his cold hand, bringing it to my lips and kissing it gently.
“Look at you, Jackson Taylor,” I said softly. “You couldn’t even take one bullet without collapsing. Shame on you.”
My voice cracked as I spoke. I wiped my nose on my sleeve, but the tears didn’t stop. They kept coming, flooding down my cheeks.
I couldn’t talk anymore. My emotions were all over the place. My throat hurt from holding back the sobs.
So I gave in. I covered my face and cried. Hard.
It had been so long since I let myself cry like that. I didn’t care what anyone thought. I didn’t care about anything anymore except the man lying in front of me.
He had saved us, again. And this time, he had almost died doing it.
If I could take that bullet for him, I would.
I would do anything to keep him safe. Always.