“Mary, you’re right. I’m not good enough. I’m weak, and I loved my whores.” He glanced at Sarah, whose eyes flared open. “But not anymore. The accident changed me. I’m different now.”
“You’re lying. I know you’re lying.” She reached into her back pocket and threw his notebook at his feet.
It was her. She’d trashed Sarah’s apartment in an act of revenge. Finding his notebook was likely an unplanned bonus for Mary.
Mary produced a pair of handcuffs. “Put those on your little whore.”
Shit. The situation was going from bad to worse, and despite how disappointed he felt about Sarah, he really cared about her. There was absolutely no way he could allow this crazy woman to harm her.
“Mary,” he said, “I know what you read in that book, but—”
Mary cocked the gun. “Do it! Now!” she screamed.
“Okay,” he said with a fake smile. “I’ll do it, sweetheart. Anything to make you happy.” He grabbed the handcuffs from the floor and walked over to Sarah. “Hold out your wrists,” he said and then mouthed, I’m sorry.
“Put them on tight behind her back!” Mary barked.
Sarah turned for him, seeming more annoyed than afraid. Yep. A regular day at the office.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered from behind in Sarah’s ear, making the cuffs as tight as possible without hurting her.
“Okay, now what, Mary?” he asked.
Mary’s hand began to shake.
Oh fuck. She’s really going to shoot me.
“You don’t have to do this, Mary honey,” Sarah said, with a friendly tone. “Why don’t you put the gun down, and I’ll make you a cup of coffee?”
“Better yet,” Colt offered, “we can go out. I’ll buy you a cup—like a date.”
Mary now had conflict written all over her face. He was getting through to her.
“Come on, Mary,” he said. “You seem like a really sweet lady. Let’s just—”
“I can’t.” Mary began pulling at her hair with her free hand. “He said I have to do it. There’s no other way.”
“Who, Mary? Who said?” Colt asked.
Mary pointed the gun right at Colt and fired.
Holy shit! The loud crack of the gun almost split Sarah’s eardrums as she watched Colt fall to the floor like a scene from a horror film. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening.
But it was.
“You fucking bitch!” With her hands behind her back, Sarah rushed toward Mary, who stood staring down at Colt, a look of shock on her face.
Sarah bodychecked the woman, who went flying back, landing flat on her ass with the gun still stuck in her hand. Sarah had to get it away. She kicked Mary as hard as she could in the rib cage and arm, hoping the impact would jar the weapon from her grip.
It did not.
Mary pointed the gun at Sarah and pull the trigger. The burning pain ripped through her stomach.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Oh God. Oh God. The pain. Sarah lost consciousness, but it couldn’t have been for very long because the puddle of blood around Colt was only about the size of a dinner plate. But it was growing. Fast. Spreading across her blond wood floor and running in lines along the seams of the planks.
No, no, no. Panicked and disoriented, Sarah’s eyes swept the room for Mary. Thank fuck. She was gone.
Sarah tried to sit up, but the burning in her stomach, the agony wouldn’t allow it.
She looked down at her blood-soaked T-shirt, unsure of what to do. Her hands were handcuffed behind her back. She couldn’t put pressure on the wound, she couldn’t get up and yell for yelp, she couldn’t dial 911.
Colt groaned on the floor only a few feet away.
“Colt? Colt? Can you hear me? You have to call for help.”
“Fuck…” he groaned. “Fuck…she shot me.”
“I know, Colt. I know it hurts, but you have to do it. I can’t get up.”
Colt looked at her, his eyes glazed over. “She shot you, too?” There was a bitter anger in his low voice.
“Yes. Hurry, Colt.” If they didn’t get help, they would both bleed to death. At best they had minutes.
Flat on his back, Colt managed to roll to his side. Sarah could see the giant hole in his shoulder above his heart, running with blood. He managed to get his right hand into his jeans pocket and slide it out. “Fuck.” He threw his head back for a moment, panting hard. “I can’t remember my code.”
Sarah stared at him, her brain racing. “You don’t need it. Hit the emergency button.”
Wincing, he nodded and held the phone to his face, blinking and straining to focus on the screen. “Got it.” He put the phone to his ear. It didn’t take more than a moment for him to say the words we’ve been shot. He even remembered her address. “Yes, the shooter is gone,” he mumbled to the person on the phone. “Her name was Mary.” He listened. “Thank you.” He dropped his hand with the phone in it and stared up at the ceiling, his breathing fast yet labored. Still, everything moved in slow motion, a blurry dream.
We have to stay awake. We have to. The pain was so intense, Sarah could feel her body wanting to shut down.
“Colt? If we get through this, you owe me an autographed poster. I want the one where you’re shirtless.” She remembered seeing it once at a Walmart. Right next to a One Direction poster on those racks that reminded her of the things they used for hanging rugs at the carpet store. She also remembered thinking how if she was sixteen, she would paper her room with pictures of Colt Young. He was that beautiful.
Colt chuckled weakly. “If you don’t die on me, you can have anything you like, Sarah.”
“Awesome,” she grumbled. “I think I want your leather pants.” She sighed. “You look so sexy in them.”
“Still seeing me as a piece of meat?” A weak smile flickered across his parted lips.
“Yes. Always and forever. My meat,” she mumbled. “My Colt.”
A silent moment passed, and she wondered how much longer she had. The wetness beneath her felt warm and cold at the same time. Fresh blood cooling.
“I’m sorry I didn’t sleep with you again, Sarah.”
“Me too.” Now that she was dying, she suddenly regretted the fact that her circumstances—their circumstances—had gotten in the way of ever having a relationship. She and Colt had chemistry. And it was real. But so were the consequences of dating. Why couldn’t things have been different? Why couldn’t he have walked into someone else’s courtroom?
I guess none of that matters now.
“I’m sorry for what I said, Colt. I think you’re wonderful. Intense, talented, smart, and wonderful. And I’d gladly fuck you for your big brain.”
“I knew it. No woman can resist my giant head. Score a point for me,” he whispered.
“Yes. Point for you.” Oh, God. Oh, God. The pain and cramping worsened, feeling like her own body was panicking and unsure what to do. Fight, relax, or let go.
He mumbled softly, “Then you owe me a date. If I live.”
How could this have happened? How? “You can’t die, Colt. Too many people would be heartbroken without you in the world. Me included.”
“I am pretty awesome.”
She grinned, unable to laugh. “Sing. Something to keep me awake.” And keep himself awake, too.
“I can’t…it hurts too much…”
“Stop whining and sing.”
“You’re so bossy,” he muttered.
“You better get used to it. Because if we get through this, we are going on that date.” Hell, the whole world would now know they knew each other.
“I think I’d like that.” With a breathy voice, Colt started whispering a song. Sarah could hardly hear, but she realized what it was.
There was once a judge named Sarah, who was fierce and smart, I am told…
“Oh no. Please stop.” She was in so much pain. “It hurts to laugh.”
Silence filled the room.
“Colt?” She looked over at h
im, and he was out. “Fuck. Colt! Please don’t die on me! Don’t die!”
The sound of sirens out on the street poured in from the open front door, filling the room.
“Hurry,” she whispered, the tears streaming down her face. “Please hurry.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Sarah? Sarah, can you hear me?” The sound of Taylor’s voice sifted into the backdrop of her shadowy mind, poking her like an annoying child. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”
In all honesty, she didn’t want to wake up. There was no pain where she was. Only warmth and silence and—
“Woman, get your head out of your drug-induced sleep this instant,” said a deep overbearing voice, “or I’ll tell the world how sad and useless you are.”
Off in the distance, through her mental haze, Sarah heard the sound of a slap. “Bennett! That was rude.”
“What? The nurse said she’d be awake by now. I’m only trying to help,” he argued. “Which is what you should’ve let me do when this fucking mess started. Judge Wright is going to wish he was never born.”
“Judge Wright didn’t shoot her. Some crazy fan did.”
“Every action has a ripple effect, Taylor. Wright blackmailed Sarah, which led to—”
“Shhh…You’re not supposed to know about that!”
“She’s out cold,” Bennett argued.
“Her ears still work—you never know,” Taylor argued.
“Well, let’s hope everything works when she wakes up, because there’s a score to settle and I’m going to help her. No one fucking shoots my wife’s best friend and lives to tell about it.”
“Oh, Bennett. I love you. If I weren’t about to pop, I’d take you into a broom closet and bang you until your head exploded.”
“What’s stopping you? My cock is big, but it still fits.” He chuckled.
“Right you are, honey.” Taylor sighed. “I think I saw an empty room at the end of the hall.”
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, the baby will have dents in his head.”
What? Ewww. That is so wrong, Sarah thought, drifting in and out of consciousness.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard that your dick will stay permanently erect as a monument to my sexiness,” Taylor whispered loudly.
“I’m going to pound you so hard, your pussy will think it’s a diamond mine,” Bennett growled.
“Really?” Taylor snarled back. “Because my pussy’s made to take your family jewels and whatever else you can—”
“Enough,” Sarah grumbled, wishing she had the strength to actually scream or block her ears.
“Ha!” Taylor clapped her hands. “You’re awake!”
“Welcome back, Sarah,” said Bennett. “I’m afraid that little chat has affected me. Be back shortly.”
Through a narrow crack in her lids, Sarah watched Bennett’s blurry frame scurry away.
“Ohmygod, Sarah. Ohmygod!” Taylor lowered her forehead to Sarah’s hand. “We thought we lost you.”
“I survived so I could witness your awesome sex talk,” she mumbled.
“We were joking around.”
“Ha-ha,” she mumbled. Her foggy eyes scanned the room. “How is Colt?”
Taylor looked up at the ceiling, suddenly tearing up.
“What?” Sarah felt her heart rate soar, triggering the little machine at her side to go beep-wild.
Taylor looked down at their joined hands. “The doctors say he might not make it.”
“That can’t be possible.” Her mind was hazy from drugs. Maybe she didn’t hear Taylor correctly.
Taylor continued, “The bullet hit close to his heart, and he lost a lot of blood. They’ve done everything they could, but now there’s nothing left to do but wait.”
“I-I don’t understand,” she muttered. “He was talking to me right after. He sang and everything.”
“I don’t know, sweetie.” Taylor squeezed Sarah’s hand. “We just have to wait and see. Wait and pray.”
Sarah gulped. This was horrific. A goddamned nightmare.
“I want,” she swallowed hard, her throat felt so dry, “to see him.” Sarah tried to sit up.
“Uh-uh.” Taylor gently pushed her back down. “You’re not going anywhere. That bullet nicked your liver. Thank God you’ll still be able to party like a bimbo once you’ve healed, but you are officially—”
“And how is the patient today?” said a male voice from the doorway. It was Jack, one of Taylor’s three older brothers, who was a reconstructive plastic surgeon, which was why he wore blue scrubs. Jack was a handsome man—tall, strong jaw, and blue eyes. He was also the biggest bully when they were growing up.
“Please don’t tell me you operated on me,” Sarah mumbled, feeling foggy as hell, “because then I know I’m going to die.”
Jack chuckled and leaned over her. “You should be so lucky. But I am a world-renowned plastic surgeon and far too talented to waste my time on lowly gunshot wounds. Your less awesome doctor should be by shortly.”
“Smug much?” Sarah grumbled.
“Same as always.” Jack took a look at her eyes with his penlight. “How’s the pain?”
“Horrible.” She took a painful breath. “But I need to see Colt. Can you get me over to him?”
“What you need is to rest,” Jack replied. “By the way, when did you start dating rock stars?” He made a little mock punch on Sarah’s shoulder. “Way to go, Sarah.”
“We’re not dating,” Sarah whispered. “Why would you think that?”
Jack shrugged. “Because it’s all over the—”
“Jack,” Taylor warned, “now is not the time.”
“Time for what?” Sarah asked, already starting to put the pieces together. Of course. This has to be all over the news. And that news couldn’t be good.
“Sarah,” Taylor sighed her name, “just rest. I can fill you in—”
“Tell me. Now,” Sarah demanded in the world’s quietest voice. It hurt to breathe.
Maria’s head popped through the door. She took one look at Sarah and teared up. “Ohmygod, you crazy bitch. What were you thinking getting shot and scaring us like that?” Maria went to the other side of the gurney and hugged Sarah.
“Ow…careful. I just had a liver tuck.” Sarah groaned.
Maria gave her one more squeeze before letting go. “You owe me a new floor, by the way. Seriously, did you have to cover every inch in blood?”
“I tried,” Sarah grumbled. “Did they catch the woman?”
“No,” said Jack. “Which is why you have a policeman posted outside.”
Crap. This is such a mess. “I’m glad you guys weren’t home,” Sarah said to Maria. “I can’t imagine what I would’ve done if anything happened to your family.”
“We were at church,” Maria said. “And now that I actually know God is keeping an eye on me, I’ll never be able to skip another Sunday. It’s really awful,” she said facetiously.
“Speaking of awful,” Sarah whispered and looked at Taylor, “I’m still waiting. What is the press saying?”
Taylor grimaced.
“You haven’t told her yet?” Maria asked Taylor.
Taylor shook her head. “She’s only been awake for two minutes. I didn’t want to put her in a coma—one person is enough.”
“Spit it out,” Sarah said.
Maria took a deep breath. “The tabloids jumped all over it, saying that you and Colt have been secret lovers for months and the shooting was some jealous lovers’ triangle gone wrong.”
The joy of having survived a deadly gunshot flew out the window. “No. No…This can’t be happening,” Sarah said, fully understanding the implications. “I’m ruined.”
Taylor looked as devastated as Sarah felt. “They say you’ll likely be suspended and possibly face criminal charges.” Taylor cleared her throat. “For sexually accosting Colt Young under the color of the court.”
“Wha-wha-what?” Sarah gasped her words. “As in I raped the guy?”
Taylor cringed. “More like blackmailed him into sex.”
Okay. Now Sarah wanted to crawl under a rock and not just die, but go back in time and prevent her own birth. How humiliating.
“Wright is pulling every string he can to discredit you and have you indicted,” Taylor murmured.
Of course he would. He’d want to distance himself from any involvement as well as appear tough on anyone who broke the law in his court.
Sarah rubbed her face with one hand. “This is completely insane.”
“Anyone who knows you isn’t paying attention to the gossip magazines,” said Jack, who had been a tabloid addict for as long as Sarah could remember. He claimed he liked staying up to date on current beauty trends as part of his job, but he didn’t do elective surgery—nose jobs, silicon injections, face-lifts—he put people’s faces back together after accidents.
“Except for that story about the aliens,” Taylor said. “I had no idea you were trying to broker an intergalactic peace treaty, Sarah.”
“All in a day’s work,” Sarah muttered with a sigh, feeling the devastation sink in, but trying not to be a downer to her friends. Why should they suffer because her life was in the shit tank? And, strangely, part of her felt relieved in a way. The truth was out. Okay, not really. She had not…had not—oh, I can’t even say the r-word—forced Colt. And they weren’t lovers, either. They’d had sex once. Consensually. But at least Wright could no longer use the video to blackmail her. The damage was done.
Not all of it. She still had to tell Colt the truth—the whole truth and nothing but the truth—before he found out from someone else. He needed to know that video or not, she had genuinely wanted to help him.
“So I’m suspended.” Sarah bobbed her head, trying to let it sink in. “And my career is ruined.”
“At least you have your extraterrestrial diplomat gig to fall back on,” Taylor said.
Sarah shot her an unfriendly look.
“Sorry.” Taylor held up her hands. “Just trying to make you feel better.”
It would take a lot more than jokes for that to happen. Yes, a time machine might do the trick. “I won’t feel better until I see Colt and know he’s going to live.”