Jaymeson took the granola bar, opened it, and broke off pieces, handing them to me like I was a small child.
Greedily, I took each piece, chewed, and swallowed.
When I was finished, he reached for my hands and kissed them both. “She’s going to be fine, Pris.”
“How do you know?” I snapped.
He pulled me into his embrace. “I have to believe God wouldn’t take someone so young. I have to. Or I’ll go crazy.”
“Me too, Jaymeson. Me too.”
We rode in silence the rest of the way to Mercy Hospital. Jaymeson walked up to the information desk like he owned the place. “We’re here to see Dani Garcia.”
I’d never told Jaymeson my sister’s name. She hadn’t been at Alec and Nats wedding.
I’d never talked about my family.
The last time I talked to my dad he’d told me to believe in miracles. Where was my miracle now? Now that he and my mom were dead.
I sucked the tears in — needing to be strong for my baby sister. Seventeen. She’d just turned seventeen.
We were barely a year apart.
“And who are you?”
“Her sister and brother-in-law,” Jaymeson said in that same smooth voice that had even me believing we were married. He gripped my hand firmly in his then leveled the nurse with a stare that dared her to question him.
“She’s in ICU. No visitors. Not even family until visiting hours.”
“And that would be… when?” Jaymeson glanced at the clock.
“Two hours.”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Look, miss, I know you’re just doing your job. And I respect that there are rules in the hospital that people need to follow. I get that. But this girl right here? She’s the love of my life. Her heart is freaking broken. She just lost her parents and her little sister may be dying. So, excuse me for being frantic, excuse me for losing my shit, but for the love of God, let us through those doors before I give you a reason to call the police.”
The lady’s eyes widened as she touched the button behind her seat. “Go to the fifth floor. Room Eleven.”
“Thank you.” Jaymeson pulled me through the door and onto the elevator.
He loved me.
He loved me.
He loved me.
My parents were dead.
And he loved me.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Jaymeson
I’d witnessed people lose their shit. Hell, I lived in Hollywood, where nervous breakdowns were a regular occurrence, especially in the industry.
But to personally lose it? To say things I wasn’t ready to say? To feel so angry that I would have done anything — including putting myself in federal prison, just so Pris could see her sister’s face?
To be pushed that far.
To be okay with it.
Was utterly abhorrent, yet totally necessary, because in that moment, I realized two things about myself.
One, my heart still worked.
Two, she had it in the palm of her hands.
I gripped her fingers tightly as we rode the elevator up to the fifth floor. Had the nurse not let us in, I would have run toward the door anyway or pulled the celebrity card —a card I’d never pulled in my entire life.
“Room Eleven,” I said out loud, squeezing Pris’s shoulder. We walked by a row of rooms, until we finally came to Dani’s.
A nurse stood outside. “Visiting hours are—”
I held up my hand. “Jamie Jaymeson, and you are?”
Her mouth dropped open. With a sigh, I nodded to Pris and opened the door for her while she slipped inside. The nurse looked from me to the door then back to me.
“I could get fired, you know.”
“You won’t get fired,” I said in a low voice. “It would be all over the news. The hospital would lose funding, not to mention it would look bad that my future wife was unable to see her sister less than twenty-four hours after her parents’ death, don’t you think?”
“Her parents.” The nurse cleared her throat. “She’s been asking about them.”
“Shit.” I wiped my face with my hands. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing.” The nurse held the clipboard close to her chest. “Every time she asks, she drifts off to sleep again.”
“Her injuries?”
The nurse’s eyes darted around for a brief moment before she took a step forward and placed her hand on my arm. “We’ve done all we can.”
“Which means?” I felt like I was going to puke.
“It means we’ve done all we can. Now, we wait.”
“Wait.” Exhaling, I mumbled a thanks and walked into the room.
She was smaller than Pris, like a little mouse. A mop of brown hair fell past her shoulders. Her face was so bruised it was hard to make out her features. Both eyes were swollen and her jaw had purple bruising all the way down the left side.
Pris reached for Dani’s hand and clenched it in hers. “Hey, baby girl.”
The humming of the machines was enough to drive me insane.
“You need to wake up.” Pris sniffled. “Because I have a surprise for you.” She wiped a stray tear. “Your favorite movie star is standing only a few feet away from you — and he’s totally seen you without makeup. So if you don’t want to wake up for me, wake up for Jaymeson.”
I smiled at that, my throat clogging with emotion.
“Just open your eyes,” Pris whispered. “I need to know you’re okay.”
A nurse walked in. I turned and glared. She walked right back out.
The heart monitor was consistent in its beeping. Dani’s left arm was in a cast as well as her left leg. I could only assume they’d taken a hit to the left side of the car, meaning Pris and Dani’s dad had most likely been killed on impact. A shudder rippled through me.
How was it fair?
Me being alive? Living the life that I did? When a pastor and his wife had died. A man of God — someone who dedicated his life to serving a higher purpose—
Where my life had been dedicated to serving me.
I believed in nothing.
I fought for nothing.
It was me and acting.
Two weeks ago I would have left Pris — I would have still thought about her, I would have wanted her, but I would have left her — I would have left her for me.
Now? It felt so wrong to be breathing the same air that had been taken from her parents’ lives. To be breathing the same air as her little sister who was fighting for her life.
Pris turned to me, her eyes blurry. “Thank you, Jaymeson. Thank you so much, I’m—” She burst into tears.