Blood Love

Now: Day 4

All he wanted to do was spend the entire night hunting down Richie, but his beaten all to hell heart wouldn't let him. So he drove to the nearest hospital and slouched, exhausted, into a metal chair in the waiting room, and waited for news on Hayley. Butch and Ricky offered wordless consolation before leaving to continue his search. Jason sat and sat and sat and thought he might lose his mind.

"Jason Lambargo?"

Finally. He jumped to his feet and confronted the doctor. "How is she? Is she okay? Can I see her?"

The older man smiled, thought it was small and unpromising, and gestured for Jason to follow him. He was led down a hall and into a brightly lit room. Hayley was tucked in a bed, heart monitor beeping steady, an IV in her arm.

"She'll be in and out for a while once she wakes up," the doctor stated, but his words didn't exactly register, because all Jason could do was stare at his girlfriend and hate himself and feel this horrific numb sensation spread through his limbs. He did this. It was his fault. He'd screwed up again, and nearly gotten her killed, when he promised to always, always protect her.

"Mr. Lambargo."

He lifted his eyes. "What?"

"I do need to talk to you on a more pressing matter."

"What is it Doctor—" he squinted down at the nametag. "Doctor Morrison?"

Dr. Morrison ushered him out into the hall way, the skin around his eyes pulled tight, lips pressed together. "I assume you're the father."

Immediate panic flared to life. "Yes."

"There were some . . . complications."

You're an idiot. An idiot, an idiot, an idiot. "What do you mean?"

"We may have to take her into surgery. Through everything she's undergone, there is a chance the baby might not make it."

He must have blacked out and then blinked back in seconds later. His knees felt weak. The volatile synapses in his brain flared to life and he grabbed the doctor by his collar and shoved him against the wall. Somewhere in the depths of his sense he realized it was neither smart nor logical to attack the man, but he needed something to release the overbearing pain and frustration. And it was the first thing he thought to do.

"Don't tell me that!" he shouted, aware he drew a crowd of nurses from the nearby room, but not exactly caring. "I can't—she can't—I can't lose my kid. I can't."

Sympathy glinted in the doctor's eyes, turning down his lips. "I'm sorry, son. I promise you we will do all we can."

Jason backed away, allowing the doctor to continue on with his rounds. Like a zombie he shuffled into Hayley's room. Everything within him synced to her heart monitor, and he knew in some transcendental way that if it flat-lined, he would drop as well.

"Baby," he croaked, falling to his knees by her bed. "Princess."

He waited for her to tell him to shut up; to open those dazzling emerald eyes and lash her biting tongue and drive him mad. But nothing. Nothing.

Her hand was devastatingly cold in his. He cradled it between his palms, pressing lips to her knuckles, praying to anything and everything that would listen. Just to make her okay, and bring her back to him, and give him a second chance. One more opportunity to get things right.

Because he would. This time he would make sure Hayley, their child, their family—everything he loved the most—came first.

No questions.

"I love you," he said, purposeful and without room for debate. "Just come back to me sweetheart. I promise you will always come first. Always. You and our child and our life together. Just please, please come back to me."

He rose and perched on the edge of the bed, pushing her hair away, brushing a kiss to her temple. And then he just pressed their foreheads together and closed his eyes and breathed her in. Breathed her entire life into his very being and held it there, within him, nursing life and love and everything he needed to survive.

"Jason."

Ricky. Jason didn't move, didn't look up, didn't separate from the other half of his soul. "What?"

"We found him."

His forehead dropped lower to rest against the bridge of her nose. And then lower to her chin. And then her heart. "You sure?"

"One hundred percent."

After a few moments he rose from the hospital cot. "Where?"

"Butch is outside in the car. He has all the coordinates."

He stared longingly at his girlfriend. "Stay with her. Please."

"Of course, J."

"You call me if anything happens. Anything."

"Sure."

And because he knew if he waited another second he would never leave, Jason strode out and didn't stop until he was sitting in the passenger side of Butch's car.

"The cocky son of a bitch didn't even leave town," Butch said, handing his phone over to Jason, who honed in on the blinking red dot. "Man, I'd burn an entire clip in his stupid ass."

"Don't tempt me." He tucked the phone away. "Drive."

"How's Hayley?"

A shadow passed over his features. His nails dug into his palms. "Drive."

Butch pulled away from the curb, and nothing more was said. Jason just stewed in overwhelming irritation. He thought of all things he would give Hayley when she woke—because she had to wake up. And all the things he'd give and do for his child—because his child had to make it. He would get a job. He would make an honest living. He would get them out of his craphole apartment and into a house. A house. He never thought he'd live in an actual home again.

His family was dead and gone, but this was a beginning.

This was Hayley and their child and the life in front of him to make whatever they wanted. How the hell had he taken all that for granted?

This was what he wanted. She was what he wanted, since he was a teenager.

He had her. He'd had her and never really realized the profound meaning behind that, of how someone who'd seen what she'd seen and knew what she knew could still love someone like him.

So one thing was for sure: things were going to change.

Starting with him.