Claimed: A For Her Novel Page 10

  “Call 911,” Jordan says, and I do it without hesitation.

  My hands are shaky as I hold the phone, and Jordan starts CPR on his father. The operator is in my ear, but it’s all a blur. I have to ask Jordan for the address and then shout it into the phone and tell them to hurry.

  Panic is rushing through me, and my heart is breaking as I watch Jordan work on him. He’s counting out the beats, and I’m praying like I’ve never prayed before that help gets here in time.

  This isn’t supposed to be happening. This can’t be real.

  Before I know what’s going on, the ambulance is here and they’re telling Jordan to get out of the way. I hold on to him with all my strength so that the medics can get to his dad and help save his life. Jordan has done all he can do, and it’s in their hands now.

  “We’ve got a pulse!” one of them shouts, and I thank God.

  They bring in a stretcher and then carry him out in a blur. Everything is happening so fast. I hold on to Jordan’s hand as we follow them. Jordan climbs into the back of the ambulance and holds his hand out to me.

  “Only one family member,” the medic says, looking at me as they load up.

  “Go. I’ll lock up the house and be right behind you,” I say.

  I see the torn look in his eyes, and I want to go with him, but I can’t.

  “Right behind you,” I say again, and he nods.

  There’s fear like I’ve never seen in his eyes, and I pray again that everything will be okay. I watch for a second as they pull away and listen to the sirens blare.

  I run back into the house and make sure everything is turned off. There was a pot on the stove, so I’m glad I came back in. I straighten up the back porch in case Jordan comes back here later. I don’t want him to have to take care of it.

  It’s then I realize that the chair was still sitting up when we came in. I had assumed Jordan’s father had hit his head, but how could he have done that if he was still in his chair? It all happened so fast that now I’m not able to recall the detail properly. Maybe I’m misremembering...

  After I’ve double-checked everything, I lock up the house and flag down a cab. I tell the driver the name of the hospital the medic said they were going to and text Jordan that I’m on the way.

  Me: In the cab. Be there soon.

  Jordan: I’m in the waiting room. They’re in the back working on him.

  Me: Do you need me to get anything for you on the way?

  Jordan: No. I just need you. Hurry.

  Me: I’m almost there.

  I toss an extra twenty at the cab driver to speed it up, but he’s still not going as fast as I need him to. Although he is breaking the speed limit and most traffic laws.

  We pull up in the parking lot, and I jump out while the cab is still moving. I run inside and see Jordan pacing. He stops when he sees me and runs to me, wrapping me up in his arms.

  “Is he okay? What’s happening?”

  “The doctor came out and said he has a severe concussion. They’re going to put him into an induced coma until some of the swelling goes down.”

  “Oh God, Jordan, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  “I just want to see him. They said I can go back, but I was waiting for you.”

  “Go ahead. Don’t wait for me. I’ll be right here when you come out.”

  He shakes his head. “I need you.”

  His voice and his eyes are filled with a desperate plea.

  “I’m right here. Anything you need. I’m not going anywhere.” I squeeze his hands in mine, and he nods.

  We walk down a quiet hallway, and the nurses at the end speak to us before we go in. They tell us to be quiet and that we can only stay for a few minutes. He’s in ICU, but he’s stable, and they’ll monitor him overnight and see how the swelling progresses. We can touch his hand and talk to him, but don’t touch anything else. We agree, and they show us to a private area, with the curtains pulled around to block out the surrounding bustle.

  Jordan’s hand squeezes mine as we walk closer.

  His father looks small and frail in the bed, hooked up to so many machines. Jordan must be having the same thoughts, because I see his face turn white.

  I decide to help calm him and step up to his dad, taking his hand in mine. “Hey, Mr. Chen. It’s not so great meeting like this. But I’m glad you’re still with us and that I finally get a chance to say hello. Jordan made me pick out your scratch-off this week, so if it’s not a winner, that’s my fault. And he says you’ll never let me forget it.”

  I look up to Jordan and see his eyes are red, but his tears are unshed.

  “I made pecan pie because he said it was your favorite. I don’t know how good it is. Don’t worry. I’ll save you a slice. You know how Jordan can be when it comes to food.” I wink at him, and he smiles at me. “Anyway, we’ll let you get some rest. We’ll be back as soon as the nurses say it’s okay, and then we’ll check that ticket. I think I’m pretty lucky, since I managed to get this guy to ask me out.”

  I squeeze his hand one last time and step aside for Jordan to hold it now. He does, and I stand right behind him with my hand on his back.

  “Pop,” he says, and then stops. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. “Don’t you dare do this to me. You get some sleep and then come back to me.”

  He takes my hand and places it on top of their joined ones. The three of us are in one hold.

  “I love you,” he whispers, and in that moment it feels like he’s saying it to both of us.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Jay

  A few days have passed, and I hate the little cloud that’s hovered around Jordan. The doctor has given his father a good prognosis, but Jordan is still worried. They said the swelling is going down, but not as fast as they’d like. But for a man his age, it’s to be expected. They hope to be able to wake him up from the induced coma this weekend and see the full extent of the damage.

  I think that’s Jordan’s biggest fear, that his dad will wake up and he won’t be the same. We’ve spent every chance we can at the hospital, staying for only a few moments at a time. I came back to work yesterday after Jordan insisted. I told him that I could take off as much time as I needed in order to be with him, but I think he wanted one of us to be productive. Sitting around worrying all the time wasn’t doing either of us any good. Only now I’m sitting at work and worrying.

  My afternoon consists of taking notes in a meeting with Miles and Mr. Spencer. I didn’t tell Miles about what happened the last time he was here, and I don’t plan to, unless another situation occurs.

  Miles has sent me an email to let me know what they’ll be covering in their meeting, and I see it’s got the Lannister file included. Clicking on the folder, I scan back through the documents to see why this one thing keeps popping up. Some of these documents have details on overseas deals that having nothing to do with us. I can’t imagine why either of them would be talking about this, especially when the company that’s processed this request also deals in foreign ammunition production. Osbourne Corp. doesn’t contract with anything like this.

  I click on the email and start to reply when my cell phone rings. Thinking it might be Jordan, I pick it up on the first ring without looking to see who it is.

  “Oh my God, Jay, what kind of disgusting mail-order service are you a part of?!” Summer screams into the phone.

  I rub my forehead and try to push away the migraine I know she’s about to trigger.

  “It’s just my monthly snack box order. Put it to the side and don’t eat it if you don’t want to. I can come by and pick it up later. You know, opening someone else’s mail is a federal offense.” Jesus. Who knew she was going to be this much trouble? Oh, wait. I did.

  “Are you shitting me, Jay? There’s a dead fucking bird in this box.”

  “What?” My voice is barely
above a whisper.

  “I wasn’t going to open your mail, because I’m not a complete asshole. But this one was starting to smell, so...” She lets that sentence hang in the air.

  “I’m coming over,” I say and hang up the phone.

  I poke my head into Miles’s office and say I need to head out to take care of some errands. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to worry.

  “You know you don’t have to tell me. And you can take all the time you need,” he says.

  I nod and duck out, grabbing my bag and hitting the button for the elevator. Just as the doors open, Mr. Spencer steps off in such a way that I can’t step on.

  “Miss Rosie.” He says my name wrong on purpose, and then licks his lips. “You know I was hoping I could make it right after our last run-in.”

  He leans in close to me, and I have no choice but to stand there. I can’t get around him, and he’s too big for me to physically push out of the way.

  “How about I take you out to lunch? Or maybe dinner? We could go to my place. The view from the penthouse is spectacular.” He brings his hand up to my shoulder, and I move to the side to avoid it.

  “I need to go. I have a family emergency.”

  “Oh, is everyone okay?” He feigns concern. “Can I offer you a ride?”

  “No, thank you,” I say just as Miles comes out of his office.

  “Is everything all right?” he asks, and when Mr. Spencer looks up, I duck around him and hit the button. I don’t hear the rest of the conversation as the doors close, and I slide the card Jordan gave me to take me directly to the first floor.

  Jordan. Shit.

  I was supposed to have lunch with him today. He isn’t back to work yet, but I thought it would do us some good to have lunch in the park. Get some sunshine and help him relax.

  I pull out my phone and send him a quick text telling him my sister needed me to go by the apartment and I may be a little bit late.

  Jordan: Want me to come with you?

  Me: No, it’s fine. You know how she is. I’ll take care of it.

  Jordan: Okay. I’ll see you after. Better have my kiss ready.

  I can’t help but smile. He always knows how to make me feel better.

  Me: Always.

  I send twenty kiss emojis and think that maybe it’s overkill, but I don’t care. He can have as many as he wants.

  We haven’t done anything sexual since Sunday morning before we left his place. At night, we just hold one another. Sometimes he holds me and sometimes I hold him. I know he needs comfort these days, and I try to respect that. No matter how much my body begs for more.

  By the time I make it to my apartment, my sister is in hysterics. She’s such a ditz she thinks I ordered this for some kind of séance.

  “Summer, in what world would anyone want a dead bird? Let alone find a place that delivers it!” I shout as she goes on and on about how I’m the reason there’s so much negative energy in this space.

  “You really need to clean your chi,” she says, crossing her arms and looking at me like I’m a disgrace.

  “Just...just call the building security if you have any more problems like this, okay? This isn’t a normal delivery for my house. How did you even get it?”

  “It was sitting outside your door,” she says over her shoulder as she walks away from me. “Lock up on your way out.”

  I take the box with the dead bird and bag it. There was no note or return address, and the fact that it was outside the door makes me really nervous. How could someone just leave this outside my door? Is this some sort of sick joke?

  I walk down to the front desk and speak to the doorman that’s there. He doesn’t have any information and says he can request the camera footage if I fill out some forms. I don’t have time, but I take them with me, saying I’ll drop them by later before his shift is over.

  He takes the bag and says he’ll dispose of it and contact the building management to see what they can do.

  It’s not much to go on, but at least it’s something. I should tell Jordan about it, but with everything that’s going on with his dad, I don’t want to add to his stress. I know how protective he is of me already, and I can’t imagine this would make it any better.

  By the time I’ve got all of it taken care of, the sky has opened up and it’s pouring rain. I’m in a cab halfway to the park when I get a text.

  Jordan: Looks like our picnic is once again ruined.

  Me: At least this time I didn’t kick you in the balls.

  Jordan: There’s that silver lining I was looking for.

  Me: Want to meet at the cafeteria at work?

  Jordan: Don’t think I can make it across town in time. I’m going to head to the hospital. I’ll see you after work.

  Me: Okay, tell Pop I said hello.

  Jordan: XOXO

  Disappointment hits me as I tell the driver to take me back to Osbourne Corp. Could this day get any worse?

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jay

  I look at the clock on my computer for the millionth time, willing it to move faster. I swear it’s taunting me. Normally I’m always on the move at work and the day flies by, but today my mind can’t seem to focus.

  Picking up my phone, I check to see if Jordan has texted me with any updates. I’m disappointed when I see nothing new. I don’t know if no news is good news. I hate not being there with him, holding his hand while he has to go through all of it.

  “Jay.” I jump at the sound of Miles calling my name. I must’ve zoned out. “Why don’t you head out?” he says, studying me for a moment. I glance back at the clock and see it’s only a little after three. I still have a list of things I need to finish.

  “Sir, I...” I want to leave. To go to the hospital and check on Jordan. I’ve felt off all day, and I want to be close to him right now, but I also know I’ve missed a few days already and there are things I need to take care of here. I still have a pile of emails to go through and a few reports to go over, as well.

  “Jay, go. I know you’re worried. You have a million vacation days saved up.” He’s right. I do. I never use them. “This isn’t a request. Do what you need to do, and go. Your mind isn’t even here right now, so there is no point in staying.”

  “I promise I’ll get all caught up—”

  He raises his hand to stop me. “It’s fine. You’re my best employee. I know everything will be taken care of, and we have nothing pressing that can’t hold off for a day or so.”

  “Thank you.”

  Miles nods and goes back to his office. I don’t wait another moment before I grab my purse and shut my computer down. I pick up my phone, checking it once again as I head to the elevator and slide in the key card. The one I told myself I’d probably never use but now I can’t seem to help myself.

  When I get in the elevator, my phone dings with a text from Jordan. I hurry to open and read it.

  Jordan: Take a cab.

  I glance up at the camera and smile before shaking my head. I have a feeling Jordan can even pull up building security from his phone. I don’t think there is anything he can’t do with technology.

  Me: You watching me?

  Jordan: Always.

  That should probably be creepy, but all it does is make me feel warm inside. I love that he worries about me enough to check in. I’ve never really had that before. When I lived at home, I was always the one doing all the worrying for everyone else. They all seemed to think I had it all under control, so no one ever bothered to see if I was okay. Having Jordan do this now is comforting in a way I wouldn’t have expected.

  When I exit the building, I grab a cab and head straight for the hospital. Traffic isn’t too bad this time of day, and before I know it, I’m hopping out and making my way into the recovery wing, where Jordan’s dad is located.

  Whe
n I walk into the room, Jordan looks up, and I watch a smile pull at his lips. Some of the tension leaves his body as he stands, moving towards me. He looks like he hasn’t slept much. I know at night in bed he tosses and turns until I stroke my hands through his hair. It’s the only thing that settles him down, but I’d do it all night if it meant he finally had some peace. He’s been a mess the past few days, and I know the stress is wearing on him.

  “Hey,” I say softly. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer into him. I bury my face in his chest, breathing him in. Some of the worry of the day fades away at his simple touch. I never knew having him in my life would offer me so much comfort.

  “I missed you,” he says against the top of my head, and I feel him kiss me there.

  “I missed you, too,” I admit. “How are things?”

  I try to pull back so I can look at him, but he only holds me tighter, not wanting to let me go.

  “They said he should wake up anytime now.”

  More relief washes over me. They’re letting him wake up. That’s good. Better than good. “So we wait?”

  “We wait,” he agrees as he picks me up and sits us both down in the chair beside the bed. He cradles me in his arms, and I snuggle against him, feeling his hope seep into me.

  “Jordan?”

  “Rest,” he says, stopping me from asking questions.

  “You’re the one who needs sleep,” I insist, finally getting to really look into his eyes.

  “I just need to hold you. Then I’ll be good to go.”

  “Hmm,” I mumble, burying my face in his neck. I feel even more tension drain from his body as his warmth surrounds me.

  I must drift off, because the next thing I hear is a man’s gruff voice. “You always going to hog her like that?” Jordan laughs quietly at the man’s question.

  I turn my head to see Jordan’s dad is awake, and he’s staring at me. In one movement, I’m up on my feet. “You’re awake!” My eyes water as I step toward the bed.

  Jordan hits the call button by the bed rail.