Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The lump was back in his throat. The same lump that had been with him since he first learned of his brother’s injuries. It was tearing his throat raw so that it hurt to speak or even swallow. He wanted to breathe free again with the knowledge that Jordan was through the danger zone, but he’d seen enough injuries in his career to realize that Jordan was far from in the clear. The odds were not in his brother’s favor, and if Jordan didn’t recover, he wasn’t sure if tracking down the bastard that hurt Jordan was going to be enough. Handing the fucker over to the cops and putting him behind bars wasn’t going to be enough.
And if that wasn’t enough, would Snow still be able to look at him, love him, when he finally reached what was enough?
Chapter 6
Snow kept glancing at Jude as he pulled out the ingredients for sandwiches. Sergeant, who always seemed to know if one of them was upset, wove around Jude’s shins and purred loudly in the silent kitchen. Jude slumped into a chair, and their cat jumped onto his lap. He gave him a tired smile and stroked his back. Even in his exhaustion, Jude showed the cat love, and Snow was determined to not let the man push him aside tonight. Jude needed him and that was all there was to it.
They’d put off the trip to the bar for the next night after spending this one in the hospital. Jordan’s brother had flatlined. Fucking flatlined. The fear Snow held in his chest had to be nothing compared to what his partner was feeling. They hadn’t left the hospital until his brother was stable again, so here they were hours later, both hurting more than Snow could bear.
Lines of fatigue pulled at Jude’s features, his mouth turned down into a fierce frown. Not knowing what had gotten Jordan into this situation was killing him.
Snow set the food down in front of Jude, who got up to wash his hands. Snow sat across from him and forced himself to eat, though the food tasted like nothing and sat in a heavy lump in his belly. He watched Jude pick at the sandwich, wishing he had the right words to help him.
“Jordan is strong, Jude. He’ll pull through.”
Jude sighed and closed his eyes before burying his face in his hands. “Seeing him like that…” His voice trailed off and he leaned back in his chair to stare at Snow. “I hate this. Hate that he’s barely holding on. Hate that we have no idea how he got beaten and shot. Everything in my gut is screaming that he got into trouble somehow, and here I’ve been going about my life like nothing’s been wrong.”
“If he hadn’t shared what was going on, how could you have known? How could any of his family have known?”
“He’s never been so secretive, and I’m so damn scared.” He pushed his plate away. “My stomach is too messed up for food. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize—it’s just sandwiches. I wish you’d eat, though. I remember a time in the not-too-distant past that you were dealing with me. Who made sure I ate then?”
He was referring to the time he’d returned home after his trip to Oklahoma right before Lucas’s wedding. The trip back to his hometown to rescue Lucas’s niece had also put Snow face-to-face with some of his relatives. Seeing them after so many years had awoken a lot of old anger, and he’d been a mess for a few months.
“You worked through all that on your own.”
“Because I had your support.”
Jude had stood by him the whole time, quietly supportive and so damn strong. Snow had finally come to the conclusion that he had a wonderful new life and the best lover and friends a man could wish for—that his past was just that. The past. He’d finally buried it all where it belonged. “I’m here for you now. Lean on me.”
Jude’s smile was soft. “I will. But right now, I just want a shower.”
“Then go take one while I clean this up and feed Sergeant.”
Jude tried to give him another smile, but it wavered and disappeared. “Thanks, General.”
At one time Snow had hated the nickname because it came from coworkers in the hospital calling him surgeon general behind his back. But the moniker had stuck, and now it came as a sign of affection from Jude, so he loved it. It was a good sign—him using the nickname. A part of him was still here and functioning despite his overwhelming worry.
Snow cleaned up the dishes and took care of their cat, then made his way up the stairs to the master bath. He watched Jude stand in the shower, his shoulders slumped, and decided it was time for some one-on-one time.