Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Jordyn

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The sound is everywhere, invading my skull, pulling me out of the darkness and into this hellish reality.

I grimace, a sharp pain slicing down my side as I try to move.

Damn it. It feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my ribs.

"Ugh," I groan, blinking against the blinding white lights overhead.

Where the hell am I?

I turn my head slightly, wincing at the effort.

There's an IV line taped to my arm, snaking up to a bag hanging beside the bed.

I must be at the hospital. Thank God.

The beeping continues, relentless, each pulse a reminder that I'm still here. I'm still alive.

"Ugh . . .what the fuck happened?" I mumble, though no one's around to answer.

My mind's foggy, pieces of memory drifting just out of reach.

Flashes of chaos, a blur of faces, and then nothing.

"Come on, Jordyn," I whisper to myself, "think."

I close my eyes, trying to focus.

Images flicker—Blake in Tart, his enraged face, him grabbing me by my hair, kicking me in the rips, and throwing me on the display case.

My blood. God, there was so much fucking blood.

A shiver runs through me.

"Shit," I hiss, clutching my side.

The pain's a brutal reminder that I survived absolute hell.

I grit my teeth, determined to push through the haze.

I need answers. I need to know everything.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"God, shut the fuck up," I mutter at the machines, though they ignore my command.

Typical. Everything's out of my control, and I hate it. I've always hated feeling helpless.

"Focus, Jordyn," I tell myself again, breathing deeply despite the agony it shoots through my chest.

I force my eyes open, scanning the room for clues.

Sterile walls, a tray of medical tools, and a door slightly ajar.

So, nothing helpful.

"Anyone there?" I call out, my voice raspy and weak.

No response. Just the damn beeping. Figures.

I let my head sink back into the pillow, frustration boiling inside me.

I need to get out of here. I need to find Bama, find out what happened after they found me.

But right now, I can barely move without feeling like I'm being torn apart from the inside.

I close my eyes again, trying to drown out the noise, the pain, the uncertainty.

In the darkness behind my eyelids, I picture Bama's face, his rough hands, his fierce loyalty.

He makes me feel so calm and safe, and I love it.

"Just hold on, Jordyn," I think, clinging to the image of him. "You'll get through this."

The beeping continues, but I let it fade into the background, focusing instead on the one thing that matters—survival.

"Jordyn?" A voice pulls me from the haze. It's soft, almost hesitant, like it's afraid to break me.

I force my eyes open again, squinting against the harsh fluorescent lights.

My gaze lands on a figure sitting beside the bed, someone I didn't see before—dark hair, tired eyes, and a familiar face I haven't seen in quite a while.

"Kat?" My voice cracks, disbelief lacing every syllable.

This has to be a dream.

There's no way she's here.

"Hey, little sis," Kat says, her smile tender but weary. She leans closer, running a gentle hand along my cheek. "I'm so happy you're awake."

The touch is warm, real.

It sends a shiver down my spine, grounding me in the reality of the moment.

Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away furiously. "What are you doing here?"

"Shh," she murmurs, her thumb brushing away a stray tear. "Just rest for now, okay? We can talk later. You need to heal."

"Is this real?" I whisper, fear and hope warring inside me.

The last time I saw Kat, we were worlds apart, separated by miles and dumb sisterly fights.

"Yeah, Jordyn, it's real," Kat reassures me, her voice steady. "I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere."

Her words hang in the air, a promise wrapped in love and regret.

I want to believe her, want to reach out and hold onto her like I did when we were kids, stealing moments of comfort in a world that rarely offered any.

But the pain keeps me tethered to the bed, a brutal reminder of my current reality.

"Why now?" I manage to ask, my throat constricting around the question. "Why'd you come back?"

"It's simple. You almost died. I wasn't going to stay in Las Vegas knowing you went through absolute hell."

"Thank you for coming," I choke out, the words barely audible.

The weight of everything—the attack, the hospital, my sister here—presses down on me.

"You're gonna be okay, Jordyn," Kat whispers, her fingers still tracing soothing patterns on my skin. "The doctors said you were very lucky, and goodness, we're so glad you are."

My voice is raspy like sandpaper. "How long have I been here?"

"Three days," Kat answers softly, her eyes never leaving mine. "Damon, Luna, and I got to Montana yesterday."

"Three days," I echo, the words foreign on my tongue. My eyes drift down, and that's when I see it—a noticeable bump under Kat's shirt. "Are you pregnant?!"

"Surprise," she chuckles, placing a hand on her belly. Her smile widens, softening the hard edges of her face. "I wanted to freak Mom out next time we came up, but I guess plans changed."

A laugh bubbles up inside me, but it morphs into a grimace as pain shoots through my ribs. "Ouch," I mutter, clutching my side.

"Easy there, tough girl," Kat says, concern flooding her expression.

She reaches out, her fingers dancing across my cheek again.

"Where are Luna and Damon?" I manage to ask, trying to shift the focus away from the stabbing pain in my side.

"At the club," Kat replies. "They're keeping an eye on things while I'm here with you."

I nod, taking in her words.

A sudden wave of exhaustion washes over me, but it's tinged with relief.

Damon being here means even more protection, but it's crazy because Damon hasn't left Vegas in years. As a matter of fact, neither has Kat.

I'm so happy they're here, and they've brought my niece, Luna.

"It feels like forever since I've seen you," I say, my voice scratchy from disuse. My eyes wander over Kat's familiar features, now softened, but I'd imagine that's because she's a mother now. "How's Vegas treating you?"

"Busy as hell," she replies, her fingers still resting on my cheek. "Damon's got the club running smoother than ever, but it means he's always buried in work. And Luna? Well, she's just like him—wild and unpredictable."

"Sounds about right," I chuckle softly, careful not to jar my ribs. "I miss having you around. It's different up here."

"Yeah, well, we miss you too," Kat says, her smile fading a bit. "It's not the same as being in Montana, that's for sure. You should come down."

"No way. I couldn't handle the heat in the desert," I joke, but there's a weight behind my words.

"Or maybe you'd just miss all this damn snow," Kat teases, trying to lighten the mood.

"Maybe," I admit with a small grin. "Maybe I'd just miss how bossy Zane is. He's like the big brother I've never had."

"Yeah, he's still bossy," Kat agrees with a laugh. "But he means well. He's always looking out for us. Just know that."

"Speaking of looking out," I shift slightly, wincing at the pain. "Kat, what happened after they found me? Where's Bama? Have you seen him?"

"Your boyfriend is something else," she says, her voice turning soft. "He's barely left your side since they brought you in. Only reason he's not here now is because Mom insisted he get some rest. And you know Mom." Kat laughs and I chuckle.

"Of course she did," I mutter, feeling a surge of warmth for Bama. "What happened after they found me?"

"Jordyn," Kat's expression turns serious, her eyes locking onto mine. "You don't need to worry about that. What happened to you was bad. Real bad. But you're tougher than nails, sis. The doctors here patched you up and you'll be good as new when you give your body some time to heal up."

I need to know the details, even if they hurt. "Kat, come on. What happened?"

"You needed emergency surgery," she says, her tone darkening. "Whoever did this to you, they broke several of your ribs, and ruptured your spleen."

"Blake Ojai," I say, my hands clenching into fists. "He's the one who did this to me."

"Okay, I'll text our Dads and let them know." Kat soothes, her hand sliding back to mine. "Right now, all you need to do is worry about getting better. Okay?"

"Yeah. I just don't wanna be stuck in this damn bed." I whisper, closing my eyes.

Despite the pain, I want to be helping them nail Blake down.

I can't believe a man I was starting to care about did this to me.

What a fucking joke.