The Harder You Fall (32 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

W
HEN
J
ESSIE
K
AY
'
S
eyes closed, West almost lost it. He trembled as he felt for a pulse.
Thumpthump...thumpthump...
Pause
...thumpthump.
Too fast, even skipping a beat, but there. Thank God!

His own heart thudding against his ribs, he stayed close to the ground as he gathered her into his arms and crawled out of the bathroom, not wanting Monica able to fire off another shot, not wanting to push the arrow in deeper or pull it out farther.

Once he cleared the bathroom, he kicked the door shut, blocking any view from outside, but still he remained as low as possible as he barreled into the hallway. He wanted to shut down, to let his mind go somewhere else, and if not that, to hurl accusations at him—
my fault, never should have relaxed my guard, not for a minute, not for a second
—but he refused to give in to old fears and forced himself to carry on. Jessie Kay needed him to keep his shit together, so he would keep his shit together.

“Jase! Beck!” People spotted him with the unconscious, bloody Jessie Kay and gasped, some scrambling to get away, some trying to get closer. He scanned the farmhouse to ensure he avoided the windows. When he was certain Monica couldn't spot Jessie Kay through curtains or glass, he stopped and shouted, “An ambulance and the police are on the way, but she needs a doctor
now
.”

“I'm Dr. Chastain.” A man who looked to be in his late thirties, early forties pushed through the crowd. West had never met him, but he was suddenly glad the party had expanded to include the entire town. This might have happened regardless of the crowd—probably would have.

Jase and Beck were right behind the guy, Brook Lynn and Harlow right behind them. Brook Lynn took one look at her sister and screamed.

She rushed forward, gasping out, “Jessie Kay, Jessie Kay, I'm here. I'm here. Stay with me, okay?”

“Lay her across the coffee table,” Dr. Chastain said. “Make sure the arrow doesn't touch it or the floor.”

West obeyed, even though setting Jessie Kay down violated every instinct he possessed. Hold on. Keep her. Protect her.

“She's bleeding so much,” someone muttered.

“How did this happen?”

“Our poor Jessie Kay.”

Making everything worse.

West met Jase's gaze. “Get everyone out. Now.”

The man immediately began herding the guests out the door. Mr. Porter and Mr. Rodriguez proved stubborn, planting themselves at the far wall, refusing to budge.

“My son is out there.” Mr. Porter rested his hand on the hilt of the gun peeking from the waist of his pants. “I'm staying.”

Daniel must have warned him about the danger.

“Scissors,” Dr. Chastain demanded and a frantic Harlow rushed off. She returned what seemed an eternity later, and the doctor cut away Jessie Kay's blood-soaked shirt. Crimson smeared her skin, saturated her bra.

West's stomach twisted at the sight of the arrow protruding from her chest. “Tell me she's going to be okay.” People had survived worse.

“Please,” Brook Lynn said, her voice trembling. “Tell him.”

“I don't know,” the doctor admitted, his features strained. “If the arrow nicked her heart...”

West shook his head in denial. “No. It didn't. It
didn't.
”

Brook Lynn's knees buckled. Jase raced to her side and gathered her close. A sob left her as she buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder.

“There has to be something you can do.” West pointed at the doctor. “So you do it. You hear me? You do it.”

The front door flew open, and Daniel came stomping inside, a crossbow in one hand and a protesting Monica in the other. He tossed the weapon on the couch, out of reaching distance, spotted Jessie Kay and cursed. A curse West echoed at the bitch who'd just tried to kill the love of his life. She'd slathered on mud to camouflage her presence.

“I'm so sorry,” Daniel rasped. “Is Jessie Kay going to be... I can't believe... We didn't spot this bitch until the window shattered.”

Monica beat at his chest. When she realized the man couldn't be budged, she swung around to face West, anger glowing in her eyes. “She's wrong for you. You can't see it now, but you will. You'll see, and you'll want me again. I'll forgive you, and we'll be together.”

A roar scraped his throat—and if Beck hadn't held him back, he wasn't sure what he would have done to the girl.

The commotion woke Jessie Kay. She moaned, her eyelids fluttering open. “West?”

She asks for me. Not her sister. Me.
He took her hand. “I'm here, kitten. I'm here.”

Pain glimmered in her eyes. “Monica?”

“She shot you with a crossbow, but Daniel caught her. She'll never hurt you again, I swear it. Now, I want you to save your strength. Dr. Chastain is here, and an ambulance is on the way. All you have to do is get better.” She had to get better.

“Slut,” Monica snarled, fighting against Daniel once more. “You don't deserve him. You'll never deserve him.”

“Shut her up,” West snapped. “Now.”

Jessie Kay began shaking. “West?”

“Keep her still.” Dr. Chastain cut strips from the towel West had used and wrapped them around the wound to hold the arrow in place and prevent unintentional movement of the shaft. “Splinters will cause even more damage.”

“Shh, kitten.” West forced Jessie Kay's head against his shoulder, holding her immobile with the crook of his elbow. “Shh. I know you're terrified of hospitals, but I'll be with you every step of the way. We're facing our fears together, all right?”

Sirens sounded in the distance, and Monica realized she was out of time. She let her knees buckle, the full brunt of her weight ripping her from Daniel's arms. When she hit the floor, she pulled a knife from a sheath at his ankle—then stabbed him in the thigh before he had time to react.

Howling, he stumbled back, and she flew toward Jessie Kay.

What happened next happened in a split second.

In unison, West, Mr. Porter and Mr. Rodriguez pulled their guns and aimed. Three ear-piercing shots rang out, the scent of gunpowder filling the air. Each shot was meant only to wound, but combined they did major damage. Monica flew backward, slamming into the wall, falling to her ass and leaving a river of crimson behind. She sat there for a moment, stunned as she gasped for breath.

“You...shot me.” Her gaze lifted, found West's and pleaded with him to help her. “Help me. Please.”

Mr. Porter rushed to his son as fast as his arthritic body would allow, then did his best to bind the wound. Mr. Rodriguez kicked the blade out of Monica's hand and applied pressure to the cache of bullet holes in her chest.

West held Jessie Kay tighter.

“West... West...you okay?” She struggled to sit up, to aid him, only doing more damage to herself.

“Keep her still,” the doctor demanded.

“I'm fine, kitten, but you have to remain immobile, all right. For me. Do it for me.”

Her teeth began to chatter. “Y-yes. Okay.”

A few seconds later—an eternity—two paramedics rushed through the door at last, big black bags in hand.

“Did someone call—” The one in front took in the scene. “Yeah. We're in the right place.”

The two men branched off, one going for Jessie Kay, the other for Monica, Daniel's injury the least concerning at the moment.

“What happened?” the second guy asked.

Jase explained the situation as the men pulled medicine and bandages from their bags and got to work.

Dr. Chastain introduced himself and told the men what he knew about Jessie Kay's injuries.

“We need to get her to St. Anthony's while she's stable,” the paramedic said. “Which means as soon as possible.”

“Y-you'll come with me, right?” Jessie Kay stuttered. “Please, West.”

He clasped her hand, kissed her knuckles. “I'll be with you. There's no place else I'd rather be.”

“You the husband?” the paramedic asked him as he rushed over to Daniel, exchanging his gloves for another pair.

“Yes,” West replied, suspecting they'd try to keep him away from her otherwise.

“We'll need you to ride with us and sit behind her on the gurney, hold her up. I'll be driving, and Patrick over there will be monitoring the vitals of both women. Things aren't looking good for the other one, I'm afraid.” The paramedic finished bandaging Daniel and said, “There isn't room for you to go with us. Can someone drive you and follow us?”

“I will,” his father said. “I'll drive him.”

West sat behind Jessie Kay on the gurney as instructed, holding her upright as they were wheeled to the ambulance.

“I love you, kitten.” He said it over and over again, doing his best to distract her while the paramedic performed CPR on Monica. The girl's heart had stopped and wouldn't start again.

She was pronounced dead the moment of arrival, and Jessie Kay was wheeled off to the ER for emergency surgery, a six-hour process during which West paced inside a private waiting room, Jase holding a crying Brook Lynn and Beck holding a crying Harlow.

Sheriff Lintz stopped by to question everyone separately. West answered honestly and was finally told he, Mr. Porter and Mr. Rodriguez would not be charged with a crime. They'd acted in self-defense.

As West waited for answers from the team of doctors working on Jessie Kay, he had a thought that history was repeating itself and time really was circular—
what is present will become what is past and what is past will become what is future
. But in the past, when Tessa had gotten hurt, he'd buckled. He'd gotten high. Now there had never been a better time to sink back into old habits, to once again lose himself to the euphoria of coke, but he had absolutely no desire to do so.

He only wanted Jessie Kay.

When finally he learned the arrow had been successfully removed and she would make a full recovery, that he would get to see her as soon as she woke, he collapsed into a chair, his eyes burning with tears of his own.

Jase patted him on one shoulder, and Beck patted the other. He took them by the wrists and held on. The three of them, they'd been through a lot together. And at one time, they'd only had each other. Now they had these amazing women—women who'd made them step up and be better.

I'm better. I'm so much better.

Like his friends, he was finally getting a happily-ever-after. The kind he'd never dared to hope for. Until Jessie Kay. Until her light chased away his darkness.

Life, he thought, was a precious gift. And he wasn't going to waste his ever again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

D
URING
THE
NEXT
three weeks, everyone in town stopped by the house to visit with Jessie Kay, and no one came empty-handed. She was given casseroles, homemade desserts, balloons and even a strawberry-shaped pillow. Never had she been so pampered, and she decided taking an arrow to the chest should become an annual event.

When she told West, he threatened to spank her.

West—sweet, protective West—who made sure no one overstayed their welcome or tired her out.

He really had gotten a tattoo of her name. When he'd shown it to her, he'd said, “You are the center of my world. You are the glue that holds me together, and now your name proves it.”

Her name stretched from his sternum to his navel—
Jessie Kay
—the letters forming a perfect line down the center of his chest.

Darling man! He'd finished up the website for her business—Jessie Kay's Closet. Since she'd been confined to bed, she'd already designed the first line of dresses she would sell.

He took care of her in every way. In fact, he made sure she ate three meals a day. He drew her a bath every morning, and even washed, dried and styled her hair. Though his attempt at a ponytail had been laughable, he'd been unbelievably adorable, so how could she correct him? He'd even gifted her with a cat from the local shelter. Their first pet together, he'd said.

She freaking loved that cat! The black-and-white fur baby wasn't feral enough for a military title, so Jessie Kay had named her Miss America—America for short. The little beauty queen always strutted through the halls like she owned them. Because she did.

West also taught Jessie Kay the secrets to winning the video game he'd given her at Christmas. Even how to beat him! Which she hadn't. Yet. Boo, hiss. But on the plus side, the heroine really did look like her. Tall, blonde and model gorgeous.

Hey, it wasn't bragging if it was true.

By the time the city doc cleared her to return to regularly scheduled activities, she was a cauldron of lust and basically attacked West, ripping off his clothes. Afterward, as they lay naked and sated, they talked about getting married in a small, quick ceremony like Beck and Harlow, but in the end, decided they wanted to invite the entire town so everyone would know they were officially and legally off-limits.

Was it any wonder she loved him so dang much?

Miss America would, of course, be the flower girl.

Jessie Kay floated on clouds of bliss until the day of Brook Lynn's wedding. A bright, happy day with only one storm cloud. Their parents wouldn't be there to see their youngest daughter walk down the aisle.

There's a rainbow after every storm
, Momma used to say.
Never look back, just keep marching forward and you'll see it.

I will, Momma. From now on, I'll only march forward.

“I love you. So much.” Jessie Kay gave Brook Lynn a hug. “You know that, right?”

“I know it, and I love you, too.”

Her sister had woven pink flowers through her pale hair. And her dress...well, it was a masterpiece. She'd ditched the store-bought gown and asked Jessie Kay to make her one. Which Jessie Kay had. Grecian in design, with a halter top and cinched waist, silk overlaid with antique Brussels rose-point lace, pleats falling in different lengths, each one covered in hand-sewn pearls.

“You are a vision. An angel.”

“Really?” Brook Lynn asked nervously. “You think so?”

“Really. And my opinion is the only one that matters.” She smiled when her sister laughed. “If Jase rips the dress when he takes it off you, I will remove his heart with a rusty spoon.”

Brook Lynn's laugh turned into a snort just as the music started up beyond the double doors in front of them.

The time had come.

“All right, sister dear.” Jessie Kay straightened her shoulders, linked arms with her sister. “Let's make an honest woman out of you.”

Together, they sailed past the doors leading into the sanctuary of the Strawberry Valley Community Church. As Jessie Kay walked her younger sister down the aisle, a white carpet at their feet, Jase stared at his bride-to-be and dang if tears didn't gleam in his eyes.

Jessie Kay shifted her gaze to West—she just couldn't help herself—who stood at Jase's side. His co–best man.

My man.
Mouthwateringly gorgeous in a tux, and oh, heck. He was focused wholly on Jessie Kay, the heat in his eyes scorching. He was so beautiful, so strong and completely devoted to her. He still liked to plan every second of every day, but he never minded when Jessie Kay crumpled up the paper and demanded he make love to her
now
.

There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, and nothing she wouldn't do for him. They spent every day talking and laughing, and spent every night cocooned in each other's arms. He was happy, so gloriously happy, and he never tried to fight it—which was one of the things that made her happiest.

Not that he'd changed drastically or anything like that. He was still possessive and protective. He still kept others at a distance. In fact, a few nights ago, she'd attended a business dinner with him. As his fiancée rather than a server, thank you very much. The restaurant had been rented out for some company West had agreed to work with—blah, blah, blah—and while he'd smiled and charmed some of the ladies in attendance, Jessie Kay hadn't experienced a single twinge of jealousy. He was different with her. Everyone else got a polite version of him. She got the real deal. The wicked seducer and ruthless caveman.

“Who gives this woman away?” Pastor Washington asked, his voice echoing through the sanctuary.

“I'm not giving her away,” Jessie Kay said. Several people in the crowd gasped. “What? I'm sharing her.” Once she'd feared losing her sister to Jase and the family the two created. How silly. She was
part
of their family, now and always.

Jase winked at her and wrapped an arm around Brook Lynn's waist.

Jessie Kay took her place between her sister and a noticeably pregnant Harlow, riveted by the sight of the church, which had been transformed into a dreamland. A sea of pink and white roses spilled from the ceiling, adorned every pew and dripped from the arch the bride and groom now stood under. Twinkling lights had been strung overhead, like stars, and woven through the cords were more flowers.

Nearly everyone in town had come to witness the blessed union of two staples of the community.

Jessie Kay's wedding would take place next month. Why wait any longer? Fear had stomped on her dreams long enough and now she was going to live every moment to the fullest.

Tears filled her eyes as Jase and Brook Lynn promised to love each other forever. And when he kissed his bride, the entire congregation went wild, cheering and throwing random things in the air. What looked like a fly swatter. A beach ball—where had that come from? Even a roll of toilet paper.

Jase and Brook Lynn glowed as they floated down the aisle together, hand in hand, now man and wife.

West offered Jessie Kay his arm, and they followed after the bride and groom.

“Shame on you, Miss Dillon. The maid of honor isn't supposed to eclipse the bride, but you sure did.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You only think so because you love me.”

“I know so because I have eyes.”

How could she
not
love this man?

They exited the sanctuary and traversed the halls, finally stepping outside where a large tent and tables were set up for the reception. The warmth of spring had arrived at last, bringing the wild strawberry patches that grew throughout the entire town to vibrant life, sweetening every inhalation. A live band already played in the corner, a soft ballad meant for lovers drifting on the air.

West pulled her onto the dance floor. “I couldn't go another moment without having you in my arms.”

“Good, because I couldn't breathe another second without being in yours.”

He chuckled against her ear, his breath warm and minty. “Are you trying to out-romance me?”

“Trying?” She gave him a pitying look and patted his cheek. “I believe I just succeeded, sugar bear.”

“Well, I'm not worried. I have a lifetime to redeem myself.”

* * *

“Y
OU
CAN
DO
IT
,
sis!” Brook Lynn shouted from the bleachers. “I'm so proud of you!”

Jessie Kay took her place, ready to begin the second half of her first indoor soccer game. She'd trained with the best, and was finally showing off her new skills. She was a striker—a goal maker, baby! The money shots! Not that she'd made any today. Boo! Hiss!

West had started a new coed team just for her. A wedding gift, he'd said, because really, he could deny her nothing.

From across the field, he winked at her. She winked back, her heart so full she thought it might burst. He'd given her the world. A family of her own. A business that had already become a major success, thanks in part to his advertising. And contentment like she'd never known.

“Kill them!” Harlow called, and Jessie Kay gave her a thumbs-up. “Kill them dead!”

Harlow had had her baby. Babies, actually. Twins! The most beautiful humans ever, as suspected. Two little girls. Kresley Cast and Roxanne Monroe, after four of Harlow's favorite romance authors.

Speaking of babies, Brook Lynn was pregnant with her first child.

A buzzer sounded, and players burst into action and...it wasn't long before West had possession of the ball! And, oh, crap—
I mean, yay
—he was headed her way. He kicked it in her direction.

She dodged the guard at her side and stopped the roll of the ball with a slide of her foot, then turned, taking the ball with her to avoid the slashing foot of another player who'd come in hot.

What do you know?
I'm kind of awesome
.

She dribbled her way down the field without wheezing, while West knocked anyone who approached her into the wall. The goalie was waiting for her, shifting from side to side. Her heart rate increased as a serious case of nerves overtook her. The score was 0 to 0, and the thought of tying her first game kind of sucked. She would prefer to annihilate the other team, but she'd settle for a one-up victory.

She kicked the ball with all her might, held her breath—watched as it went flying back onto the field, blocked by the goalie. The goalie who smirked at her.

She gave him the finger.

West patted her butt. “You're amazing, kitten. Keep it up.”

“Amazing? I missed.”

“Even I have missed. Once.” He smiled at her and gave her a push toward the ball now being dribbled toward Jase, their goalie. “Be ready. I'll win our ball and you'll try again.” Off he went.

He did indeed steal the ball for her and oh, was he glorious while he did it. He passed it to her, and she again tried to score a goal—only to fail.

Dang it! Frustration jabbed at her temper but she refused to react. She kept playing, even throwing herself into big, beefy bodies whenever necessary.

Finally, only two minutes remained. They were down to the wire, the score still 0 to 0. West had the ball. Part of her wanted to shout at him to take the shot himself, but she went ahead and bodychecked him, stealing it from him before he had the opportunity to pass it her way, if that had been his plan. Saved time. Maybe. Probably. Okay, not really. Whatever.

Just like before, the goalie shifted from side to side, waiting. Jessie Kay breathed deeply as she headed toward him. What would West do in a situation like this?

Kick ass.

She faked left, spun and kicked with her right leg, sending the ball flying. This was it, the moment of truth—

Score!

The ball collided with net. The goalie dropped to his knees, despondent as the buzzer sounded.

Joy spiraled through her and a second later, she found herself being twirled around.

“You did it,” West said. “You won the game.”

She clung to him, wrapping her legs around him, smiling and laughing, crazy in love.

“We'll go all the way to the championship,” he said.

“Uh, hold on there, sugar bear. I played and won a game. I'm good now. I quit.”

He set her on her feet. “You're done? All that work and you're done? Just like that?”

“Yeah. I'm going out on top.” She fist-pumped the sky. “Because I rock! Now I want to stop exercising and concentrate on my sugar intake—and making our babies.”

“Way to bury the lead,” he said and barked out a laugh. “You are one of a kind, Jessie Kay. One of a kind. And I would be honored to make those babies with you. Want to start in the locker room or wait till we get home?”

They still lived at her house for now, but as soon as his place—their place—near the farmhouse was done, they'd be moving in there. In fact, he'd let her look over the plans and make as many changes as she'd wanted.

“Home,” she said, “but only because I want to hear you shout my name.”

“You're going to insist I call you by your full name again, aren't you? Jessica Kay West.”

“Well, it's an
awesome
name.”

He grinned at her. “Have I told you how happy you make me?”

“You have. You've also told me I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you.”

“You are. Which is why I love you and I like you. And kitten, I want you and I need you. Also, I'm going to have to punish you for knocking me down.”

“I'm looking forward to it.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
THE ONE YOU WANT
by Gena Showalter.