Judge & Jury - James Patterson [61]
“Jesus, Nick, what’s wrong?”
I swung away from her, propping myself against the wall. “Something ran into me today . . . at the courtroom.”
Andie gently raised my shirt and came upon the large bandage. Her eyes went wide. “What happened to you?”
“A bullet happened.” I sniffed, letting out a frustrated groan.
“A bullet!” Andie didn’t seem to find that amusing. “Nick, you were shot?”
“I was. I guess I still am.”
She helped me over to the couch, where I slowly eased myself down—crumpled, actually. She gently unbuttoned the rest of my shirt. “Oh, God, Nick.”
“Truth is, it just grazed me. It actually looks worse than it feels.”
“Oh, right, I can see that,” she said, nodding. She propped up my feet on the coffee table. “You were on the way to the hospital. That’s where you were when I called. Nick, what are you doing here? What’d the doctor say?”
“He said go straight home and take it easy.” I curled a contrite smile.
“So what were you thinking that brought you here?”
“I guess I was thinking you might find it sexy. Or take pity on me?”
Andie’s incredulous stare burned a hole through me. I guess she didn’t find that funny either. She unbuttoned my shirt all the way and ran her hands across the edge of the bandage and shrugged. “I don’t know . . . maybe it is a little sexy.”
“See!”
“You’re crazy.” She took off my shoes and placed a pillow behind my head. “Can I get you anything?”
“No. I’m loaded with painkillers.” I pulled her into me. “You. I need you.”
“Oh, now I see. You catch a little drug buzz, you knock on the one door where you figure you can get something?”
I shrugged. “So? Was I right?”
She leaned forward and placed a kiss softly on my face; another kiss brushed my lips. “Maybe. A bottle of wine would’ve worked, though. You didn’t have to go and get yourself shot.”
“Damn.” I groaned, disappointed. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”
I pressed my thumb softly into the nape of her neck. “I couldn’t go home, Andie. I didn’t want to be there right now.”
She nodded, brushing the hair out of her eyes. “Just stay here. We don’t have to do anything.” She rested her head against my shoulder.
I closed my eyes, shutting out the horror of what had happened today, and my anger at watching Cavello escape. My side was aching like hell. And honestly, I didn’t know what I’d been thinking, coming here now. “Thank God,” she whispered against me, “thank God you’re okay.”
“One thing about these Mafia douche bags—they’re mean as shit, but generally, they’re poor shots.”
“Please don’t joke with me, Nick. This is very unnerving. Somebody tried to kill you.”
I shut up, and I felt a tear, her tear, land on my chest.
“Cavello’s gone,” I said. “I can’t believe it, but we don’t know where he is.”
“I know,” she whispered.
For a while we just sat there. I was starting to get woozy. Maybe from the Vicodin. Maybe from the stress of the day. “I won’t let you down, Andie. You know that, don’t you? We’ll find a way to get him. I promise, whatever it takes.”
“I know,” she said again.
This time I felt she did believe me.
Chapter 76
THE NEXT MORNING, I found myself on Andie’s couch when I woke, a quilt pulled around me, pillows under my head. I had to leave.
Andie was asleep in the bedroom. I peeked in. I was about to leave a note, but I sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked her hair. She opened her eyes.
“I’ve got to go.”
“Where?” she said, reaching for my hand from under the covers.
“I made you a promise last night. Gotta go deliver.”
Andie nodded, eyes glistening. “C’mere.”
She had a sexy, early morning voice that was proving tempting, and my side suddenly felt 100 percent better. For a second I thought about taking off my clothes and climbing into bed with her.
“I owe you one,” I said, and squeezed her back.
“One, two, three . . . whatever you want. How’s your side?”
“Better. All I needed was a little TLC.” I raised my arm. But not too far.
“What are you going to do, Nick?” She looked at me, a little more seriously.
I knew what I was going to do first. It was no longer possible