Moira Rogers: Crux

“Get back on the interstate,” he muttered. “Toward home. There’s a hospital right off I-10.” He handed over his cell phone. “Call Alec. He’s the first listing…” The phone dropped to the seat beside her, and Jackson slumped against his seatbelt.

“Shit. Shit .” She ignored the phone and fumbled at Jackson’s neck with one hand before she remembered she didn’t need to feel for a pulse. She could hear his heartbeat, weak but steady. So she turned onto the interstate and prayed like hell as she dialed Alec’s number.

“They always smell like death. Really clean death.”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve said today, Peyton, and that’s saying something.”

“Shut up . You know what I mean. Death and disinfectant.”

“Yeah, well, the place is making my skin crawl, and the smell is the least of it.”

If Jackson didn’t open his eyes, or at least his mouth, he’d have to listen to them for hours. “For the love of God. You both hate hospitals. We get it.”

By the time he lifted his scratchy eyelids, Nick was by his side, her hand closed around his. “Jackson Holt, you scared the living Christ out of me. Out of all of us.”

Hair tickled at his other hand, and he turned his head just enough to see Mackenzie slumped over the bed, her cheek on the mattress and her fingers curled just short of his.

Alec stood at the end of the bed, a tired but relieved smile on his face. He nodded to Mackenzie’s sleeping form. “I moved her into a more comfortable position once, but she woke up, said something rude and went right back to that.”

Something inside him soothed, a tension he hadn’t realized he carried. “Is she okay, or does she need to be in a bed too?”

Nick smiled gently. “She’s fine. Scrapes and a bite in her thigh. The scrapes are almost healed.”

“Good.” He glanced at Alec. “I bled in your car, didn’t I?”

“A whole hell of a lot. We’ll add that to the list of things I’m going to kick your ass for when you’re better.”

“Just remember I saved your life,” Jackson reminded him. “All of you.” That alone was worth every second of terror and pain.

Nick thumped him. “Hey, medical miracle. They’ve got more tests to run on you, since they can’t seem to find the bullet that should be lodged in your leg. But we’re going to get you out of here as soon as possible, okay?”

“Jackson?” Mackenzie lifted her head and blinked at him from behind the tangled fall of her hair. She looked exhausted and bleary, with several fading scratches on her cheek and puffy red eyes. When she saw he was awake, though, her smile lit her face.

He raised his hand to her cheek. “Kenzie. The hero of the hour.”

“I think we can share the honor.” She kissed his palm softly. “You scared me half to death when you passed out in the car.”

“Sorry.” He pulled his other hand free of Nick’s and brushed Mackenzie’s hair back. “I love you. I forgot to say that before we almost got ourselves killed.”

Her hand curled around his, and he swore he saw tears in her bright blue eyes as her trembling smile widened. “I like it better this way. I can say that I love you too, and it doesn’t feel like goodbye.”

The door slammed, and Jackson grinned, but he didn’t pull his gaze away from hers. “Nick and Alec just hauled ass out of here, didn’t they?”

“Do you really blame them?” She rose unsteadily and leaned over to kiss him. “If you were sturdier, I’d climb into bed with you.”

“If I had more blood left, I’d let you.” A tear rolled off her cheek and splashed on his pillow. “Shh. You’re free now. You don’t have to run. You could go back home.” The words left a bitter taste on his tongue, but he forced them out anyway. “You don’t have to stay.”

Mackenzie laughed and shook her head. “I’ll go back to South Dakota, but only when you’re healthy enough to go with me. Maybe you can use your investigative skills to help me if my scummy landlord has taken all my stuff because I missed paying rent. Though the only things I really want are my wardrobe and my CD collection and a few pictures.”

Relief made him weak. “If we can’t get it back, we’ll replace it all.” He wrapped a lock of her hair around his fingers and winked. “You’ll have to meet Mama.”

“Oh Jesus.” She dropped her forehead to his, and her hair fell around them in a curtain that smelled faintly of the herbs he’d used to cast the spell. “This is crazy. I don’t even know your middle name.”

“Sure you do. It’s Jackson.”

Her head popped up and she gave him a wild-eyed look. “So I don’t know your first name? That’s not helping.”

“It’s Andrew,” he told her softly. “Andrew Jackson Holt.” He waited for it to sink in before flashing her a sheepish smile. “Mama’s a Southern belle, darlin’. A real Georgia peach.”

“I guess so.” Her smile returned. “I suppose I’ll have to meet her, since I’m not planning on letting her son out of my sight again for a couple months.”

“Good.” After the last few days, holing up in his apartment with takeout menus and rented DVDs sounded like heaven. “It isn’t going to be easy.”

“What isn’t?”

“Life with me.” He shifted uncomfortably and kissed her again. “I wish I could say the last week of my life has been a unique experience, but sometimes things get dangerous.”

She studied him in silence long enough to make him nervous. Then her teeth caught her lower lip, and she tilted her head. “Guess it’s a good thing your new girlfriend has super powers.”

Jackson laughed, but his amusement faded as he remembered Charles’s words. “We need to talk to Marcus. Talbot said something about there being another kid like you two. A boy.”

“I think I heard.” She settled on the edge of the bed, one hand still wrapped around his. “But we can worry about it later. When you’re better.”

He relaxed against the thin pillow and scratchy sheets. For the first time since he’d met Mackenzie, he could envision spending his days with her with no life-or-death interruptions or ticking clock. “Maybe Nick’ll give you the next couple of months off.”

Mackenzie lifted his hand and kissed his fingers. “Nick might have to find a new bartender. I’m feeling inspired to reach for my dreams, and my dreams don’t involve mixing drinks. Not professionally, anyway.”

His heart thumped. “She’ll get over it, especially when she sees how happy you are.”

“I will be,” she whispered, and the look in her eyes promised him a future full of passion and love and laughter. “I absolutely will be.”

Jackson shifted his weight and leaned heavily on his cane. “Did you bring it?”

Nick held a brown paper bag aloft. “Exactly what Mahalia told me to get. Forgot the glasses, though.”

He snorted. “I don’t think any of us have cooties, Nicky.”

Mahalia dropped a hand on Mackenzie’s shoulder and squeezed. “Even if we do, the tequila will make short work of ’em.”

Mackenzie covered Mahalia’s hand with her own. In the weeks since Charles’s death, Jackson’s mentor had gone out of her way to make her feel welcome, not just as a member of the odd group of supernaturals who’d made her bar a second home, but as an addition to Jackson’s life.

Even so, guilt filled Mackenzie as she stared at the small, cleanly chiseled headstone. The one thing Mahalia had refused to discuss was Steven’s death, and she didn’t know how the older woman would come to terms with the part Mackenzie had played in it. It was my fault. My mistake.