His Mission (HIS SERIES Book 1) by SAKINA HUSSAIN (ebook reader library TXT) 📕

Both Ivory and Tobias' face snap towards me and Tobias whistles quietly.

"Damn, thats fucked up."

I nod and realise how messed up the whole situation is. Tobias was also involved with the gang a few years back and knew all about DC Jones.

"How can someone so evil have a daughter like Emily?" Tobias asked no-one in particular. I silently agree with him, Emily is nothing like Jones whatsoever. She is sweet, caring, loving and doesn't have a bad bone in her body whereas Jones is the complete opposite to her.

Call me cold hearted but I'm glad he's dead.

"What did the doctors say?" Ivory asks me, breaking the tense silence between us all. She sniffles and wipes her eyes and I sympathise with my cousin, knowing she treated Emily like her sister. The two became inseparable, Emily had slowly became part of the family.

"They managed to get the bullet out but they'll know more once she wakes up." I repeat the doctors words and Ivory listens intently.

"When will she wake up?" Ivory asks quietly, scared of the answer she might get. There was silence for a few moments, only the sounds of the machines beeping around us. I finally respond, my voice shaking with fear —

"I don't know."

Chapter Thirty Seven - The C word.

I'm unsure on how many days have passed.

Is it even days? Maybe it's been weeks.

It feels like long dragged out years.

I sigh heavily and rub my eyes forcing them to stay awake. I haven't left her side, only to shower and get a change of clothes. I spend every night clutching her hand tightly and making do with the uncomfortable chair next to her bed. I'd been sat on it for so long, my arse has definitely left an imprint on the murky brown leather.

My eyes are heavy, hours of spending long nights and days awake by her bedside praying for her to wake up. The dark circles underneath my eyes are obvious and my face is drawn in, pale and ghostly.

I can't eat and I definitely can't sleep. I'm a living zombie, watching the world go by whilst my own seemed to be one big blur.

How could I possibly sleep when every time I close my eyes the gunshot would echo loudly?

It would play continuously on a loop like some sick horror movie that's purpose was to torture. The door opens and Emily's doctor, Doctor Green walks in. He nods in my direction, giving me a warm smile as he usually does.

"Any more news?" I ask the doctor as he does his usual daily checks. Every day I ask the same question and every day the response would be the exact same. . . No change yet.

The doctor looks at me sympathetically and shakes his head causing my disappointment to deepen.

"It's up to her when she chooses to wake up Mr Melvin. The coma that she's in is caused by the amount of blood she lost. She'll wake up when her brain is ready to do so." Dr Green says, writing something down in his files.

Will she still be the same Emily?

Will she be able to walk, talk and laugh like she once did?

If I had just moved an inch and stood in front of her shielding her from the bullet, things would have been so different. It would be me lying in the hospital bed, completely unresponsive. Dr Green glances in my direction —

"Why don't you go home and get some rest Jake?"

His words are spoken softer this time, holding more sympathy. I shake my head in response.

"I need to be here for when she wakes up, I can't leave her."

Dr Green nods, knowing he's wasting his time convincing me to go home. He clears his throat before leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind him. I'm left alone with Emily once again.

Just me, her and the steady beeps of her heartbeat.

I stand and lifted her arm up gently before tucking myself in beside her. I drape my arm over her stomach and breathe in her warm scent, the only thing that has calmed me down these days. I lie next to her when I'm feeling desperate and right now, I'm desperate.

Guilt is eating me up alive and seeing her lie here day in, day out only makes me feel worse. I feel defeated watching her knowing I can't do anything to help. I sometimes talk to her, when I'm feeling lonely and miss the sound of her voice. I talk to her about silly things, the football or her favourite cooking show. She'd lie there unresponsive but I'd like to think she's listening to me, absorbing my words slowly.

I tenderly kiss her cheek, letting my lips linger on her soft skin. The longing to have her own lips react and kiss me back is too much and I inhale deeply, blinking away the tears. It becoming harder and harder to keep myself together and I'm worried that when she does finally wake up, I won't be strong enough for her. My hand clutches hers and I squeeze

it before burying my head closer to her.

"Muffin, please wake up." I whisper, my tone begging and desperate.

"I'll let you eat out of the Nutella jar every single day if that's what you want. We'll both watch The Titanic together and I won't make fun of you when you cry. I'll take you out to the fanciest restaurant in town and we can have a proper date. I won't ruin it this time, I promise. I'll wear a suit and we'll take you shopping to find the most beautiful dress because you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. Maybe we'll get you one of them ones with a split up the side, you'd look so good Muffin. I don't think we'd even make it to