Full Contact (Worth the Fight #2) - Sidney Halston Page 0,96

unit’s waiting area, which was basically just a small group of chairs near the nurses’ station. The ICU beds, for easy access in case of emergency, were not in discrete rooms but just separated from one another and from the nurses’ station by curtains for privacy.

Seated in one of the chairs, they found Chrissy looking at something on her phone.

“How’s he doing?” Jessica asked.

“Same,” Chrissy said. “The doctor emailed me his chart. I’m reviewing it.”

“Christine Martin, meet my parents. Thomas and Shannon Cross.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. and Mrs. Cross.”

“Likewise. My daughter’s told me about you. You’re her new little friend, aren’t you?” Mrs. Cross said. Chrissy nodded politely and then went back to her phone.

“Honey, you still haven’t told us what’s going on. Who’s hurt?” her father said.

“Slade Martin. Chrissy’s brother.”

“Okay…,” her mother said, clearly waiting for more information.

“He’s—he’s someone very special. Someone…” Her chin quivered and her throat closed up. “He’s in a coma.”

“How did he end up like that?” her father asked.

But before she could answer, a nurse came out and called to Chrissy. “He’s waking up. Come on.”

Chrissy gave Jessica an anxious smile and followed the nurse back to Slade’s bed.

It was the longest thirty minutes of Jessica’s life before Chrissy walked back out looking relieved.

“He’s awake,” she told Jessica. “He’s confused, but he’s awake and talking a little.”

“Can I see him?” Jessica asked.

Chrissy grabbed hold of Jessica’s hand. “Sweetie, I’m going to have to say no. I’m sorry, but he’s been through a lot. I don’t want to upset him, and the way you two left things, he doesn’t know the whole story yet. So give me some time to explain it to him, and if he wants to see you, I’ll let you know.”

As Chrissy was talking, Francesca came in, followed by Travis, Jamie Lynn, Cain, and Tony, who all gave Jessica a hug. Except for Francesca and Cain, the rest of the group were all tattooed and pierced. When her parents saw the group, they gasped.

“Jessica Ann Cross, who are these people and what kind of hoodlums are you associating with these days?”

“Mom, please! Keep your voice down. The patients can probably hear you, and you are being disrespectful. These are my friends.” Her chin quivered. “Well, they were.”

“No, darlin’, we are your friends. Jack explained what you did for Slade, and we really do appreciate it,” Travis said.

Jamie Lynn came forward and gave Jessica a big hug, “I knew it!” she squealed. “You came back. I just knew you would.”

Tony and Cain both nodded at Jessica. She knew that, coming from them, a nod meant as much as a hug.

“Chrissy, please go tend to Slade. I understand why you wouldn’t want me around. I am sorry. Really sorry. Please tell him that.”

“Does that man inside look anything like these people? I certainly did not raise you to consort with the likes of them,” her mother sniffed.

“Mother! I will not have you speaking to my friends this way.”

“Dennis would never have allowed you to associate with people like this,” Mrs. Cross scolded. “You’ve been out of control since he left you. Honestly, Jessica, if you were parading around town with these people”—she spat the word—“no wonder Dennis dumped you.”

Her mother had always been judgmental, but those were the most hurtful words Jessica had ever heard from her.

“Mother! Stop it this instant! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Her father gave her a look. “Don’t raise your voice at your mother, Jessica. And don’t use foul language.”

“I am a grown-ass woman, Daddy, and I have had enough. These people”—she pointed at her friends—“helped me when I needed it most. That man—the man you have yet to meet but are already judging, the man that I love—saved my life twice.” She held out two fingers. “His name is Slade Martin, and he’s wonderful and perfect and has the biggest tattoo you have ever seen. And guess what—it doesn’t fucking matter!” Her voice cracked and tears ran down her face, but she continued to yell at her parents. “For your information, your beloved Dennis beat me to within an inch of my life. Look at this!” She pointed to the scar on her jaw. “It’s my daily reminder of what that monster did to me. I was in the hospital for over a week. Remember when I emailed you and told you I was going on a last-minute getaway? It wasn’t a getaway. I was in the hospital recovering from broken ribs, a

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