Chapter 11

Just as I picked up my phone to call the police to find out what was going on, Jett entered my room, followed by two police officers, a male and a female. "The police want to speak with you about what happened last night."

"Um, sure, I guess."

"Hi, Zara," the woman said. "My name is Sergeant Campbell, and this is Sergeant Brown."

"Hi," I said nervously.

"Your friend here said that you would be up to speak with us about what happened last night."

"Yeah, that's fine." I glared at Jett, wishing I had telepathic abilities so I could let him know he should have given me some warning.

"Good. Well, we won't take up much of your time," she said. "The security company have informed us that your system was inactive at the time of the incident, and they couldn't find any evidence to suggest tampering. Do you remember setting the alarm before you went to bed?"

I was supposed to set the alarm? Dad hadn't mentioned that. "No, sorry. I don't remember."

"That's okay. Do you remember anything about the burglar you encountered last night?"

"I'm sorry. What?" I asked.

Campbell furrowed her eyebrows. "You interrupted an intruder last night in your lounge room."

I shook my head. "No. Someone came into my bedroom and shot me."

Sergeant Brown glanced at Jett. "You were found downstairs. You-"

"Ah, no. It happened in here, right where you're standing."

They looked at the floor as if expecting to see bloodstains or some other evidence.

Campbell knelt to study the carpet. "I'm sorry, but I don't see any blood here."

It suddenly occurred to me that I hadn't seen any bloodstains on the carpet when I'd gotten up to go to the bathroom, and it would've been impossible for someone to clean up the mess overnight. As much as I knew it was going to hurt, I had to see for myself. Gritting my teeth, I rolled over and checked the floor. The carpet was clean. "But..." I looked up at them, hoping they'd come up with a reason why there were no stains on the carpet.

Campbell gave me a pitying look. "Maybe we should come back later when you've had some time to remember what happened."

"No!" I shouted as they turned to leave. "I remember what happened."

"We were first on the scene, and we found you downstairs," Sergeant Campbell said. "We've already searched your house, and there was no evidence to say you were shot in your room, or anywhere else in the house, for that matter."

"But..." I shook my head, trying to work out how my memory could be so wrong.

"That's okay, miss. Sometimes this happens with trauma victims." Sergeant Brown pulled a card out of his pocket and put it on my nightstand. "You can call us when your memory comes back."

"But I remember what he looked like."

Sergeant Campbell shook her head with a sorrowful expression. "We can't use any description you have of the assailant if your memory of the event is conflicting with the evidence."

I sat there, too shocked to say anything more. I remembered the attack as clear as day, but they were right. There was no blood on the carpet, walls, or bed sheets. I did have a tendency to sleepwalk, so maybe my whole memory was nothing more than a dream. And for all I knew, I could've let the intruder in myself.

"I'm sorry. I know this must be hard to hear," Sergeant Campbell said. "Maybe you should try seeing a counsellor to help you." She looked over to Jett, who gave her a slight nod. "We'll let you know if we have any further information for you."

"Wait!" I yelled as they neared the door. "Please don't contact my father about this."

The look on their faces was exactly what I expected. I was sure they didn't get that type of request often. But they didn't know my father. He would have sounded sincerely distraught when they told him, but then I'd have to deal with his anger over how stupid I was to confront a burglar. But that wouldn't have been the worst of it. Seeing him not give a damn wasn't something I ever wanted to go through again. I didn't need that reminder that he didn't love me. One time, I was so sick that every movement made me throw up. My father knowingly left me lying in my own vomit for days without medical attention just so he could attend one of his precious business conferences. If it wasn't for my cousin Jessica coming around to see where I was and why I wasn't returning her calls, I would probably have died.

"You're not a minor, so we have no authority to inform him against your wishes," Sergeant Campbell said.

I nodded. "I don't want him to know."

"Right." Sergeant Campbell glanced at her partner, probably wondering why a teenager wouldn't want her parent knowing she'd been shot. "I hope you get better soon."

"Thank you," I said.

When Jett started to walk them out, Sergeant Brown said, "We can see ourselves out if you want to stay with Zara."

"Thanks," Jett replied. He waited until they had left before sitting on my bed beside me. "Maybe they were right, and you should see a-"

"If you're going to say I need a shrink, then you can save it. I'm not crazy."

He glanced at the floor. "I didn't say you were."

"Good."

He shook his head. "You really don't want to tell your father?"

"Nope."

He drew his eyebrows together as he studied my face. "Okay. If he calls the house, I won't say anything."

"If he calls the house you probably shouldn't pick up. Actually, just don't answer the home phone at all."

He shrugged. "Whatever you say."

I huffed. "What are you doing here, Jett?"

"Talking to you."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, if you really don't want me around, I can organise a home nurse, but then there'd be a strange transaction on your bill that your father might want you to explain."

My dad had never questioned my bill, but then, I'd never had to pay for a nurse, either. And as stupid as it sounded, it wasn't a risk I was willing to take.

Later that afternoon, I heard hushed whispers coming from downstairs, but I couldn't work out who the other person was or what he was saying. I so badly wanted to go see, but I couldn't even manage to get up to go to the toilet. And boy, did I need to pee!

The voices went away after about twenty minutes. I expected Jett to come check on me, offer me some water or something-but no. Some home help he turned out to be. The pain in my bladder became unbearable, but there was no way I was going to call Jett and ask for help with that.

I peeled off the sheets and managed to sit up without too much pain. The next part was going to be the hardest. I eased my legs to the side and onto the floor, then leaned forward and slowly pushed myself off the bed. For a second, I thought I was going to crash to the floor, but I managed to steady myself in time.

I edged toward the bathroom, taking teeny-tiny steps as I winced in pain. I must have looked like a complete idiot, and I hoped Jett didn't come back before I was back in bed.

Finally managing to get to the toilet, I ran into my next problem-getting my panties off. No matter how tempting it would've been to have Jett undress me, having him help me go to the loo was not what I had in mind.

Gradually, I slid my knickers down and tilted my body backward until my ass was on the toilet seat. I sighed with relief as I let my bladder go. After what felt like ten minutes of peeing, I realised that I had to get to the sink to wash my hands before I could go back to bed.

I leaned forward and pulled up my panties. "Fuck," I said through gritted teeth. The last thing I wanted was for Jett to hear me cursing and rush into save me and come face to face with my hoo-ha in a not-so-desirable way.

Carefully, I shuffled over to the sink. Reaching out to turn on the tap almost made me scream. I washed my hands as quickly as possible. Not bothering to dry them, I turned, still bent over, and headed for the door. As I exited the bathroom, I came face to face with a stomach-an oh-so-sexy shirtless stomach with a six-pack. Cringing, I looked up and saw Jett grinning at me.

"Need some help?" he asked with a laugh.

I wanted to die. How much had he seen? And why the hell hadn't he let me know he was there? "No."

He stood to the side to let me pass, but I wasn't going anywhere. My shuffling was much more shameful than asking for help.

"Okay."

A quizzical look came over his face. "Okay what?"

I knew he was only mocking me, and I so wasn't in the mood for his playfulness. My chest was aching, and all I wanted to do was get back to bed and sleep for the next three days. I looked up into his deep brown eyes, pleading with him to not make me have to say it.

"Okay, okay. I'll help you back to bed." He gently swept me up into his arms.

I winced and let out a little gasp.

"Sorry."

Yeah, I wasn't. The pain was completely worth it. My tank top had crept up, and all I could think about was the fact that my bare stomach and hips were touching his rock-hard naked chest. He carried me through my bedroom then carefully laid me on my bed. He looked down at my body for a second too long before covering me with the sheet. I thought I saw lust in his eyes, but he looked away before I could be sure.

Again I wanted to slap myself for being so pathetic. How could I be thinking about him like that when I had just been shot?

"How's your chest?" Jett asked, reaching for the gauze on my chest.

I slapped my hand over my bandage then sucked in a sharp breath at the pain even that slight movement had just induced. It was silly really because I didn't give two hoots that he was about to put his hands all over me. Actually, I would've loved to know what his hands running over my body would feel like, but I didn't want him to think I was that kind of girl. I had morals-at least that was what I kept telling myself-but I was seriously starting to doubt it when it came to the boy standing over me.

Jett laughed. "Relax. I just need to make sure it's not infected."

I gave him a warning glare to let him know that feeling me up was not okay.

He carefully removed half the gauze and took a look. "All good."

"I want to see," I said.

He paused as if trying to decide if it was okay if I saw my own wound. I shoved his hand out of the way and peeled the gauze the rest of the way back. I expected to see a fresh ugly hole, a whole lot of bruising, and maybe some dried blood, but the area was clean, and the mark looked as though the shooting had happened more like a week ago instead of less than twenty-four hours.

"Are you sure I haven't been unconscious for a week?"

He smiled. "You were expecting more?"

I glanced up at him. "Um... yeah."

"Well, have you ever been shot before?"

"No."

"Then how do you know what it's meant to look like?"

I knew he was dodging my question, but he was also right. All I had to go on was what I had seen on TV and in movies, and they didn't usually show the detail of the recovery. But I still thought there should've been more gore.

"Exactly," he said when I didn't reply. Jett walked over to the door. "I'm going to order some takeaway. Is pizza okay with you?"

"Whatever." I turned my head to face the wall to let him know that two could play it that way. If he wanted to ignore me, then I was going to do the same to him. I heard soft footsteps on the carpet as he walked down the hall.

The next hour, I tried my hardest to fall asleep, but it was useless. I tried to remember if there were any more details of the shooting, but all I could recall was the cold hard stare of the man. Once I'd been shot, everything went hazy. But even that memory might not be true.

Jett returned, carrying three pizza boxes and a DVD on top. "We've got barbeque meat lover's, seafood sensation, and super supreme."

He put the boxes down on the end of the bed and walked over to my TV.

I read the title as he pulled out the disk: Fast and Furious. "What are you doing?"

Ignoring my question, he put the DVD into the player. "Now, I know you're probably one of those chicks who always want to watch romantic comedies, but I'm sure you don't want me falling asleep with you."

I wasn't so sure. That could be the highlight of my evening. But then again, did I really want to spend the night with the son of a drug lord in bed with me? "You're watching a movie with me? Don't you have anything better to do on a Saturday night?" Like selling drugs for Daddy.

"Nope." He climbed onto the bed beside me as if it were his bed, not mine. "I'm all yours."

Oh, God. If only that were true. Looking at him sitting there beside me made me forget all about who his father was. The confidence that radiated from him was enough to make me desire to fulfil his every want and need.

"You all right?" he asked.

I shook my thoughts away, pretending I hadn't just been staring at his fine form. "Make yourself comfortable, why don't you."

Ignoring my sarcastic comment, he leaned forward and pulled the pizza boxes onto his lap. He opened each and placed them between us in a line down the bed. "Which one do you want first?"

"I think I can get my own pizza."

"Fine. Don't say I didn't offer." He picked up a slice with one hand and the remote with the other then pressed Play.

God, I felt like an idiot. The pain caused by reaching out to pick up a slice was ridiculous.

After I finished the slice, Jett picked up the box and held it out to me.

I sucked up my pride and mumbled, "Thanks," before taking another slice. I devoured that one then took him up on his offer of a third.

We sat back and watched the movie. Well, Jett saw far more of it than I did. I was too focused on his body beside mine to concentrate on anything else. I didn't understand why he was there looking after me and why he felt so at ease in my house, not to mention his almost cocky demeanour.

As I studied him, I thought back to that day under the bridge. Had it really been Jett I had seen? The boy next to me certainly didn't have black eyes, and he most definitely didn't have gills on his neck.

"Are you one of those people who can free dive?" I blurted.

"What?" His eyes remained focused on the TV, and I would've thought nothing of it except he tensed ever so slightly.

I thought about telling him to forget I'd said anything, but because I had already started, I may as well have continued. "You know, those people who can stay underwater for twenty minutes or so?"

"No. Why? Can you?"

"Ah, no." Okay, so he probably thought I was an idiot. Maybe I should've just shut up.

A phone buzzed. Jett reached inside his pocket and retrieved his phone. He looked at the screen, typed something, then hopped out of bed. "I'll be back in a sec."

I wanted to get out of bed and follow him downstairs, but I would probably fall flat on my face and need rescuing again. Actually, that didn't sound like a bad idea-if I were desperate, which I kept telling myself I wasn't.

I heard muffled voices downstairs. I picked up the remote and tried to mute the TV but accidentally changed the channel instead. The screen showed Jett standing with his back to the camera. I'd had no idea that the surveillance system was connected to my TV.

Jett's body blocked most of whoever else was down in our lounge room. I turned up the volume, but the system apparently didn't include microphones, so I had to settle for just watching.

Jett pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to the other person. The guy gave Jett something that looked an awful lot like a wad of cash, which Jett quickly pocketed.

"The fucker's selling drugs in my house!"

Slender fingers wrapped around Jett's arm, then a girl came into view as she stood on her tip-toes and kissed him. The camera angle kept me from seeing whether the kiss landed on his cheek or his lips. But that didn't matter. I felt as if I'd been sucker punched, and I didn't know why. Jett wasn't mine, and from the way he backed up after the quick peck, he didn't seem that into her.

Jett turned, keeping his hand on her waist, and ushered her toward the door. Even that small gesture made my blood boil so much so that I almost forgot about the illegal exchange that had gone down in my living room.

After she left, Jett disappeared from the camera's view, and I heard him trotting up the stairs. I quickly changed the channel back to the movie so he wouldn't know I had been spying on him.

"Sorry about that." He took up his previous spot on the bed as if he had done nothing more than go to the loo. "Did I miss anything?"

"Who were you talking to downstairs?" Asking a drug lord about his dealings probably wasn't one of my better ideas, but I couldn't help it. The jealous bitch that seemed to have taken up residence inside me couldn't let it lie.

"It was my cousin. I had something of hers she needed tonight."

Well, he didn't lie about the fact that the visitor had been a girl, so maybe she was his cousin. Cousins kissed each other on the cheek. But if she had just come over to get something of hers, then why had she handed him money? I thought about changing the channel on the TV so he would know that I'd seen everything that went down, but I decided it probably wasn't a good idea to let a drug dealer know that someone had footage of their dealings. Besides, if he was going to receive any other visitors, as horrible and unethical as it was, I wanted to snoop. I needed to know more about Jett, and for someone who seemed so relaxed, he was keeping a hell of a secret that I wanted in on.

"No, you didn't miss much," I finally said. "You know, just some shooting and car chases-the usual." I really had no idea what he had missed, but I was pretty sure those things were a given.

I pretended to be engrossed in the movie so I didn't have to worry about idle chitchat and the possibility I might shoot off my mouth about what I'd seen.

Biting down on my lip, I wriggled down so I waslying flat on my back, and before long, I drifted off to sleep.