"Ugh, dad," I groan, pulling away from Oliver.

I half expect him to jump up from where he's sitting- he's terrified of my dad and the man did just beat him to a pulp- but he simply wraps an arm around me casually, the other arm still behind his head.

"This isn't over, Oliver. I'm not going to let you put my daughter in another situation like that again," my dad scolds, eyeing us from across the room.

My mom walks in silently behind him. There's a small, knowing smile on her face when she sees Oliver and I.

"Whatever, dad. When can I be discharged? This hospital gown has a really uncomfortable draft if you know what I mean."

"They want to keep you another night for observation, but it looks like you'll be good to go tomorrow morning."

"We can't take her back to your house, Joe," Oliver chimes in. "In fact, none of you should be going back there. You can stay with my parents or I can put you up in one of my apartments. My men can keep a better eye on you that way."

I turn my face to look up at him. The position we're in paired with our height difference makes it a little difficult, but he shifts us so that we can face each other easier. He runs his fingers softly over the wrinkled skin between my furrowed brows, trying to ease the tension there.

"Why wouldn't they be safe?" I ask in confusion.

He turns his head to the side, looking away from me like the answer to that question is written somewhere on one of those machines. His arm around me tenses and he opens and closes his mouth a few times as he tries to find the right words.

"Jasper is still out there. I shot him, but I didn't kill him. He's down for now, but he's definitely not out for the count."

In the many times I had asked Oliver to explain what happened to me, we never discussed what ended up happening with Jasper. I should have fucking known he'd find a way to bounce back.

My mother looks terrified, but my dad... if I thought he was angry before, that was nothing compared to the silent rage brewing in his eyes now.

"How did you not kill him? Why did we even leave before you knew he was dead?" I scoff.

Oliver turns his head away from me, not wanting to show me the regret written all over his face.

"Jasper had already called for backup before we had even gotten into the room. Two of his men attacked me seconds after you had been shot. I was able to kill them and I shot Jasper in the stomach, but I had to get you and the rest of the team out of there before anyone else got hurt."

I pull away from him, torn between being appalled and disgusted.

"So your idea was to just let him get away? So he can come after us again and kill even more people? Our parents? You? As if you didn't have a big enough target on your back before?"

I punch him on the arm repeatedly, putting all my frustration with him and this situation we're in into each blow, but still being careful of his ribs. He didn't stop me though, just let me throw blow after blow until I collapsed into him, exhausted and sobbing.

"I know," he mumbles into my hair. "I know I fucked up. But I'm going to fix this. Jasper isn't going to be a problem much longer."

"I'll go deal with him right now, put an end to all of this," my dad says.

I scoff and shake my head at him.

"You're not going to do shit, dad. You're retired, remember? Just let Oliver handle it."

"She's right. There's a lot more that you guys don't know, but I can't explain it all now. I know you're one of the best, Joe, but you don't know what you're up against. He's a whole new level of depraved and fucked up."

"You have two weeks to sort this shit out."

Oliver nods at him, his expression grim.

"Now that we all agree that Jasper needs to get his shit rocked, can I take a shower?"

Everyone hovers over me as I try to stand up. I slowly swing my legs over the side of the bed, but the motion still makes me a little lightheaded. I want to swat everyone's hands away when they reach out to stabilize me. I want things to go back to normal and the sooner they stop babying me, the better.

My legs are stiff and sore from lack of use and I stumble a few times on the short walk to the bathroom, but I manage to make it without assistance. I take the small toiletry bag and stack of clothes Oliver handed me and set them on the sink.

Careful of the large bandage in the middle of my chest, I step into the shower as the water sputters on. The water pressure is complete shit but at least it's steaming hot. I can feel myself relaxing into it and before I can stop them, sobs erupt from my throat.

I place my hand quickly to my mouth to cover the sound as I sink onto my knees, letting the water burn my back as my brain finally processes everything that's happened. The weight of it all becomes too much to bear.

I was shot. My dad almost killed Oliver. I was in a coma for three days and barely made it out with my life. Jasper is still out there and wants us all dead. Oh, and Oliver almost just kissed me.

What the fuck has my life become?