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“Two female officers, Dempsey. Have you heard from Sloane? I have this sick feeling it was her.”
There aren’t a lot of female officers in the Park Mountain PD. Sloane told me they’re the only two women who go on patrol. The rest are men.
It’s her.
It’s fucking her.
“No,” I hiss, panic clawing at my throat and making it hard for me to breathe. “This can’t be fucking happening.” I know it’s a fruitless effort, but I race to my phone to call Sloane. No answer. “No!”
“What do we do?” Gemma asks, bottom lip trembling.
“Hospital,” I grunt. “Let’s go.”
I snag the keys from her and bolt out the front door with my sister on my heels. We break every speed limit and traffic law on the way there. I park our massive boat in a fire lane, not bothering to take the keys out of the ignition. Since Gemma isn’t right behind me anymore, I imagine she’s dealing with the car for me.
“Two officers,” I bark out to the receptionist. “Where were they taken?”
“Sir,” the woman with a name tag that reads “Candace” says, “slow down. Who is it you’re looking for?”
“Sloane Thurman. I need to know if this officer was brought in.”
The woman’s features scrunch. “I, uh, let me see.”
She taps away on the computer and then gives me a grim look.
“What?” I demand.
“Perhaps you should have a seat in the waiting room.”
“What? No. I want to know where Sloane is!”
She leans forward and whispers, “I can confirm she was brought in and is being prepped for surgery. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can offer right now.”
I stumble back, the breath leaving my lungs. Prepping for surgery. She was shot. My fucking girlfriend was shot. I tug at my hair, attempting to keep the terror from consuming me. Gemma arrives, eyes darting back and forth in question.
“She’s been shot, Gem. She’s in surgery.”
My sister bursts into tears. “Call Mom and Dad.”
It’s been what feels like hours. Gemma and my parents sit together nearby, but I’ve taken up residence in a chair near the receptionist’s desk. I’ve been asking her for updates every five minutes. I know I’m driving her crazy, but she’s at least trying to help. I notice Dad speaking to the police chief, Tanaka, and have the urge to pummel that fucker’s face.
Since I don’t know anything or who’s responsible, I’m forced to sit still, waiting for any news whatsoever.
“Sir,” Candace, the receptionist, says to me. “They say she’s out of surgery now and in recovery. You should be able to see her soon.”
Thank fuck.
My eyes well with tears as relief floods through me. I blink my eyes furiously to keep from full-on sobbing. Despite Candace’s assurances, I won’t calm down until I have Sloane’s hand in mine. Until I can witness with my own two eyes that she’s alive and well.
More time ticks slowly by.
“Are you her son?” Candace asks, the phone pressed to her ear but eyes on me. “Family?”
“Her son? What the fu—No! I’m her boyfriend.”
Candace frowns. “But not family?”
Are you fucking kidding me right now?
