There’s a deafening ringing in my ears.
Heat licks at my skin, and the world is a haze around me. For a moment, I just lie here, my mind trying to make sense of what happened. There’s no pain. No time seems to pass. And then—it slams into me, and every nerve might as well be on fire.
I try to push up off the ground, but pain shoots up through my wrist, and I cry out, falling back down to the ground.
Every muscle in my body is screaming—and then I see him.
Lying on his stomach, eyes closed, face bloody. “Sawyer!” I scream his name, but with the ringing in my ears, it might as well be a whisper. Unable to get up, I crawl to him, scraping against the asphalt as I do. Debris surrounds us.
There’s a piece of metal over his legs, so I throw it to the side using my good arm. “Sawyer!” I shake him, urging him to wake up…but he doesn’t move.
Smoke curls around us, carrying off from the pieces of Sawyer’s shop still on fire. The stench of it fills my lungs, and I cough. Frantic, I search for his pulse. Dear God, please don’t let him be dead. Please, God.
My shoulders shake with the force of my tears. But then, I finally feel the steady thumping of his life against my fingertips. “Thank You, Lord.” I collapse down next to him, my body giving out.
“Please wake up,” I cry as I reach forward and brush my fingers against his face.
Sirens wail in the distance.
Overhead, Weston’s face comes into view. He’s yelling at me. Screaming, but I can’t hear anything. He reaches down and pulls me away from Sawyer.
I fight, thrashing against his hold. “No! I don’t want to leave him!”
But then I see Ryker. He reaches down and lifts Sawyer’s limp body, carrying him farther away from the shop—right before a second explosion levels what was left.
Sawyer is the only reason I’m alive.
How he survived is a complete and utter miracle. We were thrown from the building, landing just a few yards from my shop, and then the second explosion sent even more debris raining down on us.
It shattered my back windows.
Weston and Ryker had thankfully not been far when it happened, or who knows whether or not we would have survived. Sawyer’s shop certainly didn’t.
My gaze levels on where he’s lying, unconscious, in a hospital bed. The rhythmic beat of his heart is proof that he’s alive, but I won’t believe it until I see his eyes. Those gorgeous, caramel-colored eyes that hold so much warmth.
Please come back to me.
My wrist is broken and currently wrapped until the swelling goes down enough for them to cast it. I also suffered a concussion and bruising over a good portion of my body. But I’m alive—all because of him.
Sawyer wasn’t so lucky. The force of the explosion at his back broke two ribs and collapsed one of his lungs. He also has a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and mild burns on the back of his neck.
How it wasn’t worse, no one can explain.
Except, I can. Because God.
He was there with us, shielding Sawyer from death, despite the fact that the explosion was strong enough to completely level Sawyer’s shop and everything inside. Every vehicle—destroyed. All of his equipment—gone. Even his motorcycle was in pieces, according to what Zane told me earlier.
Tears slip down my cheeks, and I lean forward, taking his battered hand in mine and pressing a kiss to the top. My brother and the others are back at the shop, talking to the police. Katelyn picked up Axel and took him over to my mom’s house, where he’ll stay until Sawyer is released to go home. Because I’m not leaving his side until then.
The door opens. I’m expecting my mom back from the cafeteria, so when Jack walks in, I’m completely unprepared. His gaze widens on me, then darkens when he sees that I’m all but clinging to Sawyer’s hand.
Seeing him standing there brings a fresh wave of emotion over me. Because even though things didn’t work out, I care for Jack.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I keep Sawyer’s hand in mine, not wanting to let go even for a second.
“How are you?”
