“Jack—”
“Was great.” I close my eyes. “He said he thinks the explosion at Sawyer’s might be connected to those phone calls I’ve been getting.”
“Oh, honey, that doesn’t make it your fault.” She reaches out and rubs my back.
“I need him to be okay, Mom.”
“I know you do, honey.”
“We’d been arguing right when it happened. He’d just told me that he and Zane went to see Jack.”
“They were trying to keep you safe.”
“I know that.” My throat burns as I fight to keep the tears at bay. “What if I don’t get the chance to tell him that I understand?”
“You will.” She leans down and hugs me.
“How do you know?”
“Because that boy has been chasing after you for seven years. He’s not going to let anything keep you from him now.”
“Zane and I needed to eliminate the one person we thought it might be, so we took a little trip.”
A wave of anger pushes through me as I realize just what he’s saying. I stop walking and glare at him. “You did not go to Georgia. Tell me you didn’t, Sawyer.”
He smiles at me, that boyish grin that makes it near impossible to be mad at him. “I would. But that would be a lie.” After unlocking his door, he shoves it open and steps aside so I can go in first.
How could he do that? Especially without telling me?
“Sawyer, you have got to be kidding me!” I turn to face him.
He’s gone completely still, every muscle in his body hard and at alert. Everything seems to slow down to a crawl.
“Move!” he yells, grabbing me.
I don’t even have time to react before he’s spinning me and throwing me outside, then covering my body with his.
The explosion hits Sawyer and throws us forward. Pain explodes in every single inch of my body, the blast echoing in my ears before I even fully understand what’s happening.
Pain.
Darkness.
Fire.
Headlights coming up too fast.
Screeching tires.
Twisted metal.
So much blood.
I come awake quickly, the twisted nightmare consisting of the two worst nights of my life still echoing in my mind as I do. It takes me just a moment to realize that I’m sitting beside a hospital bed, my head lying on Sawyer’s battered hand. Which is currently squeezing mine.
Tears flood my eyes, and I stand up, leaning over his bed to stare into his gorgeous eyes.
“Hey, baby,” he says, voice a gravelly whisper.
