“For what?” he snaps back, and I have to roll my eyes. He’s been in love with her for ages.
“Sierra,” I reply, sitting down, the adrenaline from today finally wearing off, “she’s been shot.”
“What?” His boots thump on the ground like he’s running.
“I’m at her house, man. I don’t know.” I look out the window at the blue sky. “Got here when they were loading her into the ambulance. Caleb told me to call Lilah so she can call her parents.”
“On it,” he replies and disconnects. I look at the phone for a second before getting up. The bloody man is gone, and so are most of the officers. One is looking around, and the other is still taking pictures with his camera. I head for the front door and see there is yellow tape across it with an officer standing guard outside.
I bend to go under the tape. “Thanks,” I say. There are only two police cars left now. I jog to my truck and drive to the hospital.
I rush into the emergency entrance and find Caleb talking to Burke. He is now dressed in a hospital gown.
“Hey.” I hand him the black shirt I took from his bedroom.
“Thanks.” He takes it and turns back to Burke. “From what I understand, Fiona is her birth mother, and Carl is . . .” He hesitates as Carl steps out of the swinging door. His shirt also has blood on it, and his face is enraged as he scans the area and comes toward us.
“She’s in surgery,” he states. “Where is he?”
“He’s being checked out, and then he’s going to be booked,” Burke answers. “You did a number on him.”
“He’s alive,” Carl retorts. “He’s lucky.”
“How about I forget you just said that,” Burke says. “I have some questions for you.” Burke turns back to Caleb. “I’ll see you before I leave.”
He walks away with Carl, and I look at Caleb. “Dude, what is happening? Is Sierra okay?”
“They’re operating on her now.” He stares down at his shoes and then looks up at me with tears in his eyes. “I’ve never been more scared in my entire life,” he admits. He tells me the whole sordid story, about Sierra’s complicated family situation and how it led to her getting hurt. My mind races as I take it all in.
“I’m sure she’s going to be fine.” I put my arm around his shoulders. “And in no time she’s going to be home, telling you she doesn’t want you living with her anymore,” I joke with him. “Then you’ll be telling me I have to move out so you can have the house back.” He forms a weary half smile.
“If she thinks I’m going to leave her side now”—he shakes his head—“she’s sadly mistaken.”
“Go and get yourself changed,” I tell him. “I’ll see if I can get you something to drink. A coffee, maybe.” I get up with him as I look around for a vending machine. “She’s going to be okay,” I assure him as the worry sets on his face. “Lilah called her parents. They are on their way.”
“Thanks, man.” He stops when Burke makes his way back over to us.
“Caleb, I have some questions for you.”
“I’ll get that coffee and see if they have an update,” I tell him, and he nods, knowing I’ll do what I need to do in order to get the information for him.
I go through the swinging doors. Walking down the white hallway, I see three rooms on each side, and it opens up to a desk in the middle of the space. My eyes catch on her at the end of the desk. Her head is bent as she writes something, and my feet move before my head can tell me it’s a bad idea.
“Collins.” Her head shoots up, her blue-gray eyes staring into mine, and just like that night by the side of the road, I can’t help but smile at her. “Hey.”
CHAPTER THREE
COLLINS
I’m writing down my notes on the incident report, which I have to hand over to the hospital before I can leave.
“Collins.” The second I hear the voice, I know it’s him. My eyes fly up to see he’s walking toward me. The stubble on his cheek is a bit longer than it was when we first met nine weeks ago. Even his hair, which was almost in a buzz cut back then, has grown out. His eyes, which were green that night, now look like they are a dark gray. His upper lip is perfectly heart shaped. I glance around to make sure no one is witnessing this exchange. The nurses who are on duty are all busy with their patients, leaving the nurses’ station empty except for me. “Hey,” he says as he stops beside me, his voice smooth just like that night on the side of the road.
“Hi,” I reply, my hands trembling from him standing so close. I brace them on the desk. His light-gray T-shirt molds to his chest and stretches tight on his biceps. I can feel my cheeks start to get flushed, so I turn back to the paper in front of me. The words on the page look like they’re Sanskrit. I even have to press the ballpoint of the pen onto the sheet to stop it from scribbling. “What’s up?” I look at him, trying not to show how much I’m freaking out.
Theo was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Something that I never ever did, but he made me laugh. He also didn’t know who I was or where I came from, so there was no judgment coming off him, making kissing him the second-best thing I ever did in my life. That was until I woke up the next morning, and the bed beside me was empty, and he was gone.
“I . . .” he starts to say, “about that night.”
