Page 50 of Fractured Hearts

Jo lifts an eyebrow, considering. Then she starts swinging the knife around, sending tomato juice and seeds everywhere. She smirks, knowing exactly how much the mess is going to piss off Ezra.

“Woah there, angel. Let me have that.” I take the knife from her and place it in the sink. She mumbles something that sounds like spoilsport under her breath. “Have you seen Ezra?” I ask her again.

Jo sighs. “He’s out on the back patio. I left him there to think about his behavior.”

I can’t help laughing. “Did you put Ezra in timeout?”

She snorts. “Maybe. I just gave him something to think about.”

I leave her to clean up her mess and go find Ezra to figure out an entirely different mess. Opening the glass door to the backyard, I can see the chairs out there are empty, but I walk out to check anyway.

“Ezra?” I call. The only sound I can hear is the ocean. Walking around the perimeter of the house, I keep calling for him. “Ez!” I shout, starting to panic. His truck is in the driveway. He’d never leave without saying anything. The moment I think it, I realize it’s not true. He’s left without saying anything before, and I spent eight years mourning him.

He wouldn’t do that to me again. He knows I wouldn’t survive it if he did.

“Maverick! What’s going on?” Jo asks, hopping on one foot as she puts her sneakers on. Her coat is only on one arm, and her other shoe is untied. She must have heard me yelling and rushed out. Once she gets herself together, she throws something at me. It’s my jacket. Seeing it makes me realize I’m freezing and soaked from the rain.

“He’s gone,” I say, my voice breaking no matter how hard I keep it together. It takes me several tries to get my jacket on. I know Jo is holding back from helping me, which I appreciate and hate at this moment.

Jo’s eyebrows shoot up, but then she quickly frowns. “There’s no way he left you.”

“He’s done it before,” I say, sounding pathetic.

“I was with him for a month before you got here, Maverick. I’m telling you, there’s no way Ezra left. Let’s go check the beach.” Jo holds out her hand to me, and I take it like the lifeline it is.

“He’s not there either.” My voice is thick with the tears I’m holding back. I know my grip on Jo’s hand is too tight, but I can’t help feeling like if I let her go, then she’ll leave too.

“Let’s go down and check. The rain is making it hard to see,” she says, pulling me with her down the stairs. The rain wasn’t really obscuring my view of the beach, but I let her pull me along anyway. Part of me was shutting down. Preparing for the anguish that was about to hit like a freight train when Jo realizes he’s gone again.

The stairs are worn and rusty from the weather. We probably shouldn’t both be going down them at the same time, but I don’t have it in me to let her hand go.

“Fuck!” Jo shouts, startling me out of my stupor. “Ezra!” Jo lets go of my hand and flies down the stairs at a speed that would worry me on a sunny day, but the rain has made them slippery.

“Jo! Slow down!” I call, following her as quickly as I can.

“Ezra collapsed on the stairs! Look down!” she shouts, not slowing her pace. I do as she asks and stumble. I manage to catch myself on the railing before I cannonball down the rest of the stairs and take her with me. I take a deep breath to steady myself and look down. I hate that the stairs are the kind with holes in them so you can see beneath you. It’s why I haven’t come down to the beach since the day I got here. But I see what had Jo running. Ezra is on the stairs, almost halfway up, passed out and soaking wet.

“Shit!” I yell, running down the rest of the way to get to him, no longer caring about the height or if I fall. Jo is already at his side and shaking him by the time I get there. “Ezra!”

“He’s alive,” she says before I can even ask. Her shaking becomes more aggressive, and he groans, his eyes slowly opening.

“Come on. We need to get you inside and warmed up,” I say, pulling on his arm while Jo pulls on the other to get him sitting. “You need to help us, Ez. We can’t get you up all these stairs on our own.”

Ezra slowly blinks at me. His lips are blue. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was hypothermic. His hand is as cold as ice. I quickly shuck my jacket and get him into it with Jo’s help. Once he’s situated, I swing one of his arms around my shoulders while Jo takes the other, both of us gripping his waist. These stairs weren’t meant for three people, and it’s worse with how large Ezra is, but we manage the first step.

“We can do this,” Jo says as much to herself as to me. She keeps repeating it every third step. Our progress is slow, with Ezra barely able to hold himself up and needing frequent stops. At some point, I notice his head is bleeding, most of it being washed away by the relentless rain. There’s nothing I can do about it until we get him off these damn stairs that I never want to see again. I can watch the ocean from the window just fine.

“Call Darren,” I tell Jo the moment we stumble into the house and get Ezra half on the couch. She doesn’t argue and quickly runs to get her phone and make the call. I’ve never met the man, but I know he’s the one who helped with Jo’s leg and stitched up Ezra. I strip Ezra down, getting increasingly worried about how cold and gray he looks. Once I get him down to just his boxers, Jo is back.

“He’s on his way. He said to get Ezra in a warm bath, but not hot. We need to gradually raise his body temperature.” Jo is moving as she speaks, shouting most of it from down the hall as she starts the bath.

“Come on, Ezra. Just a few more steps and you can rest.”

Ezra’s eyes flutter. He doesn’t speak but manages a nod. His breathing is sluggish, and I don’t know where to find his pulse, but I have a feeling that’s not acting like it should, either. He kept losing consciousness on the stairs.

“I can’t lose you, so get up!” I yell at him as I pull him to his feet. He’s unsteady, but I’m there to hold him up. “Come on, baby. Just a few steps. You got this.” Ezra’s head lolls to the side, but he manages a shaky step.

“I’ve got you,” Jo says, running to Ezra’s other side and gripping his waist. “He’s so cold,” she whispers, looking around his body to meet my eyes. She looks as distraught as I feel.