Page 121 of Chasin’s Surrender

Silence.

“Please, Evie. You gotta give me something. I’m dying, baby. We’re gonna get you through this. I promise. Swear it, Evie. I love you so damn much. Please say something.”

More silence.

His eyes closed and the day replayed.

From making love to her. Breathing in her shampoo. Evie telling him to take her money. Melting away his insecurities. To her declaring her love. All shots to his dying heart.

You give me everything I need, every time I need it.

Fuck.

The day kept flashing behind his lids; fear clear as day when they’d stumbled onto the blood in the woods. He’d tried to shield it from her but she saw. And finally, the last time he’d heard her voice over the phone. Tight with worry.

I trust you.

Moments flickered, bits and pieces of her melodious voice flitted in his head. Fucking hell, he needed her.

Then finally, fucking finally, something. The fiercest squeeze of her hand.

Thank God.

“Thank you, baby,” he croaked. “I love you, Evie.”

It wouldn’t be for another hour before the door flung open and bounced off the wall, nearly smacking the frantic woman who’d flung it open in the face. Nix, Weston, and Jameson all stood but Chasin sat frozen with a motionless Genevieve in his arms.

The woman looked different, but the same. A little older, she wore her hair longer, and the little girl who stood next to her was much older than the last time he saw her.

Christ.

Charleigh Towler.

“Any word?” Charleigh asked, and looked at Nixon.

“Charleigh, honey, why don’t you come in and you and Faith have a seat?” Nix responded.

Clearly, Nix had called her because he didn’t look the least bit surprised she’d rolled through the door like a hurricane, towing Faith.

“Just tell me, Nixon.”

“Last update was an hour ago. They’re doing what they can.”

Genevieve whimpered and Chasin lost sight of Charleigh’s frown when he looked down at Evie.

His ass had long ago gone numb, his arms ached from holding her, and his back was killing him from sitting in the hospital chair for so long. But his physical pain was nothing compared to hearing Evie’s anguish.

“He’s gonna be okay, baby,” Chasin said, even if he wasn’t sure.

It’d been too long.

Chasin sat quietly and watched as the guys greeted Charleigh and Faith and introduced them to the women. But Chasin’s eyes remained on the little girl. There wasn’t a single trace of Paul in her. From top-to-toe, the girl was her mother. Thick brown hair, deep brown eyes, tanned complexion. Paul had had fair skin, blond hair, and blue eyes.

The door opened again, interrupting Chasin’s musings, and in walked an older man in scrubs.

“Holden Stanford’s family?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Nixon answered and stepped forward. McKenna fit herself under her husband’s arm just in case it was bad news and he needed her. She wouldn’t be far.