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I clutch Wes’s arm as we follow the nurse. She leads us to a small room with a windowpane that slides open.
“I’ll wait out here,” Wes says, patting my hand. I’m not sure I can walk the last few feet on my own, but I make my way into the dimly lit room.
Dash’s face is cut and bruised, and his right leg sticks out from the blanket in a blue cast. His eyes are closed, but as soon as I touch his hand, his eyelids flutter. I run my hand down his face, feeling my heart clench at the thought of what Holden might look like when we finally find him.
Dash grabs my hand, and tears pool in his eyes. “Oh, god, Ari. I’m—”
I shake my head and shush him.
Dash lets out a slow breath and pushes his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe I...”
“Don't. We agreed that Jax would follow me and stay at the restaurant since I'd be alone. We—” I can't stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks as my brain tries to process how it all went wrong. I sink onto the edge of his bed. “I don't know what to do.”
Dash holds my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles, and I feel as if there's nothing else in the world.
My heart aches for my little boy. I can't even imagine what he's going through, but the thought of him crying out for me, needing me and knowing I'm not there makes my throat tighten until I can't breathe.
I shake myself out of my thoughts when I hear Dash grunt, and blink away the tears long enough to see him trying to sit up. “You shouldn't be moving.”
“Ari, the only thing broken is my leg. I'm just stiff and may as well take advantage of what little I can move while I'm on the strong pain killers.” He gives me a wan smile, but the tension behind it is palpable.
“It’s my fault Shane is here.” I choke on the words. I’m still blaming myself for Shane’s actions.
Dash pulls me against him, my hair spilling down his shoulder.
I lean into him and sob, taking in his familiar scent, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek. “No. Shane did this.”
Dash presses his lips against my forehead, and I slip into a daze where nothing exists except Dash's touch and my new mantra; we'll find him.
Behind me, someone clears his throat, and I pull away from Dash, wiping the moisture from my face as I turn to see Wes in the doorway. “Police are here with a few updates.”
I move to the chair next to Dash's bed as an older police officer with a receding hairline approaches the foot of his bed. “The gas station up the road gave us security footage showing the car the witness identified. We got a good look at the plates, which were reported stolen about two weeks ago. It looks like they’re heading toward Nashville. We also got a preliminary report that confirms everything Mr. Hardt told us. It looks like there was significant tampering to the brakes and safety features, but we’ll have to wait for the full report before making a determination.”
The officer’s gaze sweeps over everyone in the room and then stops on Dash as he snaps his notebook closed and tucks it under his arm. “Honestly, Mr. Hardt, given what we’ve found with the truck so far, and the road conditions, it’s impressive that you managed to slow down and keep any control at all.”
Dash moves his head a fraction of an inch but doesn’t respond.
“We’ll keep you updated,” the officer says. “We’re doing everything we can to find your son as quickly as possible.”
Dash nods, and I can tell even the small effort pains him. When we’re alone again, he tells me all the details of the crash, how he did everything he could to make sure that it wouldn’t be Holden’s side of the truck that took the brunt of the impact.
My tears fall in warm, wet drops down my cheeks. I see my son’s beautiful face in my mind, and dread fills my chest. I lean against the bed rail, listening to the beeps and groans of the surrounding machines, and staring into Dash’s face. I thought I would feel better if we learned they were at least making progress, but I only feel more anxious than before.
“They’ll find him, Ari.” The deep rumble of Dash’s words eases into my mind, slowly soothed by his strong presence and tone. I close my eyes and try to keep my breathing steady as the exhaustion threatens to pull me under.
I know that everyone around us is doing what they can, and I’m just sitting here. No car, no keys, no phone. I should be looking for them.
And how could I do a better job of it?
I laugh in spite of myself, and Dash gives me a quizzical look.
“Nothing, I just—” I refuse to tell him I feel like I should be doing something more than sitting by his bedside. That would only make him feel worse. Instead, I tell him about locking everything in the restaurant and trying to attack Wes.
He lets out a faint chuckle, and I can see the tension leaving his shoulders if only for an instant. I rub my thumb over Dash’s knuckles and lean in, warming him with my presence if I can’t do anything else.
