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“Please,” she begged.
“There was an incident at the group home where Kinsley Turner is staying.”
And now she was back to full-on panic mode.
An incident.
At the place where her husband was working.
There was no doubt in her mind that Sawyer had been hurt.
“How bad?” She managed to force the words out of her throat that was quickly closing. She had only been this scared in her life once before. She had almost been killed by a serial killer a few years ago but managed to be saved before he strangled her. Determined he wasn't going to let a victim survive he had stalked her until he was able to make a second attempt on her life, coming far too close to killing her and two of her friends, including Brady’s wife, Aurora.
Knowing someone wanted to kill you, that kind of terror was indescribable.
As was the fear of her husband or children being hurt.
“Not bad, Ash,” Brady assured her. “Not bad at all. Sawyer is okay. Do you hear me? He’s fine. He thought he saw someone outside, so he made sure that the staff got all the kids together in one place and called the cops. He went outside to investigate. Jay Turner must have climbed up a tree, assuming that we would have someone on his daughter, and wanted to draw them out, intending to incapacitate them, then he’d have free range to get to Kinsley. He jumped down, knocked Sawyer over, then hit him over the head. Sawyer was able to fire off a shot, he hit Jay, but the man managed to get away again. He’s like a cat with nine lives,” Brady muttered.
Her husband had been hit over the head.
Head injuries were serious so how okay could Sawyer be?
And Brady had said that Jay got away even though Sawyer had shot him. Her husband was a perfect shot, if he hadn't incapacitated or killed the man then it was because he couldn’t.
Because he was hurt.
“Put your head between your knees. You look like you’re going to pass out.” Brady’s hand pressed between her shoulders, pushing her head down. “I told you he’s okay, Ash. He’s okay,” he said again, over-enunciating the words, presumably to try to get them to penetrate.
It wasn't his words that were going to convince her that her husband was okay.
Only seeing him could do that.
As if by magic, she heard the door to Brady’s office open and footsteps cross the room.
“Ash?”
It was Sawyer’s voice, and he sounded okay, but she was very afraid that her mind had snapped, and she had lost touch with reality and was now hallucinating.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t think she believes you're okay,” Brady replied.
“Can I have a moment alone with her?”
“Of course. As long as you need.”
Brady’s hand lifted from between her shoulder blades, and then a moment later, someone knelt in front of her. A finger was hooked under her chin, and her face was tilted up.
Sawyer was before her.
There was a lump on the side of his head the size of a gold ball.
He was pale.
There were still faint traces of blood streaking down his cheeks.
He didn't say anything, just leaned in and touched the softest of kisses to her lips.
