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But like a nightmare doomed to repeat itself, he watched the woman he loved get into her car and then—
“Isobel. Stop!”
Her door slammed.
It was supposed to happen in slow motion. That was what he’d always heard about moments like this.
But Christ, no, it was just a blink of an eye and then it was over.
The engine rumbled to life.
Then the car jumped forward like she’d stomped the gas. Maybe thinking it was reverse? But it wasn’t. It was in drive.
The car jumped the curb and ran straight into the front of the diner.
Glass shattered. All around, people shouted.
And Hunter ran harder and faster than he ever had in his life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
HUNTER
They’d had to airlift Isobel to the hospital in Casper. Her injuries had been that severe.
In her altered state, she hadn’t been clearheaded enough to put on a seatbelt.
PCP. They found fucking PCP in her bloodwork. Not just a little bit, either. Her stepmother had poisoned her. With her birthday apple pie.
And it had fucked Isobel up so much that she’d broken the bones in her left hand to get out of the cuffs without feeling a thing.
Then she’d gotten in her car and—
Hunter fisted both his hands and leaned against the hospital corridor wall. Blood. There’d been blood everywhere when he got to the car. And his Isobel was lying on the hood like a broken doll, her head and half her torso through the front windshield.
There was so much swelling on her brain, they’d had to induce a coma. That was four days ago. Now they were waiting for her to wake up. She should have woken up by now. Why the hell wasn’t she waking up?
The door to her hospital room opened and Hunter jerked his head toward it. It was only Reece coming out, his face somber.
Still, Hunter couldn’t help asking, “Any change?”
Reece shook his head. But then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. With a decisive nod, he opened his eyes. “But Izzy’s strong. She’ll make it through this.”
Hunter didn’t reply. Janine had been strong too. Hunter knew all too well that sometimes it didn’t matter how strong you were or how much you prayed or how fair it was. Death was going to snatch whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
Still, as Hunter walked into Isobel’s room, he caught himself praying, “God, not this time. Not this one.”
Seeing her so small and pale in her hospital bed hit him straight in the gut just like it always did. It was so wrong. She was supposed to be up, standing toe to toe with him, eyes flashing, calling him on his bullshit.
He went to her side and sat down in the chair that was rarely left unoccupied. They all took turns sitting with her. Xavier had the kids at home while the other guys took shifts driving back and forth to be here with Isobel and help with the horses.
Only Hunter and Mel had stayed at the hospital the whole time—though she’d eventually had to get a hotel to sleep at night, what with her being seven months pregnant. She’d offered to get Hunter a room too, but he’d declined. He didn’t mind sleeping in uncomfortable hospital waiting room chairs. He needed to be there the second Bel woke up.
Because she would wake up. She had to.
“Hey Bel.” He reached over and took her hand. “They said we should talk to you. Let you hear our voices. That you might be able to hear us even if you can’t respond yet. So I just want you to know I’m here. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled her hand up to his mouth and kissed it. Her skin was so cold. He rubbed her hand between his to try to warm it up.
