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Malcolm forced his scattered thoughts to come together. “Did you see what happened?”
The customer’s wife nodded. “She stood and just keeled right over.”
“Damn it, Celia,” Malcolm muttered even as he gathered her in his arms. He stood, his eyes scanning the few remaining customers from the lunch crowd. “Food’s on me,” he barked before striding out the front door.
Malcolm knew Celia was sometimes anemic. It could be nothing, but he wasn’t taking any chances. He shifted her enough to shoulder the passenger door open on his truck, then set her inside to buckle her up.
“Trenton,” she murmured, her head lulling to the side.
“I’ll call him on the way to the hospital,” Malcolm promised. No protest was forthcoming, so he knew she wasn’t truly awake.
Malcolm’s chest tightened as he climbed up into the driver’s seat and made the call. Celia’s life, as it was now, was everything he’d always wanted for her. He would have prayed, but he was pretty sure the bastard would just decide to make things worse. Malcolm pulled out of his parking spot even as his friend’s voice came through the speaker.
“Mal? What is it?” Trenton asked.
Malcolm wasn’t one to sugarcoat things. “Celia collapsed at Last Shot. Meet us at the hospital.”
The curse and click that followed would have made him smile at any other time. Trenton used to be like a monk in all ways back before Celia entered his life, but no longer.
Celia was the center of both their worlds. She had to be okay.
Chapter 3
ThebeepingslidwithinJami, pulsing in her aching head with each beat. Her hand felt heavy when she lifted it, and her eyes flew open at the bandage she found around her head. The beeping reached a crescendo that made her cry out—that and the bright lights above her.
Cords pulled at her arm, and she reached for them.
“Oh, don’t do that, please,” a voice said, one that tried to sound stern but came out more pleading.
Jami turned her head to find a younger woman standing over her. The neon scrubs she wore only added to the ache behind Jami’s eyes.
The nurse patted her hand. “You’re in the hospital.”
Jami took in the machines and the medical bed, finding herself already in a private room, and began to panic. “I don’t have insurance.”
The patting sped up. “The gentleman who brought you in told me to tell you not to worry about it. He was so sweet, but had to step out. He’ll be disappointed that he wasn’t here when you woke.”
The “gentleman” must be Andrew Raneer, as no one would describe her father that way. Jami’s hand clenched on the scratchy, white blanket. There was nothing she could do; she was already there. She would owe Andrew again. He must have found her at the bottom of the steps. Her eyes flew up to the nurse.
“My father! Kevin Reece. Is he here?” Jami tugged at the cords, but they were buried in her arm. “He can’t be left alone.”
“Miss, please wait!” The nurse’s hands locked down on hers. “Ms. Reece, it’s okay,” she said, as if remembering to use her name. “You’re in no condition to leave.”
“Condition? I remember falling down the stairs…” Jami’s hand, the one without all the cords, lifted to her head again. It ached, just like her eyes.
“Try not to think about it too hard,” the nurse said. When Jami stopped struggling, the nurse continued patting her hand. “You likely don’t feel any pain because of the medication.”
“My head hurts,” Jami admitted, “but I can handle it.”
The nurse frowned as she drew back. “I’ll need to call the doctor. You really shouldn’t be experiencing pain on the medication she prescribed.”
Jami scanned her body, noticing the large lump under the covers on the right side, much too large for just her leg. “My leg?” Her chest began to feel too tight as she stared at it. There was no way that was a cast, was there?
“The doctor set the broken bone, but it’s best if she explains things,” the nurse murmured. “Let me tell her you’re awake, and we’ll go from there.” The nurse headed toward the door.
Jami’s hands slid away from her head. She wasn’t home. What if something happened to her father? Her eyes squeezed shut, but the tears escaped anyway, sliding down her cheeks.
“Jami, sweetie, don’t cry.” She’d recognize Andrew’s voice anywhere. When he took her hand, a stone pressed down on her chest, making her breath ache. “I’m sorry. I should have been here when you woke.”
