"For me?" My stomach dips. "Who is it?"
"She says her name is Summer."
I don’t wait another second, I take the receiver from Corinne’s hand.
"Hello?"
"Cas! Thank God you’re there." Summer’s voice is pitched high, breathless. "You need to come over here, it’s Penny, she’s…”
She hesitates, and my blood goes cold. I’m already grabbing my jacket and keys. "What happened?" I snap, gesturing for Chris to move.
“Penny got a call from someone, I think it was Mark… then she panicked. And now…” Her voice cracks. “She fainted.”
I don’t even remember hanging up. My legs carry me fast, Chris hot on my heels, his joking gone.
The sharp autumn air hits my lungs as we sprint across the lot. My keys fumble in my grip, slick with sudden sweat. The thought of Penny, bright, soft, quirky Penny, lying unconscious makes my chest clamp tight.
Chris jumps into the passenger seat as I gun the engine. Gravel spits from the tires.
"Cas, slow down, you’ll…”
"Don’t." My voice is low, sharp, brooking no argument. My pulse thunders in my ears.
Every mile to Sugar & Spice feels like ten. My hands strangle the steering wheel, knuckles aching, but the only image in my head is her pale and still, her warmth slipping away.
Please, God. Let her be ok.
We screech to a halt in front of the coffee shop, and before the car fully stops, I’m out, boots pounding against the pavement.
The bell above the door clangs as I shove it open. The warm scent of cinnamon and coffee rushes me, but it’s drowned by the sight across the room.
Summer crouched on the floor, panic written all over her face. And Penny.
Penny, collapsed, her hair fanned against the floor her skin white as porcelain.
For a heartbeat, the world narrows to her and the silence in my chest.
Then I’m moving.
I drop down in two strides, my knees jarring against the tile.
“Penny.” My voice cracks as I brush damp hair from her forehead. Her skin is clammy, chilled.
Her lashes flutter. For one terrible second I think she won’t come back to me, then hazel eyes flicker open, glassy and confused. Relief rips the air from my lungs.
“Cas?” she whispers.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here.” I scoop her up, her body trembling as she curls instinctively into my chest. The faint vanilla scent of her shampoo mixes with the acrid tang of fear in the air.
“I couldn’t breathe,” she murmurs against me.“Everything just… went dark.”
“You’re safe now.” My jaw tightens, but I keep my voice steady, grounding.“I’m taking you to the hospital. No arguments.”
She nods, her fingers knotting in my shirt like she’s afraid to let go.
Chris shoves the door open, and I carry her out into the cool bite of autumn air. My boots thud hard against the pavement, each step echoing with the weight of her in my arms. I ease her into the passenger seat of my truck, buckle her in myself, and linger a beat, brushing my knuckles over her hand before shutting the door.
The hospital is only ten minutes away, but it feels like ten years. The cab smells of leather and coffee from the half-empty cup rolling in the console, but underneath it all is her, sweet and faint, grounding me. I keep my eyes flicking to her chest, watching it rise and fall. Fury builds with each shallow breath she takes.
