"Just to offer some friendly advice. Woman to woman." Callie's smile was sharp. "Devon's not yours to keep."
Emery stopped walking. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me. Whatever you think you have with him, it's temporary. He'll get bored—he always does. A month, maybe two if you're lucky. I lasted six months, which makes me the record holder.” Callie stepped closer, invading Emery's space. "So, enjoy it while it lasts. Because soon enough, he'll be done playing hero, and you'll be alone again, exactly where you started."
"You're wrong."
"Am I? Ask yourself—has Devon ever had a serious relationship? Ever committed to anyone for longer than a harvest?" Callie's voice turned syrupy sweet. "He's a good time—a fun distraction. But don't mistake kindness for love. He felt sorry for you that night at the bar, and now he's too nice to dump you while you're still a mess."
The words hit harder than Emery wanted to admit. Because Callie was right about one thing—Devon had never been in a serious relationship. Had never committed long-term to anyone. What if this was just him being kind? What if she was reading more into it than existed?
"Stay away from me," Emery said, her voice shaking with anger and uncertainty.
"Gladly. Just wanted to make sure you knew what you were dealing with." Callie smiled. "Enjoy your walk home. Alone. You’re going to need to get used to that feeling.” She sauntered off, leaving Emery standing on the sidewalk with doubt curling cold in her stomach.
Don't let her get in your head, Emery told herself.She's trying to manipulate you.
But knowing someone was trying to manipulate you and being immune to it were two very different things.
Emery crossed toward the intersection, her mind spinning. Devon cared about her—she knew he did. But could he love her? Would he stick around when the crisis passed, and she was just... normal? Ordinary?
Headlights blazed from her left, a car accelerating from a side street. Emery's head snapped up, her body frozen in that terrible moment of recognition—she was in the street, the car was coming fast, too fast.
She tried to move, tried to throw herself backward, but her feet tangled, and the car was already there, the bumper catching her hip and spinning her around.
She hit the pavement hard, her head cracking against asphalt, and the world exploded into stars and pain and darkness.
The last thing she heard was the sound of tires squealing and the smell of burning rubber.
Then nothing.
The hospital waiting room smelled like disinfectant and burnt coffee. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, the pitch making Devon's teeth ache. He'd been pacing the same six-foot path for forty minutes, while Bryson sat hunched forward in a plastic chair, elbows on his knees, watching Devon's circuit with resigned patience.
"You're going to wear a hole in the floor," Bryson said.
"I don't care." Devon turned, retraced his steps, and turned again. He wiggled his fingers, shook his hands, made fists, and repeated the motions. "They said they'd come get me when she was done. That was an hour ago."
"It's been forty minutes. And they said stitches, X-rays, and a CT scan. That takes time."
"She was hit by a car. Hit and left in the street like—" His voice broke. He couldn't finish the sentence.
The call had come from Officer Chen thirty-five minutes after Devon had dropped Emery and his sister at the Copper Vine. Devon had broken every speed limit between the vineyard and Stone Bridge Memorial, Bryson white-knuckling the passenger seat and not saying a word about it.
They knew almost nothing. Hit by a car at the Main Street intersection. The driver didn't stop—a witness called 911. Emery was conscious when the ambulance got there but banged up.
That was it. That was all anyone would tell him.
The waiting room doors swung open, and Sandy Kane strode in. She wasn’t wearing her traditional uniform, but she’d strapped on her badge and weapon. Her expression was hard—a look that Devon had grown tired of. "Any word?"
"Nothing yet." Devon stopped pacing long enough to face her. "Please tell me you caught whoever did this."
“I wish that were the case. But we've got a partial plate from a witness, and we're running it now." Sandy pulled out her notebook. "Deputy Chen was first on scene. He was able to speak with Emery before they loaded her into the ambulance."
"What did she say?" Devon's heart hammered against his ribs.
"That she didn't see the car until it was almost on top of her. Said she was distracted, crossing the street, and the headlights came out of nowhere." Sandy flipped a page. "The car didn’t appear to swerve and clipped her. Could've been worse."
"I don’t see how," Devon said, barely able to form the words as a thick lump formed in his throat. "She's getting a CT scan because someone hit her with a car and drove off, but it could've been worse."
