It’s not Cody’s voice. It takes me a second to place it, my brain too flooded with panic to think clearly, but then I realize, it’s Dakota.
I run to the door, fumbling with the locks. When I throw it open, Dakota’s standing there, and his face is pale, his eyes wide with terror. Immediately my eyes go to where his shirt has a bloom of red at the bottom. Is that blood?
“What’s wrong?” I ask, but I already know. I can feel it in my bones. Something’s happened. Something bad.
“Magnolia, it’s Levi.” His voice is shaking. “He’s been shot.”
The world tilts sideways, and I reach out to grab the door facing. “What?”
“Cody made bail. He was waiting outside the police station. He shot Levi.” Dakota grabs my arm when my knees buckle and my fingers let go of the door. “He’s at the hospital. He’s asking for you. We need to go now.”
I don’t remember grabbing my purse. Don’t remember locking the door behind me. Don’t remember getting into Dakota’s truck. Everything is a blur of panic and fear and one thought repeating over and over in my head.
Please don’t let him die. Please, God, don’t take him from me.
Dakota drives like a man possessed, running red lights, swerving around slower cars. At one point, I hear a siren and think we’re being pulled over, but then I realize it’s following us, giving us an escort. One of Levi’s friends or coworkers, I assume, making sure we get there as fast as possible.
“How bad is it?” I manage to ask, my voice coming out strangled.
“I don’t know,” Dakota says, and his hands are white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “He was conscious when they loaded him into the ambulance. He said your name.”
That breaks every part of me. Tears start streaming down my face, and I can’t stop them. Levi said my name. What if that was the last thing he ever said? What if I never get to tell him how much I love him again, how much he’s changed my life, how I can’t imagine a future without him in it?
We screech into the hospital parking lot, and I’m out of the truck before Dakota even has it in park. I run for the emergency entrance, my vision blurred with tears, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.
The sliding doors open, and I burst into the waiting room.
And stop.
They’re all there. The entire Harrison family. Ruby and Caleb, Mason and Karina, Molly pacing near the windows, other family members I recognize but can’t name in this moment. Police officers in uniform, some I know, some I don’t. Everyone looking tense, worried, and scared.
Every single head turns when I come through the doors, and I see it in their faces—they know. They know about Levi and me. They know I’m more than just Molly’s best friend. It seems as if both of us have let it slip, have let it show just a little too much.
Ruby is the first to move. She crosses the waiting room and pulls me into her arms, and I collapse against her, sobbing.
“He’s in surgery,” she says quietly, her hand rubbing circles on my back. “The bullet went through his shoulder. They’re removing it now, but the doctors say he’s going to be okay. He’s going to make a full recovery.”
I pull back to look at her face, searching for any sign that she’s lying to make me feel better. But her eyes are clear and honest. As honest as they’ve been since the day I started my period at their house, while my parents were off living their lives. She’d told me everything I’d needed to hear, and been such a help in everything I needed.
“You promise?” I whisper.
“I promise.” She guides me to a chair, sitting down beside me and keeping hold of my hand. “We’ve all been here before, Magnolia. Loving men who have dangerous jobs. Waiting to hear if they’re going to be okay. It never gets easier, but we get through it together.”
I look around the waiting room at all these strong women—Ruby, Karina, Molly, others whose names I know but can’t quite recall. Women who’ve loved police officers, who’ve waited in hospitals, who’ve built lives with men who run toward danger instead of away from it.
“I love him,” I say, and my voice breaks. “I love Levi so much.”
Ruby squeezes my hand. “I know you do, honey. And he loves you. Anyone can see it.”
“I can’t lose him,” I whisper. “I just found him. I can’t lose him now.”
“You won’t,” she says firmly. “He’s a fighter. He’s a Harrison. He’s going to be fine.”
Molly sits down on my other side, taking my other hand. She doesn’t say anything, just holds on tight, and I’m grateful for my best friend, for her support, even if she’s probably going to give me an earful.
“I’m not,” she says, leaning in. “Going to give you an earful.”
“Did I say that out loud?” I ask softly.
