I’ve already disconnected the call, cutting him off. Dad doesn’t let go of me, and our eyes lock. “I’ll drive you.”
“No.” I blow out a breath, shaking out my hands. “I’ll be okay. Just…let me get a lay of the land first.”
Dad’s brow creases, worry flashing across his face. “Are you sure? Gracie’s ours, just as much as she’s yours.”
“I’m sure,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug. He hugs me back tightly enough to make my ribs ache.
I go to pull away, desperate to get to Gracie, but Dad doesn’t immediately let me go. I sink into him again, just as he whispers, “You’re ours too.”
It feelslike it takes me hours to get to the town center, but in reality, it takes less than ten minutes. My hands are clenched around the steering wheel as I turn onto the street where the florist is located. I expected to see the flashing lights of the cruisers, and even the ambulance, but panic still surges, making my vision swim.
“Gracie.”
The name is enough of a reminder that I can park the truck, and then I use the breathing techniques to calm the terror, even as I climb out and head to the crowd gathered around the shop at a lope.
“Brax!” I hear Nick, my head swiveling as I search forhim. I see him break away from two other officers, heading for me.
“Where is she?” I ask, and his eyes shift, moving to the ambulance.
I take a step in that direction, but Nick latches onto my arm, holding me back. “She’s in shock, Braxton. You…” He blows out a breath. “Go easy, man.”
I don’t bother responding, tugging my arm out of his. I can see her on the stretcher as I approach, lying on her side and with a thermal blanket wrapped around her. An EMT is bent over her, talking softly. I step into the rig, making it rock under my weight, and he looks up. Recognition flares through me, having worked with him on more than one callout.
“Darren,” I greet. “Do you mind if I…?”
“Braxton, hey. You know her?”
I give a jerky nod, even as he shifts to the side to let me through. “Yeah, she’s my…” I close my eyes with a sigh. “She’s my Gracie.”
Someone calls Darren’s name, and he looks out of the back of the ambulance, before turning back to me. “I’ll be right back. We’ll be leaving in a couple of minutes.”
“Where you taking her?”
“Ashland.” He’s gone without another word, leaving me staring after him. The only reason to take Gracie there is if her injuries are serious enough that they can’t be treated at the emergency clinic.
Her eyes are open and unfocused, her skin pale, which makes the dark bruise already purpling the side of her face stand out even more. There’s a streak of dried blood smeared across her skin, and I suck in a sharp breath.
“Gracie,” I whisper, pressing two fingers to the unmarked skin of her jaw. “Baby. Rumpel.” Her lashes flutter, eyes lifting to mine, huge and haunted.
“Braxton?” Her voice is a throaty rasp. “What…what are you doing here?”
“Nick called me,” I murmur, glancing out of the rig. I can see him standing near two plain-clothed detectives, his hands gesticulating wildly and a scowl on his face. I focus back on Gracie. “How badly are you hurt?”
Her brow knits together, but she flinches when it pulls at the injured side of her face. “I don’t…” She swallows hard, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth, but it doesn’t hide the way her mouth trembles.
I slide my hand under the thermal blanket, finding Gracie’s hand. She’s ice-cold, her hand shaking in mine, but she doesn’t pull away. “They’re taking you to Ashland.” Her eyes flick up to mine, blank and hazy. I don’t know how much she’s hearing or taking in. “Let me come with you. I don’t want you to be alone.”
“She won’t be.”
I look up, not surprised to see Nolan standing just outside the rig, his expression drawn tight, his attention wholly focused on Gracie.
“Hey,” I greet him softly, not wanting to startle her. It feels like the word sticks in my throat, but this isn’t the time to force what I want on Gracie. I won’t take more from her than I already have, and we aren’t in a place where she would ever choose me over him, as much as that fucking guts me.
“Gracie,” I murmur, looking back at where her eyes have fallen shut. “Nolan’s here.”
He steps up into the rig, keeping his voice just as low as he asks, “Do you know what happened? Gracie called, but she didn’t say much.”
It would have hurt less if he’d actually slammed my head into a brick wall. I don’t move, don’t even breathe, for several seconds, trying to force myself to think past the pain and guilt.
