Parker is the reason my girl is safe and sound. I’m not too fond of letting go of Harriet, so instead, I balance her on one arm and haul Parker into a hug with the other.
“Oh!” she yelps, though it’s muffled into my chest. “What the hell is happening?”
“Thank you.” My voice wobbles.
Parker wrangles out of my awkward embrace, her eyebrows drawn up in surprise. “You’re thanking me?”
“Harriet told me how quickly you reacted. Most people would’ve panicked and swerved. You didn’t. You kept calm and the three of you safe. So, yeah, I’m thanking you. I’d like to pay for any damage too. Leave your insurance out of it.”
“I can’t let you do that.” She peers at Harriet, searching for reinforcement.
“Yeah, don’t bother. He’s stubborn and won’t take no for an answer. Can I get down now?”
“No,” Parker and I reply in unison.
Neither Harrietnor Parker complain at my snail’s pace back to town. My nerves are a wreck, fingers cramping as they clutch the wheel. Only after I drop Parker off and we step through the front door of the cottage do I regain a shred of control.
“This is getting ridiculous.” Harriet scowls at me, face inches from mine as I carry her bridal style up the stairs. “I’m capable of walking. There isn’t a scratch on me.”
Inside her en suite, I place her gently on the bath mat, my hands lingering on her hips.
“Humor me, sweetheart.” I brush an errant strand of hair aside. My next words clog my throat, the vulnerability in them almost choking me. “I know you’re fine, but those are words. I need something tangible. I was fucking petrified when you called, and it might seem like I’m overreacting…”
Something in my expression must pull at her heartstrings, because her face softens. “Don’t apologize for caring. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She rests her cold hand over mine, reminding me she needs a warm shower and a change of clothes. I reach around her,flipping on the warm spray of water. My panic lingers, making the bathroom appear smaller, but I can’t bring myself to leave.
“Are you joining me?” The question isn’t playful or suggestive.
If it was, forcing a smile would drain every last drop of my energy, so I shake my head and turn away as she sheds her clothes. “I, um, won’t watch, but I don’t want you to be alone.”
The words feel ridiculous as they leave my mouth. How do I explain the dark corners of my mind are rearing their ugliness again, reminding me of everything I’ve tried to forget and heal from?
“You can look at me.”
No. I can’t.
She moves behind me and sighs as she steps under the shower. I clutch the edge of the vanity, eyes clamp closed as my chest constricts from the memories.
I could have lost them.
“Warren,” Harriet whispers. “It’s okay.”
It isn’t. A heartbeat. That’s how quickly it could’ve taken for hers to stop.
“Warren,” she repeats, louder this time.
“I can’t lose you.” The marble digs into my palms. “I can’t.”
“Look at me.” The sirens and flashing lights drag me from reality, drowning out her voice. “Warren. Look at me.”
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
Crash. Rain. Hospital.
“Warren!”
