I started to pace the halls. Was Bryce in a rental? Or his white Range Rover? Had he gotten a new car since then? Were there streetlight cameras here? It was a small town. Would his parents lie to give him an alibi? My thoughts were swirling around in my head when the male police office stepped out of the double doors and called me into a private side room to take my statement.
Twenty minutes after my panicked ramble, he looked at his notes. “So your boyfriend and your ex-husband got into an argument at the ski lodge and then your boyfriend later went to the store and you think your ex tried to run him off the road?”
Wow, that made me sound really white trash and paranoid but I nodded. “Yes. Bryce has been … abusive to me in the past. That’s why we divorced.” My voice was small … but there, I’d said it out loud. I survived an abusive marriage.
The cop frowned. “Do you have that on record anywhere? File a complaint? A restraining order?”
Fuck.
“No. I just wanted out.”
The cop sighed. “Next time take pictures, call us out to the scene and file a formal complaint. I can’t do anything with hearsay.”
I nodded. “I will. Can you check Bryce’s car? Ask for his alibi?”
He tipped his head. “I’ll go over there and see what comes out naturally, but without a warrant I won’t be able to see his car unless it’s parked outside.”
My eyes widened. Bryce’s family were fancy lawyer people. They wouldn’t just let him poke around without a warrant. “Then get a warrant.”
The cop looked down his nose at me. “How? What evidence do I show a judge that your ex had beef with Ethan? Snowbowl Lodge doesn’t have cameras. This is all hearsay, and the judge will tell me you are trying to get back at your ex for not leaving you with any money.”
I’d told him Bryce was from a wealthy family and had connections.
“But it’s not that,” I whimpered.
The cop placed a hand light on my shoulder and gave me a compassionate look. “I want to believe you. I do. But I need evidence, okay?”
Desperation settled into my bones. “Okay.”
And that was that. I didn’t have anything on camera, no pictures, just a hunch…
After the cop left the room, I sat there questioning my sanity. Was I taking it too far by thinking Bryce would do this? He was an abusive asshole yeah, but he wouldn’t just try to kill Ethan and ruin his life. Going to jail and losing his job and car and all his fancy trips, that was the last thing he would ever do. He wouldn’t risk that.
Maybe I’d gone too far with my paranoia?
Sebastian was in the doorway. “What did he say?”
I needed to calm this situation or it was going to get out of hand. “He’s going to look into it. Now I’m not so sure Bryce would have done this. I think I’m being paranoid.”
Sebastian gave me a look and was silent for a moment. “If we find out he did, he’s dead,” was all the biker said before going into the next room.
I sat there rubbing my hands together in an anxious gesture until the nurse came back.
“I can take you to see him now.”
As I stood and followed her down the hall, I questioned whether I was really the best influence on Ethan’s life.
* * *
He wasasleep when I walked in, lying on the bed hooked up to a thousand wires and tubes. My gut dropped to see him in this condition. I immediately looked at his oxygen and heart rate and breathed a sigh of relief when the numbers looked stable. Next I glanced at his left leg, in a huge cast with steel pins sticking out of it. My throat tightened as I forced myself not to cry. I cared about this guy so much, and seeing him like this … it killed me.
I sat down and slipped my fingers into his warm, limp hand, and then leaned my head forward on the edge of the bed. The sterile disinfectant smell invaded my nostrils and I found my thoughts racing at a hundred miles an hour. Did Bryce do this? Should I have even jumped into a relationship so quickly after my divorce? I wasn’t sure I could handle losing Ethan. I’d stupidly already become so attached. How could I nail Bryce’s ass to the wall and get him in jail, where he could no longer taunt me or anyone I cared about? These thoughts spun around and around until the lack of sleep pulled me into the darkness.
A warm hand on my shoulder woke me and my eyes snapped open. I was no longer holding Ethan’s hand, my face was lying on his hip. Jerking my head up, I saw him look down at me, his hand on my shoulder. He had a black eye and scratches on his cheek, and his gaze was hauntingly sad.
“We’ve got to stop having dates in the hospital,” he declared.
I burst into tears, and then laughter, reaching out to grasp his good hand. “How’s your pain?”
