Page 54 of Military Daddies' Nanny

Whiskey, from the looks of it. Not usually my poison of choice, but tonight...tonight I'm tempted.

"You and me both." Nathan's voice is sandpaper-rough, edged with fury. "I tried talking some sense into him, but..." He trails off, shaking his head. "It's like he's got blinders on or something. All he can see is this chance to give the kids their mom back."

And I get it, I do. On some level, I understand Drew's desperation to make things right, to give Bella and Jason the family they deserve. But at what cost?

"What about Nancy?" I ask, afraid to know the answer.

Nathan's face twists. "Gone. She met Karen. Jesus, I don't even know what he said to her. But she bolted."

"Fuck." The expletive slips out unbidden as I spin away, hands fisting in my hair. This is bad.This is so fucking bad. "We need to find her."

I don't wait for Nathan's response, already fumbling my phone from my back pocket.Come on, come on...My thumb jabs Nancy's name in my favorites list, before I lift it to my ear as it starts to ring.

One ring. Two. Three. My heart thuds against my ribcage, a staccato percussion of worry.Pick up, mamacita. Please pick up…

Just when I'm ready to hurl the device across the room in frustration, there's a click. And then, thank every god in existence, Nancy's voice.

"H-hello?"

Relief wars with concern as I register the tremor in her tone, the unmistakable rasp of recent tears. "Nancy? Baby, where are you? Are you okay?"

A choked sound filters through the speaker, my chest constricting at the obvious distress. When she finally manages to speak, the words send ice water flooding my veins.

"I'm at the hospital."

For a split second, everything stops. The world narrows to a pinprick, my pulse a deafening roar in my ears.Hospital. Nancy. Hospital.

"What happened?" The question rips from my throat, rough and urgent. "Are you hurt? Which hospital?"

Dimly, I'm aware of Nathan hovering nearby, tension radiating off him in waves as he strains to make out Nancy's end of the conversation. I switch the phone to speaker without conscious thought.

"St. Mary's," Nancy says, her voice small. So small. "I...I passed out. My friend Jamie, she called an ambulance..."

"We're on our way." The words tumble out before she's even finished speaking, an assurance and a vow rolled into one. "Just hang tight, okay? We'll be there soon."

I end the call and whirl to face Nathan, who's already reaching for his keys. No words are needed. We're moving in unison, footsteps echoing against the linoleum as we barrel toward the front door.

Nathan takes out his phone as I get behind the wheel. “Telling Drew?” I ask.

Nathan nods. “Yeah, I texted to tell him we were leaving the house so he should take care of the kids.”

“Did you tell him Nancy called?” I feel like if Drew knew something happened to Nancy, he would want to come as well. “Did he text back?”

Nathan shakes his head though. “No. I didn’t mention Nancy. I just said we needed to get some air. We’ll tell him what happened when we’ve made sure that Nancy’s safe.”

I nod tersely, peeling out of the driveway with probably more speed than was strictly necessary. Later, I'll need to circle back and hash this out with Drew—figure out how the hell we'resupposed to navigate Karen's reappearance without shattering the family we've painstakingly cobbled together.

But right now? Right now, all that matters is getting to Nancy.

The drive to St. Mary's passes in a blur of compressed time, my knuckles white around the steering wheel. Neither Nathan nor I speak. The air is thick with shared anxiety, filled with all the things we're afraid to voice aloud.

What if she hit her head when she fell? What if…

No. I slam the door on that line of thinking before it can take root. Nancy will be fine. She has to be.

We screech into the parking lot in record time, tires squealing against asphalt. The second I throw the Jeep into park, we're out and running, sprinting toward the looming edifice of the hospital.

Inside, fluorescent lights cast sickly shadows across institutional green walls as we skid to a stop at the reception desk. "Nancy Jones," I pant, probably looking half-crazed. "She was brought in by ambulance. Where…"

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