Page 95 of Crave Me

My phone rings for the fourth time and I jam my fingers onto the ignore button. Sawyer’s fucking issues can wait. I just destroyed my fucking life and have to find a solution to put it back together. I can’t imagine a world where Blaire isn’t in it with me. I know running after her while she’s heated like this will be like cornering a wild animal. I’m bound to get my eyes gouged out. I set the bottle on my desk and notice the manila folder that wasn’t there earlier. Opening it, my eyes scan over a proposal to change the current dynamic of the events operations. She’s suggesting we move the tours to only seasonal in the fall, and focus on hosting major scheduled events on the property like weddings, limiting how many assholes are parading around my space every day, with the financialprojections to back it up. It’s brilliant. She fucking did this for me. The pressure in my chest tightens further.

My phone vibrates with a text, and I pick it up to throw it across the room when the words flash by my eyes.

Sawyer:

Answer your fucking phone NOW

My phone rings again with an incoming call from my twin. This time I pick it up, letting my rage out on him sounds like as good a plan as any right now.

“What? What the fuck do you need so bad that you can’t give me five fucking minutes to myself? I’m always there for fucking everyone else. I need a goddamn minute!”

“It’s Blaire, motherfucker. I just got a call from the hospital; she was in a car accident. You’re sleeping with her, any fucking idea why they called me and not her grandparents? I’m heading there now; they won’t give me details over the phone. I don’t know how to reach her grandparents, do you?”

I blink twice, registering what he just said, and fear takes over, taking root deep inside me and spreading through my body like a parasite. My heart clenches painfully in my chest as it gnaws at my insides, my body not able to form a sentence or thought.

All that’s there is fear.

“Dallas? You there? Do you know how to reach her grandparents?”

Blaire.

Accident.

Hospital.

She’s all alone.

“I’m on my way.”

I hang up on my brother and grab the keys to my Audi, running through the building and peeling out of the distillery parking lot on autopilot. Now I understand what Sawyer felt when Ivy was abducted. Pure, unadulterated fear. This is all my fault, if I hadn’t gotten that stupid fucking file on her, she never would have found it, we never would have fought, none of this would be happening. Now she’s hurt, all alone in a fucking hospital because of me.

I spin into the Aspen Ridge Medical Center faster than is legal or morally right for being an emergency room parking lot, and run into the building. My brother is already at the nurses’ station and turns to face me as I approach.

“She said the doctor will be out shortly to talk to me. She’s in surgery.”

I fucking crumble. Sawyer grabs my arms to keep my weight from slamming me down to my knees.

“Sawyer, I’m in love with her. I haven’t even fucking told her yet. She has to be okay. I can’t fucking breathe without her.”

I don’t register my brother’s reaction to the news, just that he hauls me up to my feet and takes my weight, moving us into two waiting room chairs.

“She’s going to be fine. It’s a good hospital, she’s in good hands. We’ll get through it. Mom’s on her way.”

I can’t take a full breath. Sawyer pushes me forward, his hand on my back, urging me to put my head between my legs. I work on steadying my breathing, knowing that I need to have my shit together to be strong for my girl. My mom walks in a moment later, taking a seat next to me and rubbing my back.

“Hey, my boy. She’s going to be just fine. I feel it. You doing okay?”

“I need her to be okay, Mom.”

“She will be. Hang in there. We’re here.”

I just need to know that she’s going to be okay. What feels like hours passes before a doctor walks into the waiting room. The images of her and our last conversation are playing on repeat in my head, the guilt eating me from the inside out.

“Sawyer Hayes?”

My brother and I stand together and walk over to the doctor. He’s dressed in surgical scrubs and my heart sinks further. I’ve never felt so out of control, so scared for anything in my life. My hands shake uncontrollably at my sides.

“That’s me, this is my brother, Dallas.”

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