Page 42 of The Bourbon Bride

I scan the parking area and see an alley behind the building. I hear sirens wailing in the distance as I run toward the alley and pray I won’t find Hayes in a heap.

“Please, please, please,” I beg quietly.

“Ma’am, officers are almost at your location, do not leave,” the dispatcher says, just as I enter the dark alley.

“Hayes!” I scream again, listening to my voice bounce off the walls.

“Right here,” he answers from midway down the alley, kneeling on the ground in the shadows.

“Oh, thank God!” I turn toward him in relief.

“Paige, stay there!” he calls sharply, halting my steps.

“Ma’am, officers are looking for you, please make contact,” the dispatcher instructs me.

I freeze in indecision, wanting to run to Hayes but needing to find the officers.

“The police are here,” I call down the alley.

“Go to them, honey. I’m okay,” he says quietly.

I turn and run out of the alley, red and blue lights lighting up the parking lot as four officers turn toward me, weapons drawn. “I’m here, I called!” I yell, my hands going up in the air as my phone drops to the concrete. The screen cracks, but the call is still live.

“They’re down the alley,” I say, my voice shaking as one officer moves toward me, pistol outstretched while the other three move toward the alley behind me.

A voice comes through his radio spouting codes and words I can’t follow, and he lowers his weapon.

“Ma’am, come with me, please.” He beckons me toward him and I follow, even though my heart is stuck in the alley with Hayes.

It feels like hours as I sit in the police car, recounting the events as best I can for the officer while I shake and search for any sign of Hayes. When an ambulance arrives, I bolt upright and scream for Hayes, but the officer keeps me with him. The stretcher that comes back ten minutes later is carrying a man, but the paramedics are working over him and I can’t see if it’s Hayes. I break down, cold tears streaming down my face as I sob hysterically.

I wail Hayes’s name and wish this were a horrible dream I could wake up from.

fifteen

Hayes

WhenIwalkoutof the alley escorted by two police officers, I don’t see Paige. I quickly scan the area and nearly lose my shit and start screaming for her.

“Where’s my girl? Where is she?” The frantic tone is loud in my own ears.

“Cool it, buddy, she’s in the shop,” one of the officers says, pointing at the police car flanking my Mercedes. One door is still open, making it look like a bird with a broken wing.

“Hayes!”

I turn when my name is called and see Paige clambering out of the car and running toward me. Relief as I’ve never known rushes through me to see she’s safe and nothing happened to her. I meet her with open arms, catching her flying figure as she launches herself into my chest.

“Baby, you’re all right?” I ask, pulling her tight to me while she sobs.

“I didn’t—you were—so scared,” she cries, her words disjointed and hysterical.

“I’m okay. I just have to give a written statement and we can go home, got it?”

“What happened?” she asks. “You’re covered in blood!”

“It’s not mine, I’m fine,” I assure her gently. I glance down and notice my shirt and hands are bloody and it’s now on Paige where she was pressed to my chest, smeared on her cheek and streaked on her sweater. The sight turns my stomach more than the adrenaline of the fight did. I don’t like seeing her marred by blood, especially the blood of a man who threatened her safety, no matter the outcome.

“Mr. Olsen?”

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