Page 66 of Second Goal

I frown up at him. “When? Is she…?”

“She didn’t make it. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

In my heart, I already knew. I’d seen the life leave her eyes. But I’d hoped I’d been wrong.

“She had your phone and for some reason your insurance card.” His throat bobs when he swallows, and I see a flash of something that looks like pure agony tug at his features.

“My insurance card?” It takes me a second to understand. I’d left all of my things when I’d ran that night. She must have used my ID. It would explain the files Blake’s guy found.

“The hospital thought she was you. I thought...” Blake chokes on the word, voice breaking.

“I’m fine,” I tell him, palm resting on his chest.

“Never letting you out of my sight again,” he mutters, each word filled with so much torment that I don’t even think about arguing with him.

“Sir, you need to step off—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he growls at the woman, arms wrapping protectively around me. The pure agony of his voice, the emotion, it rattles me.

The paramedic looks ready to debate with him but must think better of it. Instead she focuses on me, “You have no injuries?”

“No. I just want to go home.”

She nods and as soon as she dismisses me, Blake lifts me in his arms.

“I can walk.”

He grunts. “I already told you, I’m not letting you go.”

I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. “So you’re going to carry me everywhere from now on?”

“If I have to.”

I glance over at my brother. “A little help here.”

He shakes his head. “After what we went through tonight, I’m not arguing with him.”

I glance up at Blake, and I understand the tortured look that has his features drawn tight. He thought I’d been shot. That I’d died.

“I’m sorry,” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“None of this is your fault.”

“Not for that. For being so stubborn. You’re right, I do need you. I didn’t want to be weak...”

He exhales heavily. “It’s not a weakness to need someone. God, Kiley, I need you too. When I thought...” His voice breaks. “I just need to get you home.”

We’re all silent as we get in the car. Blake sits in the back with me, and Kane drives. The radio reports the shooting, naming Cruz as the shooter. He’s dead. It should be relief that fills me, and it does, but there’s also a heaviness inside my chest. A sadness.

Ezra.

Cruz.

Amy.

They’re all gone.

But I don’t feel guilt anymore. It was their choices, their mistakes that lead to this. And as much as I wanted to protect Amy, I couldn’t.

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