Page 33 of Dream Girl
These sketches in the book I had weren’t as good. But I could still tell it was Grace. A little Grace with ponytails and freckles on a swing.
“I remember those charcoal sketches you did for that art show–they were her.” Brennan handed the book to Lexi. “Fuck.”
“He looked for her, and so did I,” Lexi said softly.
A bolt of concern shot through my bond with Wes. I looked over, and he stood there, frozen, with a stricken look on his face.
“Something’s not right.” Wes set the sketchbook down and yelled, “Grace!”
“What else could go wrong?” Brennan muttered as Wes took off for the living room.
“Guys,” Jett yelled at about the same time. “Get in here.”
Still holding the sketchbook, I ran into the living room, Lexi following.
Jett was on his phone. “I’d like to report a medical emergency.”
Wes knelt on the floor, panic coursing through our bond, fear flooding the room, as Grace lay on the living room carpet, convulsing, the room reeking of rotten peaches.
Chapter Eleven
Wes
My gut twisted as I saw Grace on her side, seizing in the living room. I knelt beside her, not knowing what else to do but hold her hand. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I’d like to report a medical emergency,” Jett said on the phone. “Seizure. Don’t know if she has a history, but she got a concussion yesterday.” He gave them our address.
“Fuck,” Lexi whispered, standing behind me.
All I could do was kneel there as Gracekeptseizing. How long did they last?
“I’ll be right back,” Evan said softly, sending reassurance through our bond.
“I was talking to her, and she started shaking and fell. She’s in a safe place, and on her side. It’s still happening, I set a timer,” Jett added to the person on the phone.
My chest shook. “It’s okay, Grace. I’m right here.”
She had to be okay. She just had to.
The shaking slowed. Good. “Come back to me. I’m right here. It’s going to be okay.”
Grace stopped shaking and whined a little, calling to my alpha instincts.
“I’m right here,” I told her, squeezing her hand.
“Seizure ended.” Jett read the time off to the emergency dispatcher. “Great, I’ll stay on the line until they get here.” He looked at me. “They’ll be here soon.”
“Grace, are you okay?” I hated this feeling of helplessness. I’d felt it over and over when we were teenagers.
She whined again, met my gaze, and then her eyes closed.
Lexi crouched next to me, voice soft. “Wes, they’re going to take her to the hospital, and you’re going to go with her and you’re going to be very careful about what you say.”
I nodded. “Right. I don’t want her to end up on a psych hold.”
Like her mom had done to her more than once.
“That,andI don’t want you to end up being investigated forabuse or neglect,” she whispered. “This is going to look bad. When I show up because she’s part of an open case, and was found yesterday bruised, afraid, with amnesia, and possibly on the run? Yeah, that’s not a good look.”
