Page 115 of L.O.V.E

Sirens wailed.

Her lids fluttered shut, then lifted slow. “I’m tired.”

“Try to stay awake, please? I need you to do that for me.”

“You’re crying.” She gagged, then turned her head to spit blood.

I could only nod.

Her lids fell again and didn’t open.

“Cole. Son.” My body shook, and I bolted upright, blinking the room into focus.

Natalie lay in the same spot, eyes closed, monitors whirring. Her mother stood over the bed, her father stood over me, a hand on my shoulder, his eyes dark, sunken.

“You made it.” My dry throat cracked.

“Thanks for calling.” He stepped back and cleared his throat.

I pushed to stand, and the moment I was upright, Charles pulled me into a tight embrace. “Thank God you were here for her.”

“Thank God is right,” Linda whispered.

“Any word from the police?” Charles asked.

“Not yet. But the security cameras caught everything. They’re trying to pull a license plate number.”

Linda squeezed her daughter’s hand. “Doctors said she’ll be fine. Six stitches on the back of her head. No concussion, by some miracle. Twisted ankle. Bit her tongue pretty hard.”

I laughed. Fucking twisted ankle saved her life.

Charles and Linda looked at me like I was crazy.

I explained. “If she hadn’t caught her heel in that damn crack, that Cadillac would’ve hit her.”

“Fate,” Linda whispered, eyes welling.

I scrubbed at my facial hair. “They wanna keep her for twenty-four hours, keep an eye on her.”

“That’s good.” Charles studied my rumpled, soiled clothes. “Why don’t you go clean up. Come back after you get some rest and a good meal in you.”

Hell no. I wasn’t leaving her side.

“We won’t let her out of our sight, Son. I promise.” His patriarchal tone left no room for argument.

“Yeah,” I conceded. “I’ll do that.”

“You staying at her place?”

Fuck. “Yeah. No worries, I can check into a hotel.”

“Don’t be silly,” Linda said, waving her hand at me. “You have a key?”

If I wasn’t mistaken, there was a twinkle in her eyes.

“She gave me her spare this morning.”

I kissed Natalie’s pale cheek and said my goodbyes. Darkness greeted me when I stepped outside. My cell said it was 1:27 AM. God, I needed sleep. The drive to Natalie’s place passed in a blur. On autopilot, I showered, shaved, choked down a sandwich.

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