Steve and Paul’s orthopedic center was just blocks from Philadelphia General.
“Eventually, I was able to pull one of the cops aside to find out what the hell was going on. Apparently, someone clipped a college kid who was riding his bike with their car. The kid flew over the handlebars. He wore a helmet, but it rang his bell and messed up his knee. Steve was helping the driver get the kid out of the road. The three of them were nearly to the curb when Steve suddenly shoved the kid and the guy out of the way. Steve got hit seconds later.”
Jagger steamed out a breath as he scrubbed at his jaw. This was going to crush Grace.
“From what I understand, it was an older woman—the person who hit Steve,” Paul said. “She said she didn’t see him until it was too late. It’s dark out there tonight with all the rain.”
“Damn,” Jagger said. “I’ll have to give the police a call and find out who’s working the case.”
“The cop mentioned that they would reach out to Grace, but I wasn’t sure of her contact information at that time. I had to call Steve’s assistant, Jade. It took us a few minutes to find the number for Maggie’s shop. By that point, the cop was gone.” Paul rubbed at the back of his neck again. “I know they were going to look at the cameras in the area for a better idea of what’s what.”
“What are Steve’s chances for a full recovery?”
Paul shook his head. “I’m an anti-aging doctor, Jagger.”
“But you have an idea.”
Paul sighed. “They’ve managed the blood loss, and eventually, his bones will heal. It’s the head trauma that has me worried. We need to get through the next forty-eight hours, but Grace needs to be prepared. The intracranial pressure’s a problem.”
Grace walked out of the bathroom, sending Paul and him a forced smile.
Jagger studied her, noting that her eyes were dry, but her shoulders were rigid, and her cheeks were still pale after her visit with her dad. “Here’s my girl.”
Grace’s lips curved again. “Here I am.”
“We should head to the cafeteria for something to eat.”
Grace shook her head. “If you want to go, I’ll stay here and wait for more news.”
Paul glanced at his watch. “I gave Jagger your dad’s keys.”
Grace frowned. “I can’t leave.” She looked at Jagger. “We can’t leave.”
Paul took her hand. “It’s well after ten, hon. There’s nothing more you can do for now.”
“This is where I need to be.”
Paul shook his head. “The best thing we can all do is get some rest. Doctor Hardy and Doctor Shed are still in surgery. It’s doubtful they’ll be able to talk to you before tomorrow morning. I’ll sit with Steve and call you if anything changes.”
Jagger stepped in. “Let’s get something to eat and catch a nap. We can come back in a couple of hours.”
Grace hesitated. “I told him I would be right outside.”
“We’ve already bent the rules,” Paul added. “They won’t let you see him again until eight a.m. This is going to be a long process, Grace. Your dad needs you rested.”
Jagger nodded when she looked at him. “We should listen to Paul.”
Grace sighed. “Okay. But just for a couple of hours.”
Jagger let his shoulders relax a little. He wanted Grace out of there, so he could fill her in on what he’d just learned about Steve’s accident—the fucking tragedy of it all. He didn’t want to mention it, but she would find out sooner rather than later, so he would tell her in his own way. “We’ll see you in a little while.”
Twenty-Three
Jagger drove Grace’s Sorento through the soggy streets of downtown Philly, remembering the route to Steve’s place easily enough.
He, Grace, and Logan had made the drive from Wakeview to the posh city condo several times during their high school years.
Tickets to professional sporting events, five-star dinners at fantastic restaurants, and exclusive parties with numerous well-known athletes filled more than a few of their weekends during the off-season.