Warning Track (Callahan Family #1) - Carrie Aarons Page 0,75
come out of his red rage a little.
Walker’s gaze falls upon Hannah, and then he’s transformed. The anger turns to compassion, and he bends right down, scooping her up so that her head falls onto his chest.
“I’ve you got. I’m right here,” he murmurs low in her ear.
She clings to him, and I watch in a state of shock as he gingerly carries her back toward the stadium.
“Colleen, call. Now.” Hayes’ voice is a struggled grunt, but as I turn back to him, I see Shane slowly relaxing in his hold.
Hannah’s husband slumps to the ground, finally passed out, and Hayes steadies himself against the car. His green eyes search mine, holding all the words of love, care, and desperation I feel. This man, the one I turned out of my life, acting like a hero. The hero that I want holding me up forever.
It only takes five minutes after my 911 call for the cops and ambulances to show up, sirens screeching into the parking lot.
36
Hayes
Adrenaline and exhaustion compete in my veins, causing a hysteria that confuses both my brain and body.
It’s been a blur of an hour, between the statements to police, standing by as Shane is carted off in handcuffs, and all three of us urging Hannah to tell the complete truth. She’s skittish and in pain, I’ve never seen a human being so frightened and this is coming from a kid who grew up in foster care.
I could throw Shane through a brick wall, I’m so furious. Too bad Walker kind of beat me to the punch. Now there is built-up rage in my fists, and I itch to go down to the weight room and throw a few punches at the bag.
But I have to stay here, cooing at Hannah like she’s a wounded doe while the paramedics check her out.
“Hannah, I’m so proud of you,” I tell her, trying to imitate one of the men at a center I used to visit in Los Angeles.
One of my volunteer projects in LA was at a women’s shelter that provided housing so that children wouldn’t be taken from their mothers who were on unemployment. Kids who would have likely ended up in the foster system were spared because of this nonprofit, and I’d been there when the director would, from time to time, have to talk one of the mothers off the ledge from going back to an abusive partner or spouse.
“You’re doing the right thing, for the girls, too. Whatever you need, we will get you. You can come stay with me, or I’ll find you a place.” Colleen is holding her hand.
Walker rushes back over from where he just got done talking to the police. Pushing us both aside, he cradles Hannah against his chest, and my eyes go wide.
That is not the kind of embrace that a man shows someone who is in need of help, or even a friendly acquaintance. No, there is something territorial in his stance, in the way he holds her to him. A look passes between Colleen and me, but now is not the time to discuss any of the things we’re seeing.
When the EMTs finally tell us that she has at best a bad concussion and at worst a brain bleed, I can see that Colleen is on the verge of tears. They need to take her to the hospital for scans and stitches, and there is no discussion as Walker hops into the ambulance with her without a backward glance.
Colleen and I are left standing in the loading dock of the ballpark where the cops and ambulance met us when they arrived.
Before I can even say anything, a sob explodes from her. I catch her just as she falls into me, smoothing her hair as she cries into my shirt. After a few minutes of body-wracking tears, she clears her throat and looks up, still holding on to me.
“God, I’m sorry, I just … that was horrible.” Her amber eyes are glassy, but I’ve never seen someone so beautiful.
Now that she’s in my arms, after what I witnessed tonight, I’m not sure I’ll ever let her go. I smooth the hair off her forehead, letting my fingers linger there.
“Don’t apologize. It was horrible, you’re right.” I shrug, because there isn’t much else I can say.
I have no idea why a man would treat the woman he loves like that. Especially one who seems as kind as Hannah, though I haven’t known her long. There is nothing