For The Love of Easton (For the Love Of #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,88
that, then you’ll never travel again.”
That thought had occurred to me already, only I hadn’t mentioned it. Leaving English wasn’t something I cared to do again. The idea of it hadn’t sat well earlier, and now, after what happened, I wouldn’t even consider it.
“You can’t be serious.” Beck stared at me as though I’d lost my mind. “You can’t be English’s keeper. I understand you want to be protective of her, but if she could hear you right now, she’d kick your ass.”
“Maybe, maybe not. We’ll have to see. That is if she’s able to ever speak again.”
“How can you even say that? You haven’t seen her and you don’t know the outcome. They won’t even know until they bring her out of the coma. They’re allowing her brain to heal.” When I didn’t answer, he shook his head. “Of all the reactions, I never expected this from you.”
I stared him down. “She’s your daughter and you’re acting as though you don’t care.”
His blue-green eyes turned frosty, reminding me of English’s. “That was a hit below the belt. I love my daughter more than words. But I am trying to be positive. You’re acting like there is no hope for her whatsoever, and that is a terrible way to look at things. I never took you for such a doom-and-gloom kind of man.”
His words gave me the punch in the face I needed. A loud sigh wheezed out of me. “Hey, man, I’m sorry. You’re right. I am being overly negative. The thing is, when I left her, a sense of dread hit me that was impossible to shake. Maybe it was foreboding. I don’t know. Anyway, I need to get a better attitude about this.”
“Yeah, you do.”
We didn’t say much more that night. He was worried, only he did better at hiding it than me. In the morning, we rode to the airport and boarded the plane.
On the way over here, I hadn’t been happy about the long hours spent aboard the plane, but going home was different. I ticked off each hour as it took me closer and closer to my girl. No, not my girl, my wife. I spent the hours loading the photos on my laptop and deleting the duplicates.
I fell asleep a time or two, but woke with a start as I knew I’d be home soon. Beck and I didn’t sit together, since it was a last-minute reservation. We hadn’t gotten first-class seats either, and I didn’t care. All I wanted and needed was to get home.
At last, we landed in San Francisco. Only one final stretch to go. We called Sheridan and there were no new updates. Going through customs took a while, making our connection time short.
The final leg of the journey was spent doing the same thing I’d done before. The photos were spectacular, though I deleted about half of them as they were duplicates. I was excited for English to see them and was sure she would, even if it wasn’t right away.
When we touched down, I nearly clapped. Beck looked over at me and said, “We made it.”
“Finally.”
We raced to baggage claim, only to stand and wait. When our bags dropped, we got someone to help as we went to hail a cab. Then we were off.
“Your place or mine?” Beck asked.
“How about mine and I’ll drop you at yours? I plan on staying at the hospital for a while so we’ll both need our cars.”
“Fine with me.”
We were dropped off at English’s house and, after dumping my bags, we loaded Beck’s into my car and I dropped him off at his place. Then I drove straight for the hospital. When I got to the ICU floor, I saw Sheridan and Stacey in the waiting room. They both stood when they saw me.
“Hey, can you give me an update?”
“She’s the same. You’ll be able to go in soon. They have those weird visiting hours up here. You can only stay for thirty minutes at a time,” Sheridan said as she hugged me.
I asked, “How did this happen?”
“Her brakes went out and then someone ran her off the road. She’d already called 911 before the accident because she knew she was in trouble. Or that’s what we were told from dispatch.”
“Jesus.”
“Tristian, there’s something else you should know. It happened on the way home from Easton’s riding lesson on the same road your father’s accident occurred.”
My heart fell. This was no accident. Someone had tampered with her car.