Love in the Light - Laura Kaye Page 0,23

out of the movie theater after seeing the last showing of a new action flick, their bellies full of Chinese food and popcorn—everyone had been ready for a change of menu after several meals in a row of turkey and stuffing. The sidewalks were crunchy with rock salt and patches of ice that hadn’t been shoveled away.

Four inches of snow had fallen yesterday, which wasn’t bad for Pennsylvania. But then freezing rain had fallen over night after the streets had been plowed, so driving had been more hazardous today then it’d been yesterday, but luckily her dad and Caden hadn’t minded bringing them out to the movies.

“Be safe heading home, kids,” her dad called as he, Ian, Collin, and Shima passed Caden’s Jeep and headed over to Dad’s Ford Explorer.

“Will do,” Caden said, unlocking the doors. Makenna hopped in the back seat so Patrick could have the front.

Yawning, Makenna secured her seatbelt and sagged back against the seat as Caden pulled out of the lot. He followed her dad’s car through the commercial area around the mall to where the surroundings became surburban and then almost rural-looking on the way to their house.

As the lights receded, Makenna’s eyelids grew heavy. And against the backdrop of Caden and Patrick talking, she finally stopped fighting it and let herself drift off.

A sudden jerk startled Makenna awake. Screeching tires. The Jeep fishtailed hard in one direction and then the other.

“Fuck,” Patrick bit out.

The Jeep came to a hard stop, jolting Makenna against her seatbelt and knocking the breath out of her.

Both men seat turned to her. “Are you okay?” they asked.

“Yeah. What happened?” Her eyes focused on the scene out the front window. Two cars sat just off the road at an intersection. One was an Explorer. “Oh, my God. Dad.” She ripped at the seat belt buckle.

“Makenna, call 9-1-1. Patrick and I will check it out,” Caden said. He flew out of the driver’s seat, ran to the trunk and grabbed something, and then ran toward the accident. Patrick was already opening her father’s car door.

She pressed the phone to her ear as she jumped out of the Jeep. Caden had managed to stop in plenty of time, his Jeep just off the road. He’d placed an orange cone at the back corner of his vehicle.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” the dispatcher answered.

“I’m calling to report an accident,” Makenna said, jogging toward the scene, heart racing. She recounted what’d happened and let the dispatcher know that an off-duty police officer and paramedic were on scene.

“Can you put me on with either of them when they’ve assessed for injuries?” the dispatcher asked.

“Yes. Let me get them,” Makenna said. She didn’t know how either Patrick or Caden did this kind of thing every day, because just the act of calling 911 had adrenaline flowing through her system until she was shivering. It was more than just the cold, she knew that much for sure. Dread flowing through her, she approached the driver’s side of her father’s truck and could see that the front end was crumpled.

Patrick leaned into her father’s door while Caden stood in the rear driver’s side doorway, a big medic kit opened next to him. She peered in to see Collin, bleeding from the forehead and grimacing. Oh God.

“The dispatcher would like to talk to one of you,” she said.

Patrick held out his hand, and she passed him the phone. He rose and stepped away from the vehicle.

Makenna leaned in and gently touched her father’s arm. The air bags had deployed inside the car. “Daddy, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, peanut. The seatbelt just took the wind out of me. I’ll be fine,” he said, his voice like gravel.

“Hang tight, Collin. I don’t want you to move until we can get your neck immobilized, okay?” Caden asked, snapping off one pair of gloves and putting on another. “Let me check your dad. I’ll be right back.”

Makenna stepped away to let Caden pass and Ian came around from the passenger side. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

“Yeah. Shima and I are fine. Collin didn’t have his seat belt on, though,” Ian said, the words not critical, just worried.

As she watched, Caden listened to her father’s heartbeat and took his pulse, and then he unbuttoned her father’s shirt and examined his chest in the dim overhead light.

“How are they?” Patrick asked Caden, phone still pressed to his ear.

“Collin has a mild head injury, a scalp lac, and a probable rib fracture,” Caden said in