Page 62 of Best of Me

“Two hours too long,” I grumble under my breath just as his cell rings.

He lets it go to voice mail, but it immediately starts ringing again. “Is everything okay, GG?” he asks, skipping over any kind of greeting.

“What?” His grip on the wheel tightens. “Is she…fuck. We’re on our way.” I shoot him an inquisitive look as he ends the call and flips on our lights and siren.

“Everything okay?” I ask just as the radio crackles with dispatch reporting an accident, involving two vehicles at the eleven-hundred block of Main Street, unknown injuries. Dread pools in my gut—that’s so close to where the girls went out and with Jenny’s frantic call to Nate…I repeat my question. “Is everything okay?”

Nate radios in that we’re responding to the call. “I need you to stay calm,” he tells me, instantly setting me on edge. “Mallory was—”

“No!” A pained cry rips from my lips as I bring my fist down onto the dash. “No! Tell me something else. Anything!” My heart is beating so hard it feels like it might give out at any moment. I break out into a cold sweat as agony washes over me. Surely the universe isn’t this cruel. “Sh-she’s okay, r-right? Tell me she’s okay. What did Jenny say?” I sling my questions rapid fire, one after the other, my voice sounding crazed even to my own ears.

“I don’t know. Jenny says she was hit pulling onto the highway and that she spun a few times into the ditch. That’s all I know, brother.”

My chest heaves as I swallow down the nausea burning the back of my throat. Tears wet my eyes, threatening to spill, but I blink them back. Nate reaches over and gives my hand a firm squeeze in an attempt to comfort me. But the only thing that can calm the inferno inside of me is seeing Mallory.

Smiling.

Breathing.

Alive.

“She has to be okay,” I wheeze, the effort of actually inhaling in a breath is too much for my oxygen starved lungs. The dread in my gut rolls as we pull up to the scene, the night sky lit up by a sea of red and blue flashing lights.

When I catch sight of Mallory’s Rav-4 in the ditch, the driver’s side smashed in and the windshield a spiderweb of cracks and fissures, I’m out of the cruiser before Nate can even put it in park.

A sick sense of déjà vu crawls over my skin as I sprint toward the wreckage, memories of Valorie’s death torturing me as I pray, beg, and plead with any god who will listen for a different outcome this time around—for Mallory to be safe and whole and unharmed—for this to all have been a misunderstanding.

“Kincaid!” I barely slow as the familiar voice calls out again, this time adding three words that cause my heart to pound even harder in my chest. “Kincaid! She’s over here.”

“Duke?” My head snaps up at the sound of Mallory’s sweet—albeit raspy—voice. My girl is wrapped in a blanket sitting in the back of the ambulance as a paramedic checks her over. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Cricket.” I breathe her name on a sigh of relief, damn near falling to my knees as I take her in. She may not be smiling, but she’s alive and breathing. “Fuck, baby!” I’m inside the box with her before the medic has a chance to say anything. Although, with the way he’s eyeing me, I doubt he would even try.

My eyes rake over her body from head-to-toe, cataloging her injuries. Bruises are already forming across her chest from the seat belt and she has a small but deep cut near her left brow. “You’re really okay?” Disbelief weighs heavy, like maybe this is all a dream—an illusion created by my mind to protect me from reliving the same nightmare all over again;different twin, same outcome.

She nods, wincing a little. The movement bringing me back to the here and now. “Yeah, yes. I’m fine. Just a little banged up.”Thank fucking God.

I step closer to her, taking her hand in mine, needing that physical contact to prove that this is real—that she’s alive and here. “You’re sure?” My eyes slide over her again before flicking up to the paramedic, seeking his professional opinion.

“Heart rate and BP are slightly elevated. Aside from the laceration to her face—which should be just fine with a butterfly bandage—I suspect she may have a mild concussion. I’d suggest she gets checked over at the hospital just to be safe.”

“No, I’m—”

“I’ll drive her.”

Mallory crosses her arms over her chest, grimaces, and immediately drops them back to her sides. “Don’t I get a say?”

I kneel before her, ghosting my fingertips over her cheeks before softly clasping her chin in my hands. “Baby. Please go. For me. You’re the most precious thing in my life. I fucking love you, Mallory, and I…”—my voice breaks—“…I need toknowthat you’re okay.”

She gasps. “You…you said…”

I lean in and press a soft kiss to her lips. “I. Love. You.” Each word is decorated with a kiss. “So damn much, so let’s get you to the hospital. Please, baby?”

Her throat works as she swallows. “Okay,” she whispers her consent and I take what feels like my first full breath since the call came in.

I stand and help Mallory down before swooping her up into my arms and carrying her straight to the cruiser. Nate sees us as I walk past him and falls into step beside me. “You all good, Mally?”

She rolls her head to look his way. “Yeah, I am.” Her voice sounds dreamy, like she’s on the verge of deep sleep.

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