Page 121 of I Knead You Tonight

“He’s okay, though. We’re just here as a precautionary measure. Sully brought us in. He—”

“I’m on my way.”

Not able to stand another word from Winston, I end the call and shove my cell into my back pocket as I race down the hall toward the exit.

“Drew? Where are you—”

“Hospital!” I call to Simon over my shoulder as I charge out the front door of Slice.

“Hospital? What?” He tries to race after me, but I’m pulling open my car door and throwing it into reverse before he can even get outside.

I peel out of the lot, hook a right, and floor it to the hospital.

I don’t bother to stop at the stop signs, blasting through them all.

Reckless, yes.

Necessary? Also yes.

I pull up to the hospital less than five minutes later, and it’s one of the few times I’m so glad this town is as small as it is.

I don’t even remember pulling into a parking spot, just sprinting through the emergency room doors, haggardly breathing as I approach the check-in station.

“Woods. Riker Woods.”

“Relation?” asks the nurse manning the station.

“Do I look like a concerned neighbor? I’m his mother.”

She nods, mouth pinched tightly. “Right this way, ma’am.”

The woman leads me back into a cold, sterile hallway.

Behind a curtain, I can see Winston’s feet as he paces back and forth.

I realize then I have to face him.

I don’t want to face him.

The nurse pulls the curtain back. “I’ll get your doctor for you.”

I don’t even bother looking at Winston, who knows better than to try to get in my way as I barge past him to my son.

Riker’s lying in a crib, his eyes seeking me out. He grins the moment he recognizes me, and I choke back a sob at the sight of him, relief washing over me.

Minus the bruise forming on his head, he looks okay.

I reach into the crib, running my thumb over his chubby cheeks.

“Hey, angel. How you doing? You okay?” He coos, and I want to pick him up so badly. “I’m sorry, buddy. I am so, so sorry.”

Winston comes to stand behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating off him.

Glancing back at him, I let my eyes travel up his body.

He’s wearing those boots I love and the jeans that hug his ass just right. There’s a flannel shirt tied around his waist. If it wasn’t for the sling around his arm, he’d look just like he did the night he told me I was going home with him, the night this all began.

Funny, because I’m certain this is the night it will all end.

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