Page 81 of One Killer Night
“Hold on,” I rush out, putting a hand up to stop the onslaught of abuse when I see “Damon” scrolling across my phone screen.
“Hey,” I answer, partly breathless, still amused by her protests as she sticks her tongue out at me.
But the way he says my name makes my body turn cold. I shoot to my feet, eyes searching but landing on nothing in front of me. “Noah, what’s wrong?”
“Baby ...” Noah inhales deeply. He’s stammering, breathless, like he’s having a panic attack. My heart stops in my chest as Evie touches my arm.
“Noah, what’s happening? Are you okay?”
The moment he gets his voice back, he’s speaking a mile a minute. My hand shoots over my mouth as my eyes instantly glisten. “Oh my god. Noah, slow down.”
I turn toward my sister, then away, not knowing what to do with myself as I try and make sense of what he’s saying, answering back in broken sentences.
“How?” . . . “Okay.” . . . “Okay.” . . . “I will.”
My feet start moving, hands shaking as much as my voice as I run into my bedroom with my sister on my heels. “I’m leaving right now. Noah, I’m on my way. It’s gonna be okay. I love you.”
Evie’s standing in the doorway, her face fixed on me. “What the fuck just happened? What did he say?”
My teary eyes meet hers as I shove my feet into shoes and look around for my wallet.
“It’s Chase ... Evie, he’s at Mass General.” Her eyes grow owllike. “It was a hit-and-run.” My voice breaks at the end as she rushes toward me.
“I’m coming with you,” she says, wrapping me in a hug. I nod, still hearing the fear in Noah’s voice, breaking me.
“I’m taking the first flight. I don’t know when I can get there, but he can’t be alone ... Golds, Chase got hit on my bike ... This is my fault.” His voice breaks, and I know he’s trying not to cry. “My mom died alone. I wasn’t there ... Killer, you two are the only family I have left. This can’t happen again. Please, please.”
“Let me get the keys. I’ll drive,” Evie rushes out, our hug momentary because we dash from the apartment, still in our pajamas, with sneakers on our feet and fear on our faces.
Chase can’t die. He just can’t. Noah’s lost too much in life already.
We race to the car, out of breath and everything a blur.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I whisper as we pull into traffic. “Noah sounded so afraid, and I don’t know what to do. He said Chase’s family is in Europe but that he’s the emergency contact, so he has to call and tell them. Jesus, apparently Chase is in surgery right now. I don’t know how we’re gonna get information.” Tears stream down my face. “What if Noah loses him? They’re like brothers.”
“Listen to me,” she barks, stopping hard at a red light and staring into my eyes. “We’re not thinking like that. We’re fucking manifesting.Chase doesn’t die today.” I’m nodding back at her, my chin quivering. “He’s the goddamn father of my fish ... And none of us will ever eat again if he leaves. So, he’s living. And don’t worry, I’ll figure out a way to get us back there to him.”
I take a deep breath to stop my tears and face forward as her tires screech, hauling ass again.
“You’re right,” I whisper to myself. “Chase Beckett, you aren’t going anywhere. My future husband needs a best man, and I need a cool uncle for my future babies.”
“God, what is taking so long?” my sister huffs as she looks over at the glass door of the visitors’ room for the millionth time.
I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I don’t know. I just wish they’d give us more information.”
We’ve been at the hospital for hours, and outside of knowing that Chase is still in surgery, we haven’t been told anything new. Still, thank god my sister has a flair for a good lie because the only reason we know what we do is because of how convincingly she claimed to be Chase’s wife.
“Mrs. Beckett? I am Dr. Mathison. We’re so sorry, a Noah Adler was the emergency contact listed on his phone.”
“We’re newly married,” Evie rushes out, folding her arms behind her back and hiding her ring finger.
I blink as I glance at my sister, hoping her chest isn’t moving as fast as mine, but thankfully, she’s standing stoic.Please let this work, please let this work.
He nods. “Your husband needed extensive surgery. The accident fractured multiple ribs and dislocated his shoulder. He has a multitude of lacerations on his palms and arms. The good news is that x-rays show no trauma to his spine. But his femur is broken, and he has multiplefractures, as well as ligament and tendon damage to his right hand. They needed immediate surgical intervention—”
I gasp as Evie’s face swings to mine.
“Chase is a chef,” Evie says in explanation of our outburst. “He’ll need that hand, Doc.”
