Page 6 of Irresistibly Wicked

“Yeah, for a bit.” He snagged the blanket off the couch and began folding it. “I got in pretty late.”

“Did you go to John’s?” she asked carefully. The flash of defensiveness in his eyes cut her to her core.

“Yes, I did, but I meant what I said. That was it for me. I’m done. I won’t let you down again. Anchors forever, right? I go down, you go down, and I love you too much to do that to you.”

Still waters or reckless tides, anchors forever, side by side. They were barely out of high school and high as kites sitting on some stranger’s boat that they’d snuck onto in a Jersey Shore marina when they’d made that promise to each other, but that didn’t undermine their vow. Their love and loyalty to each other were unbreakable. But she’d made the cardinal mistake for people in recovery. She’d gotten too comfortable, had taken his sobriety for granted. She knew better, and she could kick herself for missing the early signs that Brian was in trouble. If she’d only paid more attention, maybe she could’ve kept him from picking up the bottle again.

“Brian, you know this isn’t about me. I’m here for you, and I’ll support you in every way, but whatever you do or don’t do has to be for you.”

“I know. It is for me, but I know I let you down, and this is tearing you up. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Addiction is a disease, not a character flaw,” she reminded him and herself. “What you see are my feelings toward this fucking unfair disease.”

“Yeah, well, we both know the disease and I are one and the same. I didn’t just let you down. I let myself down, but I’m not some dumb kid anymore. I made mistakes, and I’m not minimizing them. I know this is bad, and I take full responsibility. You do not need to worry.”

Exhausted, she could do little more than nod, because of course she’d worry. They might not be a couple anymore, but they’d always be joined at the hip, and she knew how promises could be made with confidence in times of clarity and just as quickly drowned in weaker moments.

“I need to sleep,” she said.

As she headed for her bedroom, she realized that for the first time since she’d started working at the firehouse, he hadn’t asked how her shift went.

Chapter Three

ZANDER TRIED TO open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. He felt strange, like he was underwater, trying to get to the surface. Muffled voices and a steady beep, beep, beep had him trying harder. He managed to open them just enough to see through the fuzz of his lashes. Squinting against too-bright lights, he made out shadowy figures moving closer to him.

“He’s awake. Honey, he’s awake!” His mother’s face appeared close to his, her smile warm, her eyes worried. “Zander. Hi, sweetheart. Dad and I are right here with you.” She took Zander’s hand as his father leaned down from the other side of the bed, Preacher’s familiar blue eyes studying him.

“We’re here, son.” He placed his rough, warm hand on Zander’s forearm. “How do you feel?”

“Tired.” Zander didn’t recognize his own scratchy voice. He tried to see beyond his parents, searching for the angel who’d been singing and talking to him, but he couldn’t focus. “Where is she?”

“Who, baby?” his mother asked.

All Zander wanted to do was sleep. “Angel,” he murmured groggily.

“Sounds like those pain meds are doing their job,” his father said with amusement.

“She was…” He swallowed, but his throat felt rough. “Real.”

“You probably heard the nurses talking, sweetheart. You’re in the hospital. You were in a car accident last week,” his mother explained.

They weren’t making sense. Wouldn’t he remember a car accident? The last thing he remembered was leaving some woman’s house and talking to Zeke on the phone. “Accident?”

“Yes, honey. You were on your way to work, and a truck ran a red light and hit your car,” his mother explained. “The guy who hit you took off, but they got him. Traffic cameras caught the whole thing, and Justice is handling it. You won’t need to go to court. You can put all of your energy into getting better, and he’ll take care of everything.” Justice was an attorney and a Dark Knight.

“You got pretty banged up,” his father said. “Broken ribs, a punctured lung. You fractured your skull, too. You’ve been in a medically induced coma for a week. They just brought you out of it this morning. We explained all of this to you earlier, but the doctor said between the pain meds and the sedation, it might be hard to process.”

A week? That didn’t seem possible. He reached up to feel his head and winced when he touched a large, tender bump.

“That’s going to hurt for a while,” his mother said.

“All those times your brothers teased you about being thickheaded, little did they know it would come in handy one day.” His father’s voice was laden with emotion.

“They here?” Zander asked hoarsely.

“They were earlier,” his mother said. “You’ve been going in and out of sleep all afternoon.”

“The whole family was camped out in the waiting room for days,” his father said. “Aunt Ginger, Uncle Con, and all your cousins, including Baz. He and Emerson came home from Indonesia with little Brennan the minute they heard what happened. Your uncles and aunts from Colorado, New York, and Maryland are all praying for you, and Grandpa Mike has been here every day.”