Page 81 of Fight from the Heart

“Pam was in a car accident earlier this evening.”

“What?” I choke, my vision immediately blurring. “What happened?”

“She hit a deer just off Winters Trail, your road. It was evening, and the EMT guesses the deer was crossing the road. How she didn’t see it, we don’t know. It was huge.” Ella pauses, and I hear the swallow. “He had spring antlers and landed on her Jeep, breaking the windshield. His antlers punched the airbag, Jacob.”

My eyes close a second while I’m driving. Please, no. If there is a God, don’t take the good in this world.

“Ella,” I croak, needing her to continue.

“She hit that steering wheel hard, but thankfully, the deer didn’t hit her.”

“What does that mean?” The question is a choked whisper.

“It means, another inch closer and . . . I don’t want to think about what it would mean. We’re all at the hospital in Traverse City.”

“How bad is it?”

“I haven’t seen her, but she’s still unconscious and has been for hours. Bruises and broken ribs from what I’m told. They’re keeping her for observation.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. My palms sweat as they grip the steering wheel, and my foot grows heavier on the gas. The darkness outside my window turns into a vortex, rushing past me as I fly down an empty highway. My world feels like it’s spiraling out of control.

“I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I quickly tell her where I’m at and click off the phone. Sending up a silent prayer for Pam to hang on, I try not to think about how just when I thought everything good could fall into place, I could also lose all that’s important to me.

Chapter 28

Moment of Truth

[Jacob]

When I enter Pam’s room in the early hours of the morning, I take several short breaths. I’m certain I broke every speed limit on what should have been a four-hour drive to get here in two, and I’m a wreck, especially when I see her in a hospital bed looking broken and small.

A woman in her sixties sits at Pam’s side, and I assume she’s her mother as their eyes match.

“How is she?” I ask before even introducing myself. This isn’t exactly the way I hoped to meet her mother.

“She’ll be alright. She’s a survivor. It’s in her nature.” Her mother kindly smiles at me, the curl of her lips matching her daughter’s.

“I’m Jacob,” I offer. “Jacob Vincentia, the writer and the man she works for. I called you when—”

She holds up a hand to stop me as the words are falling out in a rush.

“I know who you are. You’re the boss.” She smiles again, but this time it does reach her eyes.

“I’m also in love with your daughter.” The curl of her mouth grows larger, and her eyes finally show a spark.

“It’s nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Mary.” Instead of just shaking my hand, she cups mine with both of hers and then steps aside. “Why don’t you sit here?”

Taking her seat, I sit and stare down at the woman who breathes life into me. I hate how helpless she looks.

“Angel,” I whisper, holding her hand while brushing back her hair. She looks beautiful and awful, and I’m just so glad she’s alive. Being in this hospital is a déjà vu to our first official meeting—well, actually the second—and I’d reverse our roles if it would prevent her from being hurt. I’d gladly put myself back in that bed instead of her lying there, looking so broken, but I also promised her, and myself, I’ll never be in that position again.

Her eyes are swollen, both black and blue. Her nose bruised as well. I scan her midsection as if I can see through the blanket to the broken ribs and any other bruises. “She’s so beautiful,” I say to her sleeping form and the presence of her mother. A sob chokes me, and I lower my head for her hand. A hand comes to my shoulder, and a soft voice follows.

“We’re just glad you’re here,” her mother tells me, and she has no idea how grateful I am to be here as well.

+ + +

Brightness fills the hospital as I wake with a kink in my neck. I slowly lift my head and rub at the sore muscles while still holding Pam with my other hand.