Page 8 of Too Broken to Love

“Well, he did.” She grabbed a piece of paper from the counter and handed it to him.

The scent of roses drifted toward him, warm and soft beneath the sharper notes of bourbon and tomato sauce, as he took the thick stationery he’d given Pop for Father’s Day. Blinking once, twice, he read the familiar handwriting. All it said was, “Love, Sam.”

Love?

Tessa glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Oh shit. Now he’s almost thirty minutes late. I hope he didn’t cut himself again.”

“He cut himself? Where? How bad?”

She held her phone to her ear. “He sliced the tip of his finger cutting a line last week. I closed up the wound with a butterfly bandage. He’s fine.”

Fine? First, she filleted Pop’s fish and now she was determining his health status. Fuck no. That was his job. “How do you know he’s okay? All kinds of infections from raw fish could kill a man Pop’s age.”

“Trust me. I used to be a paramedic.”

He did want to trust her, but hell, despite jealousy about the time she’d spent with Pop this past year, he still liked her. “The old man has a lot of explaining to do when I catch up with him.”

“Agreed. He’s not answering. I’ll try texting him. You try him too.” As she typed on the screen, the ruby slipped from between her fingers. “Crap.”

“I got it. You text Pop.” Hudson bent to pick up the ring, his phone buzzing in his pocket. He pulled it out and frowned.

Tessa slid next to him. “Is it Sam?” She glanced at the name on his screen and made a gagging sound.

Hudson chuckled. “I take it Pop told you what a prick Nathaniel is.”

“You mean pompous prick.”

Hudson laughed harder as he pressed the phone to his ear. “What?”

The laughter in his throat dried up. Cold fear numbed his body with each frantic word Nathaniel shouted. He shoved Pop’s ring in his pocket and clamped the sinker between his fingers hard enough to break it. “Where?”

Malcolm’s name lit up the display on the dashboard. Hudson jabbed his finger into the touchscreen. “Pop’s been in a car accident.”

“What?” Malcolm inhaled hard. “Holy fuck.”

Hudson tore through a yellow light as he spat out the location of the crash. “Where are you?”

“I just left a client around the corner. On my way.”

Tessa reached forward and ended the call. “That was your best friend, right?”

Hudson nodded, his throat too tight to utter another word.

She shielded her eyes against the setting sun and pointed. “There.”

A small crowd gathered at the top of the road hugging the bay. He hit the gas harder.

Please be alive. Please be alive.

The tires of his rental spun on the pavement. Gravel pinged off the bumper as he jerked the car onto the shoulder and threw it in park. “Stay here.”

He jumped out and looked down the steep embankment. “No.”

“Oh my God.” Tessa clutched his wrist.

Her sob shattered the numbness he’d clung to like a shield. A scream, so deep he could see the air wavering around him, unearthed itself from a place in his soul. The swells grew stronger as his focus locked on the front of Pop’s sedan crushed into the low concrete wall lining the bay.

Sirens wailed in the distance. A car door slammed behind him as he lurched forward and screamed at Malcolm over his shoulder. “Wait up here for the ambulance with Tessa.”