“You with me?” I whispered.
Hands were at my back but I ignored them. Preston stared at me as I heard more running feet and bodies landing on their knees around Preston.
My hand darted out and caught his, my fingers curling around.
“Preston, stick with me,” I urged, my fingers squeezing.
“Gurney! ” I heard shouted.
Preston blinked.
I scooted closer and held his hand tighter.
“Hang on,” I whispered.
I watched his eyelids lower a mil imeter and his mouth went slack.
And I knew.
I knew.
I knew. I knew. I knew.
“Hang on! ” I shrieked then I was up, arms tight around me, one at my chest, one at my bel y and I struggled against the hold as they lifted Preston lifeless body onto a gurney.
“Hang on! ” I screeched.
They strapped him in.
“Hang on! ” I screamed.
They pul ed the gurney up to its ful height and wasted not a second in rushing it in a rol across the lawn, the drive and into the ambulance.
“Please hang on,” I whispered, the fight left me, oozing out and my body went slack in the arms surrounding me.
When it did, those arms turned me. I looked up at Wil ie Moses just as his hand curled around the back of my head and he shoved my face in his throat.
I again burst into tears, my legs col apsing from under me as the weight of knowing a man might have lost his life to save mine settled on me, the weight heavy, crushing and Wil ie’s arms got tighter.
“Find Mace,” I felt as wel as heard Wil ie order. “Now.” Then, into the top of my hair, he whispered, “Hang on, honey.”
I felt Juno’s body press against the side of my legs and somehow found the strength to lift up my hands, curl them in Wil ie’s shirt and hang on.
*
Mace
Mace slid the dark, heavy hair off Stel a’s neck, eyes locked to her sleeping profile.
Then he pul ed in breath.
Then his hand moved from his woman to her dog, he slid his fingers through the fur on Juno’s head and he whispered, “Stay with her.”
Juno blinked up at him then shuffled on her bel y closer to Stel a.
Mace straightened from sitting on the side of the bed in one of Daisy’s guest rooms; he switched out the light and walked out the door.
He was nearly to the stairs when Daisy made it up them.
She stopped as did he.
Her blue eyes captured his, her head tipped to the side then her hand came up. She rested it gently on his jaw and pressed lightly as her eyes held his and she let them and her hand communicate for her.
Her hand and her eyes had a lot to say, they didn’t waste time and al of it was beautiful.
She dropped her hand and whispered, “Your Momma and Chloe are in the great room.”
Then without waiting for a response, she skirted him and walked down the hal without looking back.
Mace watched her while he thought, not for the first time, that Daisy Sloan was a good woman.
Then he walked down to Daisy and Marcus’s great room where Chloe was sitting on a sofa staring vacantly into the dark, unlit fireplace and his Mom was standing at a window staring vacantly into the dark night. They were in their own thoughts, not pleasant ones, as they wouldn’t be. An attraction, a bad decision, giving their heart to the wrong man and then no end to heartache.
And now closure but not the right kind.
The instant he entered, Chloe’s neck twisted, her eyes shot to him and she asked, “How is she?”
His Mom turned from the window as Mace answered,
“Out.”
“She take the pil s?” Lana asked.
Mace nodded, stopped and sat on the armrest of the couch.
He was wiped, fucking shattered. He felt like he could sleep for a goddamned week. He not only felt like it, he wanted to do it.
But he wanted to do it somewhere where there was a beach right outside his room, Stel a in his bed and no one around for miles.
Lana moved toward him saying, “She’l be okay, sweetie.”
He knew that. He knew it.
He knew it because, if Stel a didn’t wake up that way, he’d make her that way even if it took a lifetime.
Lana stopped two feet in front of him and looked down at him.
Then, softly, she asked, “Okay, now, are you okay?”
“He died for her,” Mace replied bluntly and Lana drew in breath through her nose as he felt Chloe tense down the couch from him.
“Why the fuck would he throw himself in front of a bul et to save Stel a and he wouldn’t – ?” Mace started and Lana moved.
Closing the distance between him, her palm came to his cheek, fingers curled around his jaw forcing his face to look up at hers.
Jesus, he missed her touch.
Jesus.
He should have fucking remembered his Mom could soothe a hurt just with her touch.
He didn’t remember.