Worth It All (The McKinney Brothers #3)

By the time I finished my cereal, took a shower and ran a load of laundry, I was ready for bed. The stress of not knowing whether Colby was safe had worn me out.

As I curled up beneath the covers, I said a prayer for all the people who hadn’t been as lucky as me today. The families of nine people had been changed forever, and though I didn’t know them, I still mourned.



A dull, rhythmic pounding pulled me from a deep sleep. I sat up in bed and looked around, confused.

The clock on my nightstand read 7:04. I’d slept for almost nine hours.

When I heard the thudding noise this time, I realized someone was knocking on the front door. I got up and slipped into a bathrobe, wondering who would be here at this hour. My mom never woke up before noon. Not because she was drunk or anything, but because sleeping was her escape from life.

I pulled open the front door and saw a uniformed police officer, his hat in his hands in front of him. My heart pounded. Police officers never came to the door with good news. Especially not at this hour.

“What’s going on?” I asked, dispensing with a greeting.

“Drew McGovern?”

“That’s me.”

Immediately, my mind went to Daniel. Had he and Shawn gone out last night? He’d promised me he didn’t drink. A choking terror took hold. My brother and sister meant so much to me.

“Miss McGovern, I’m sorry to be bringing some sad news,” the officer said. “Colby Harrington was gravely injured early this morning in a motor-vehicle/pedestrian accident.”

I gripped the doorframe. Blood whooshed through my ears. I just stared at the officer, not even blinking.

“He stopped on the highway to change the tire of a stranded motorist. It was raining, and the driver of a truck didn’t see him and struck both the vehicle and Mr. Harrington. I’m so sorry. I contacted Mr. Harrington’s mother, and she asked me to deliver the news to you. She’s with him at Mercy Medical Center.”

I swallowed the massive lump in my throat. “He’s…alive, then?”

The officer’s face fell. “Technically, yes. But I believe it’s more for loved ones to get a chance to say their goodbyes.”

“I see.”

“Can I offer you a ride to the hospital?”

My mind swirled. I wanted to collapse onto the rotting boards of the front porch, but I wouldn’t let myself. Colby was alive. He was alive and he was hurt and I had to get to him.

“I’d appreciate that,” I said. “Just give me one minute to get dressed.”

I was in a daze as I slipped on some clothes and grabbed my purse. Mercifully, the officer didn’t try to make small talk on the twenty-minute drive to the hospital.

We were getting married in forty-three days. He’d proposed on Christmas Eve just five months ago. I ran my fingers over the platinum ring on my finger, remembering the shine in his eyes as he’d slid it on.

He was hurt, but he was alive. Through his job as a high school teacher and coach, he had good health insurance. Colby was a bright light. His glow was magnetic and strong. A glow like that didn’t just disappear. He was a fighter, and he’d fight his way through this.

“ICU’s on the third floor,” the officer said as he pulled up to the emergency room entrance.

I thanked him and went inside, looking down as I stepped onto the elevator. I’d put on running shorts, a T-shirt and a pair of worn-out house slippers with a hole in one toe. Not that it mattered.

When I stepped off the elevator, I approached the nurses’ station.

“Colby Harrington,” I said. “I’m his—”

“You must be Drew.”

“Did he ask for me?” My voice broke and I cleared my throat.

She shook her head. “His mother said you’d be coming.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’ll take you in,” she said, coming around the desk and wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

She led me through a door and my heart pounded wildly as we walked into the room. I saw Carla first, standing next to the wall of windows with her arms crossed. She clutched a wad of used tissues in one hand.

I hardly recognized Colby. Bandages covered his head, with only his closed eyes, nose and mouth exposed.

The nurse still had her arm around me. I turned to her.

“There’s a tube in his throat connected to a ventilator, and that’s helping him breathe,” she said.

I nodded. Carla was coming toward me now, her arms outstretched. I stepped away from the nurse and held Carla as she cried. She sobbed for several minutes before pulling away and wiping her face with the tissues in her hand.

“The doctor’s supposed to be coming in,” she said.

I squeezed her hand and went to Colby’s side. His long, dark eyelashes rested on his cheeks in an achingly familiar way. I’d woken up to this sight many times.

A man in a white coat walked in and introduced himself as Dr. Tisdale. The nurse left the room, closing the door behind her, and the doctor sat down in a chair at the foot of Colby’s bed.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking between me and Carla. “His injuries are extensive.”

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