Eva?
*missed call from Tristan Baptiste*
Fucking pick up.
Please.
*missed call from Tristan Baptiste*
*missed call from Tristan Baptiste*
I’m almost there.
Hang in there, kitten.
7
EVA
“You’ll wishwe had by the time we’re done with you.”
Cole’s voice echoed in my dreams, mixing with the steady beep of machines until I couldn’t tell what was memory and what was nightmare. Strong hands held me down. Pain lanced through my chest.
“Eva, honey, you’re safe.” My father’s voice cut through the fog. “You’re okay.”
I forced my eyes open, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights. Everything hurt. A sharp pain stabbed through my ribs with each breath, and something tugged at my hand when I tried to lift it.
“Where—?” The word caught in my throat, dry and rasping.
“Mount Sinai Regional,” Dad said, his familiar, calloused fingers wrapping around mine. Stubble darkened his jaw, and dark circles emphasized the pallor of his skin underneath the smattering of freckles that betrayed our Irish heritage. “You were in an accident on 95.”
The steady beep of monitors filled the silence as fragments of memory crashed through me. Snow. The flash ofheadlights. Screeching brakes. The semi crossing the median. The impact.
“Here.” Dad lifted a cup of water to my lips, positioning the straw carefully. “Small sips.”
The tepid water barely touched my thirst. I tried to sit up, but pain shot through my chest, stealing my breath. Every muscle screamed in protest.
“Easy,” he murmured, pressing a button that whirred to life, slowly raising the head of the bed. “The doctors said you need to stay still.”
My phones. My purse. Panic clawed up my throat as I remembered Jedediah Carter’s threats, my idiocy in quitting the team. How long had I been here? What if he’d tried to contact me?
The heart monitor’s steady beeping increased, drawing my father’s concerned gaze.
“Phone,” I croaked.
“Your stuff is right here.” He reached for my purse. “The paramedics grabbed it from the car, but the rest of your things…”
I didn’t care about my change of clothes, or my laptop, or anything else. Not when I’d put our lives in danger by quitting the team and cutting off Jedediah’s source of information.
My hands shook as I reached for my bag, sending fresh waves of pain through my chest. The movement dislodged the thin hospital gown, revealing a maze of wires connecting me to the monitors. Adhesive pads dotted my skin, tracking every beat of my artificial valve.
The valve that had cost my father everything.
The valve that had driven him to gambling.
The valve that had led me straight into Cole’s and Tristan’s arms and to my knees in Coach’s office.
I’d betrayed them. And my father. Christ, how much was my moment of defiance going to cost us?