Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
JOSH
My phone buzzed in my back pocket.
She was at the clinic. I tried texting back.
Josh: You ok?
Nothing. Not a single word back. Not even the little typing bubble to show she’d seen the message. My stomach twisted hard. I dialed the front desk.
One ring, two, three. Then straight to the on-call messaging service.
I tried texting Marty, but all I got was her voicemail.
Marty would never ignore a call from my number if she was still at the clinic. If Erika had been injured, Marty would’ve found a way to reach me. The only reason neither woman would answer was if something had happened at the clinic—an attack, a fire, something unthinkable.
The murmuring crowd of parents around me blurred into white noise. We still had two innings left.
“Drew!” My voice cracked as I sprinted from third base toward the dugout.
“I have to go. Something’s wrong at the clinic.
Get Vinny home after the game…or maybe don’t take him to his house.
I’m not sure if Erika will be there. Just, keep him after the game, please.
And the dog. Get Tracker.” I nodded where he sat in the corner of the dugout. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
I didn’t wait for a response. My pulse thundered in my ears as I yanked my backpack off the bench and tore across the gravel toward the parking lot. My hands shook so hard I nearly dropped my phone as I punched in Dante’s number.
He picked up on the first ring.
“It’s a 911 at the clinic,” I gasped. “Something’s really wrong. Erika sent me an emergency message and now I can’t reach anyone. Can you get there? How far out are you?”
“Ten minutes, less if I push it,” Dante said. “I’m on my way.”
I called Marty on her cell again. Still no answer. I called the front desk again, but it rolled into the after-hours message. I tried Erika again.
All I could remember was Erika saying she felt insecure working alone. What if someone pulled a gun and wanted the controlled drugs? Her words clawed at my chest like a warning I never listened to.
The thought of losing her—really losing her—was something I’d never outlive. All the bullshit about us being broken… God, none of it mattered. It was all noise. All lies.
The road blurred beneath me as the miles flew by, but my mind was gone, empty except for one truth pounding in rhythm with my heartbeat:
I have to get to her.
I have to get to her.
I have to get to her.
Nothing else mattered.
Although I wanted to tear into the clinic, guns blazing—because I sure as hell had the sidearm from my glovebox clipped to my belt—I went in slow. The ding of the front door would give away my entry. Whoever might be in there would know I’d come inside.
Marty was on the floor at the front, blood on her forehead. I could see her chest lift as she breathed. Not dead. I unholstered my gun and pushed into the back.
Horror punched the air from my lungs as I watched a guy fist a handful of Erika’s hair and slam her skull against the treatment table. She let out a strangled cry that tore right through me.
“Stop!” I shouted, stumbling forward. “What the hell are you doing?”
Her attacker snapped his head toward me, eyes wild, pupils blown wide with madness. A twisted grin peeled across his face, stretching too far, too wrong, as he lifted a gun like it was nothing more than a toy.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he sing-songed, wagging the barrel at me. “Throw the gun on the floor. Stay right there, Dr. Hurst.”
My heart hammered so violently I could taste metal. Every instinct screamed to run, to fight, to do something. But the gun tracked me. I tossed my weapon on the floor, away from both of us.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The man dragged Erika’s limp body to sit upright and used her hair to position her so I could see her face. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t look like she was even conscious. “I’m the one she belongs to. Say good-bye, Dr. Hurst. If Erika won’t be mine, she can’t be yours either.”
This must be her psycho ex from Philly, Jay. “Who says she’s mine? We’re business partners.” I needed to stall until Dante could get here. “We just work together.”
The gun was pointed at me with intent. Erika didn’t seem coherent enough to process what was going on around her. Her eyelids hadn’t even twitched. Thank God, she wouldn’t see this, but I hoped her head injury wasn’t too serious.
“You think I’m stupid, Josh Hurst?” His eyes were wild and unfocused, sliding right past me like he couldn’t anchor to reality. The madman aimed his gun.
I was going to die.
The world detonated into white noise. I squeezed my eyes shut on pure instinct, flinching, bracing for pain that should’ve come like fire through my body. My ears screamed with the ringing of the shot, drowning out everything else.
Was I dead?
Time seemed to hold its breath with me. I waited for darkness to swallow me whole… But nothing happened. No agony. Just the thunder of my heart, pounding hard enough to hurt.
I forced my eyes open.
The shooter lay sprawled face-first on the floor, limbs twisted awkwardly, blood pooling beneath his cheek. And behind him stood Dante—shoulders rigid, jaw clenched—his arms locked tight as he held the gun steady, still aimed at the downed man’s head as if the threat might rise again.
Dante’s gaze found mine, burning, breaths uneven. He’d saved my life.
And for a second, the world tilted, everything too sharp, too bright, too real.
“Call an ambulance!” My voice sounded foreign to me. I dropped to my knees beside Erika. The floor was cold beneath me, and her body felt terrifyingly limp when I touched her.
She was breathing. Barely. Shallow, uneven breaths that whispered instead of filled. Her eyes stayed closed, lashes unmoving, like she was already slipping somewhere I couldn’t follow. I shook her gently, my hands trembling. “Come on. Please wake up. Tell me you’re okay.”
No response. Not even the slightest flicker.
I dragged her into my arms, holding her tight against my chest as if I could anchor her there by will alone. I rocked her without realizing I was doing it, a desperate, helpless motion, fighting against a rising scream clawing up my throat.
“Stay with me,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
My vision blurred, and I lifted my head, searching blindly for the only person who could still help. My eyes locked on Dante, pleading, wild.
“Help,” I choked out. “Please.”
He kneeled beside me and put a hand on my arm. “I already called for the ambulance. I need to check on Marty.”
An eternity later, Dante said softly, “They’re here, Josh. The medics are here to get Erika and Marty to the hospital. Can you relax and let her go?”
“I’m going with her.”
* * *
An hour after they admitted her to the hospital, Drew brought Vinny to the waiting area. The kid looked pale, terrified. I understood. I too felt hollowed out and emotionally spent.
Somehow, I had to compartmentalize things enough to explain what was going on.
It came easier if I made the report like I was rounding off a case to another veterinarian.
If I actually thought about what happened, I’d fall apart again.
I told both Drew and Vinny, “They took her to surgery. One of her ribs broke and punctured something, causing a lot of internal bleeding. They’re not sure about her head injury.
They’re going to do an MRI to see if she has any bleeding.
After that, they’ll know whether they need to do anything to treat it. ”
Vinny sat stiffly next to me. “Is she going to be okay?”
“We don’t know yet.” I gave him a one-armed hug, but he remained unyielding in my embrace.
My mom took my hand in hers from the chair next to me. I was grateful for the support. She’d been here within a half hour of me texting her that Erika had been admitted. She said, “Marty is fine. Just a bump on the head, thank the Lord.”
Drew looked awkward, standing above us. “I dropped Tracker with your dad out at the farm before we came here. I want to wait, man, I really do, but I’ve got to get out to my farm and help out with evening chores.
” He glanced down at his cell phone when it made a chirp.
“Dante says he’s cleaning up things at the clinic. ”
“Thanks, Drew.” I was grateful for his help today.
Drew twisted his fingers together. “You know she and I weren’t ever serious. I figured if I tried anything with her, you’d eventually pull your head out of your ass and win her back. I liked her, yeah, but she’s not meant for me. She loves you. I don’t think she ever quit.”
“I know.” It slipped out quietly. His truth hit hard, because I never quit loving her either.
My mom said, “I’ll send you updates. Thank you for staying at the field to finish Vinny’s game.” She waved him away. “Go.”
Time moved slowly in the waiting room. The fake leather chairs pressed hard into my back as we stared blankly at a home improvement show on a small TV in the corner, pretending to watch because it was easier than facing the quiet fear between us.
Timothy barreled in, surprising me. I didn’t know he cared this much about Erika. He stood in front of Mom, “Why won’t you answer your phone?”
“Honey, I texted you that I’d be at the hospital until we know more about Erika. Why don’t you take a seat with us? We could use an extra soul praying.”
He huffed. “Dad sent me. He was wondering about dinner.”
“Your father is a grown man who can fend for himself for one night. If this is about you, then order delivery or take something out of the freezer. Or better still, sit down.” She pointed imperiously at the empty chair next to me. Vinny had moved to where the view of the TV was better.
Timothy sat, arms folded. We stayed that way, unspeaking for endless minutes.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the words out through my teeth. “You’re the reason we broke up. Before this.”
“Me?” Timothy barked out a laugh and jabbed a finger at his own chest, eyes wide in mock innocence. “I didn’t even know you and Erika were actually together for real again.”