Chapter 12
Anastasia
There’s a deafening ringing in my ears.
Heat licks at my skin, and the world is a haze around me. For a moment, I just lie here, my mind trying to make sense of what happened. There’s no pain. No time seems to pass. And then—it slams into me, and every nerve might as well be on fire.
I try to push up off the ground, but pain shoots up through my wrist, and I cry out, falling back down to the ground.
Every muscle in my body is screaming—and then I see him.
Lying on his stomach, eyes closed, face bloody. “Sawyer!” I scream his name, but with the ringing in my ears, it might as well be a whisper. Unable to get up, I crawl to him, scraping against the asphalt as I do. Debris surrounds us.
There’s a piece of metal over his legs, so I throw it to the side using my good arm. “Sawyer!” I shake him, urging him to wake up…but he doesn’t move.
Smoke curls around us, carrying off from the pieces of Sawyer’s shop still on fire. The stench of it fills my lungs, and I cough. Frantic, I search for his pulse. Dear God, please don’t let him be dead. Please, God.
My shoulders shake with the force of my tears. But then, I finally feel the steady thumping of his life against my fingertips. “Thank You, Lord.” I collapse down next to him, my body giving out.
“Please wake up,” I cry as I reach forward and brush my fingers against his face.
Sirens wail in the distance.
Overhead, Weston’s face comes into view. He’s yelling at me. Screaming, but I can’t hear anything. He reaches down and pulls me away from Sawyer.
I fight, thrashing against his hold. “No! I don’t want to leave him!”
But then I see Ryker. He reaches down and lifts Sawyer’s limp body, carrying him farther away from the shop—right before a second explosion levels what was left.
Sawyer is the only reason I’m alive.
How he survived is a complete and utter miracle. We were thrown from the building, landing just a few yards from my shop, and then the second explosion sent even more debris raining down on us.
It shattered my back windows.
Weston and Ryker had thankfully not been far when it happened, or who knows whether or not we would have survived. Sawyer’s shop certainly didn’t.
My gaze levels on where he’s lying, unconscious, in a hospital bed. The rhythmic beat of his heart is proof that he’s alive, but I won’t believe it until I see his eyes. Those gorgeous, caramel-colored eyes that hold so much warmth.
Please come back to me.
My wrist is broken and currently wrapped until the swelling goes down enough for them to cast it. I also suffered a concussion and bruising over a good portion of my body. But I’m alive—all because of him.
Sawyer wasn’t so lucky. The force of the explosion at his back broke two ribs and collapsed one of his lungs. He also has a concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and mild burns on the back of his neck.
How it wasn’t worse, no one can explain.
Except, I can. Because God.
He was there with us, shielding Sawyer from death, despite the fact that the explosion was strong enough to completely level Sawyer’s shop and everything inside. Every vehicle—destroyed. All of his equipment—gone. Even his motorcycle was in pieces, according to what Zane told me earlier.
Tears slip down my cheeks, and I lean forward, taking his battered hand in mine and pressing a kiss to the top.
My brother and the others are back at the shop, talking to the police.
Katelyn picked up Axel and took him over to my mom’s house, where he’ll stay until Sawyer is released to go home.
Because I’m not leaving his side until then.
The door opens. I’m expecting my mom back from the cafeteria, so when Jack walks in, I’m completely unprepared. His gaze widens on me, then darkens when he sees that I’m all but clinging to Sawyer’s hand.
Seeing him standing there brings a fresh wave of emotion over me. Because even though things didn’t work out, I care for Jack.
“Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I keep Sawyer’s hand in mine, not wanting to let go even for a second.
“How are you?”
“I’ll survive.”
He nods. “Sawyer?”
“They think he’ll pull through,” I reply. “But he hasn’t regained consciousness since—” I can’t bring myself to say it.
Jack nods, then moves farther into the room. “They’re still looking into the cause of the explosion. To see if it has any link to what’s been happening with you.”
“To the phone calls I’ve been getting?” I ask. “There could be a connection?” How did that not cross my mind before?
Jack swallows hard. “It was Sawyer you called when you thought you were in danger.” I sense he’s going somewhere with it, but I can also see the pain behind his eyes.
“He was right across the parking lot.”
“It’s more than that,” Jack says. “And whoever has been calling you…whoever sent that package, they likely know it, too. It’s possible they wanted him out of the way.”
The very idea that what’s happening right now could have put Sawyer’s life in danger makes my stomach churn. What is happening? Why me?
“That doesn’t make it your fault, Anastasia.” I sniffle and wipe the tears from my eyes.
“It certainly seems like it.”
He moves even closer. “I’m going to find him. I’ll make sure that nothing happens to you.” He clears his throat. “We all will.”
I glance down at Sawyer. “It’s not me I’m worried about.” The words slip out, but the weight of them settles over us. The giant proverbial elephant in the room.
“You know he came to see me?” Jack asks.
Another wave of guilt. We’d been arguing right before the explosion. “He told me.”
“It probably took a lot for him to ask me for help. I won’t tell him this, but I gained some new respect for the guy.”
As much as I appreciate Jack’s attempts to lighten the mood, I can’t bring myself to smile. Not while Sawyer is unconscious and lying in a hospital bed.
“I really am sorry, Jack.” I look over at him now, hoping he can hear the sincerity in my voice. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know.” He takes a deep breath. “I, uh, I need to know for my own sanity.” He runs a hand over the back of his neck. “Had anything happened before that night? Between you two.”
“Of course not,” I reply without hesitation. “I never would have done that to you. Sawyer and I had barely even spoken in six months.”
Jack nods, but the relief is evident in his expression. “I just needed to ask.”
The door behind him opens, and my mom comes in. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees Jack standing there, but a smile slips into place. “Hey there, Jack.”
“Mrs. Knox. It’s good to see you.”
Mrs. Knox. Not Momma Knox. His not referring to her by her nickname shows just how set apart he feels.
“You, too, honey.”
Jack turns to me. “I’ll keep you posted.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
He offers me a single nod and a strained smile before leaving the room and closing the door behind me.
“Well, how are you?” My mom carries over two coffee cups and sets one on the stand beside me. With my hand on Sawyer’s, I don’t have a free one to drink the coffee, so there it will sit until he wakes up.
“Not great.”
“Jack—”
“Was great.” I close my eyes. “He said he thinks the explosion at Sawyer’s might be connected to those phone calls I’ve been getting.”
“Oh, honey, that doesn’t make it your fault.” She reaches out and rubs my back.
“I need him to be okay, Mom.”
“I know you do, honey.”
“We’d been arguing right when it happened. He’d just told me that he and Zane went to see Jack.”
“They were trying to keep you safe.”
“I know that.” My throat burns as I fight to keep the tears at bay. “What if I don’t get the chance to tell him that I understand?”
“You will.” She leans down and hugs me.
“How do you know?”
“Because that boy has been chasing after you for seven years. He’s not going to let anything keep you from him now.”
“Zane and I needed to eliminate the one person we thought it might be, so we took a little trip.”
A wave of anger pushes through me as I realize just what he’s saying. I stop walking and glare at him. “You did not go to Georgia. Tell me you didn’t, Sawyer.”
He smiles at me, that boyish grin that makes it near impossible to be mad at him. “I would. But that would be a lie.” After unlocking his door, he shoves it open and steps aside so I can go in first.
How could he do that? Especially without telling me?
“Sawyer, you have got to be kidding me!” I turn to face him.
He’s gone completely still, every muscle in his body hard and at alert. Everything seems to slow down to a crawl.
“Move!” he yells, grabbing me.
I don’t even have time to react before he’s spinning me and throwing me outside, then covering my body with his.
The explosion hits Sawyer and throws us forward. Pain explodes in every single inch of my body, the blast echoing in my ears before I even fully understand what’s happening.
Pain.
Darkness.
Fire.
Headlights coming up too fast.
Screeching tires.
Twisted metal.
So much blood.
I come awake quickly, the twisted nightmare consisting of the two worst nights of my life still echoing in my mind as I do. It takes me just a moment to realize that I’m sitting beside a hospital bed, my head lying on Sawyer’s battered hand. Which is currently squeezing mine.
Tears flood my eyes, and I stand up, leaning over his bed to stare into his gorgeous eyes.
“Hey, baby,” he says, voice a gravelly whisper.
“Sawyer.” His name leaves my lips on a cry, and I lean forward to hug him as best I can. One of his strong arms comes around me. He buries it in my hair and holds me close. “Are you hurting?” I pull away. “I can call a nurse. I—”
“I’m okay.” His brows furrow, and he studies me. “Are you okay?”
The tears make it nearly impossible to see clearly. “You took that blast for me. If it weren’t for you—” I trail off, unable to say it out loud. I wipe my eyes with my uninjured hand, then reach down and take Sawyer’s again. “You could have died, Sawyer.”
“You seem surprised,” Sawyer says. “Have I ever done anything that made you think I wouldn’t die for you?”
I open my mouth to respond. To tell him that I don’t want him to die for me, but no words come out. How can I put that into words? How can I tell this man that I love him so much it makes my chest ache?
“Come here, baby.” He starts to scoot to the side but hisses when the movement hurts him.
“You need to stay put, Sawyer.”
“I need to hold you,” he counters, continuing to move anyway, until there’s a small space barely large enough for me to lie on my side.
I lower the railing as he lifts the blanket, then cautiously climb onto the bed, turning on my side and laying my head in the crook of his uninjured arm.
I take the blanket and pull it over both of us, moving slowly so I don’t further hurt my broken wrist. As soon as it’s settled over us, I close my eyes and focus on the steady beating of his heart.
He’s alive. He’s here. Sawyer is okay.
“I thought I lost you,” I whisper. “Lying there in that debris, when I saw your body. You keep almost dying on me, Sawyer.” This makes the third time this year that I’ve nearly lost him.
The first was just over eight months ago when a building collapsed on top of him, Weston, Ryker, and my brother in Savannah. Then, the abduction six months ago. And now—I close my eyes tightly, hoping to keep some of the tears at bay.
“What was the damage?” Sawyer asks.
“Two broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, collapsed lung, and some burns on the back of your neck.”
He’s quiet for a moment, processing what I just told him. “Could have been worse.” His tone is far too chipper. Too calm for what happened.
“Of course it could have been worse. You could be dead,” I snap, then instantly regret it. “Sorry. I’m tired.”
“No need to apologize.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of my head. “What about you?”
“A mild concussion and a broken wrist.” I hold up my wrapped hand. “I get my cast tomorrow.”
“What color are you going to pick?”
I sit up slightly to look down at him. “What color am I going to pick?”
He grins. “I bet you go bright neon yellow. A lot of people would probably guess pink, but it’s not bright enough for you.”
I stare down at him. How is he talking about cast colors right now? “Sawyer, this is serious. You almost died. You did hear me, right? Your shop is gone. Completely leveled. Zane said there’s almost nothing left.”
He smiles at me. “I’ll rebuild it.”
Again with the smooth, unbothered tone. “How can you be so casual?”
“Because buildings can be rebuilt. Bodies can heal. But the one thing that matters, Anastasia—the one irreplaceable thing in my life—is you. And since you’re lying right here beside me, safe and sound, my world is right side up.”
The declaration has fresh tears streaming down my cheeks. “You’re irreplaceable to me, too, Sawyer Maddox.”
He smiles again. “Good. Would be awkward if I wasn’t.”
I laugh softly, feeling even more of the stress drain off of me.
As I remain propped up on my elbow, our gazes hold. The desire to be closer hits me with such force, I’m helpless to deny it. So, I lean in, so close that I can feel the heat of his breath on my face. Sawyer’s pupils dilate, and his hand stills where it’s been rubbing small circles on my back.
And then I close the distance. Our lips meet softly, a gentle stoking of the fire that’s been between us since the moment we met.
Need hammers within me, a burning desire for more. More of him. More of this. More days spent with him, sitting in my coffee shop. More nights curled up on the couch, watching TV.
All the little moments we were nearly robbed of yesterday.
But he’s still healing. So even though it feels unfinished, I pull away, breaking the kiss but still staring down into those eyes I know so well.
Sawyer’s gaze has darkened, the same love I feel in my own heart present on his face. Even if neither of us has risked speaking those three little words out loud.
“We’re going to give that another go when I have full use of my arms and two working lungs,” Sawyer says. “Because…wow.”
“I’m going to hold you to that, Maddox.”
He grins. “You won’t be disappointed, Knox.”