29. Jackson
Chapter twenty-nine
Jackson
“G et the fuck out of my way!” I slam my fist on my horn.
“Getting into an accident isn’t going to get you to her any faster.”
I ignore Craig’s comment and weave between two cars, almost hitting a pedestrian. “Where is she?”
“About three miles ahead of you. She’s stopped. They’ve been at the light on Jefferson for some time now.”
“Why?”
“Not sure. Traffic? Construction? Accident?”
“Can you get a feed from the red-light camera?”
Craig sighs. “That’s gonna cost ya. Hacking into them is frowned upon, and I’ve exceeded my limit today—”
“I’ll fucking pay whatever you want.”
“It’s your money. Hold tight…” Each second feels like another brick pressing down on my chest. While I wait, I call Georgia on my car phone. It goes to voicemail. “Shit.”
“What?” My stomach drops. “Fucking what!”
“The scanner is picking up an accident ahead. Two casualties. Male and female. Car accident. Jackson, I’m sorry. I think it’s them. The description—”
No, no, no… “What kind of accident?”
“Doesn’t sound good. One is dead on the scene. The other is being airlifted to Chicago General.”
A cold sweat coats my skin as I struggle to take in a breath. “Who? Does it say who?” It can’t be her. This isn’t them. Bile rises in my throat. “Craig.” I struggle to get the words out. “Check her location.”
There’s a pause before he replies. “I’m sorry, man. It hasn’t moved.”
No, it can’t be her. It can’t fucking be her! Her smile flashes in my mind. Her laughter echoes in my ears. The way she’s lit up my life with her kindness, humor, intelligence, love. “No…” I whisper. “It can’t be her.” My voice breaks. “NO!” I crush my fists against the steering wheel.
“Jackson, you’re about half a mile away. Traffic is at a dead stop. You have a better chance—”
Throwing my car into park, I jump out before he can finish his sentence, my feet hitting the pavement as I sprint forward, my heart thundering in my chest. I run toward the unknown, my mind spiraling to a dark place. Sweat beads across my forehead at the haunting thoughts of her lying lifeless under a white cloth. Her beautiful heart no longer beating for me. Her eyes, whether burning with desire or shining with happiness, strike fear into me: what if I never feel the softness of her skin beneath me again? I clutch my chest as pain threatens to bring me to my knees. Pushing forward, I race past cars and people standing outside their vehicles, all watching the red and blue lights up ahead.
I arrive at the scene as an officer stretches yellow tape across the area, blocking it off. Two paramedics rush through, pushing a gurney toward an ambulance. My legs feel weak, and I almost lose my footing, but I keep going.
“Hey, you can’t be here. This is a—”
“That’s my—I need to see who that is. I need to see…” My voice cracks, and I choke on my question.
“Sir, I’m sorry, but this is a crime scene.”
My eyes lock on the gurney, the covered body, and my stomach roils. Crime scene. Fuck, Georgia, what did they do to you? “I need to know if that’s the male or female?”
“Sir, I can’t—”
Without thinking, I shove him aside, my panic overriding everything else, and run like hell toward the ambulance.
“Sir!”
Two paramedics take notice as I stop in front of the gurney. “I’m sorry. I need to know who’s under that sheet.”
“Sir, we can’t—”
“I need to know!” I yell in panic. I can’t breathe. “I need to know if it’s my girlfriend.” The question burns like acid up my throat. “Please. I need to know.” They exchange a glance, weighing their options. The woman shifts her attention back to me, her expression filled with sympathy. “Is it a female?”
She stares at me for a beat and shakes her head. “The deceased was a male.” I grab my chest, release a garbled breath, and lean forward, fighting for air.
It’s not her.
It’s not her.
I stand straight. “The female—where did they take her?”
“Chicago General. I would hurry.”
I nod and twist, running like hell back to my car.
“Dad!” Noah’s voice pulls my attention. “Right here!” He waves me toward him. “Get in!” I jump in Noah’s car, and he takes off down a side street.
“How’d you—?”
“Craig called me.” He’s pale, with tears staining his face and bruising from when I slammed him to the ground already starting to form. God, I can’t imagine what I look like. “Dad, is she going to be okay?” He glances at me, wanting me to give him an answer I can’t.
“I don’t know.”
The drive to the hospital is a blur. We park in the emergency circle and leap out, fighting the crowd to get inside. I hit the check-in desk first. “Georgia Price was brought in. Car accident.”
The woman types in her name. “Are you family?”
I stall, about to say no, when Noah steps in. “Yes. Dad and brother.” The woman nods and types in more info. “She’s currently in surgery. Take a seat. A doctor will be out to speak with you when they have an update.”
I don’t move. “I can’t take a fucking seat. I need to know if she’s okay!”
“Sir, I don’t have any further information and won’t until she makes it out of surgery—”
“What do you mean? Is she not gonna make it? You know more and aren’t telling us!”
“Dad.” Noah grabs my arm, pulling me away, and leads me to a chair, pushing me to sit. I do so, numb. How can I sit here not knowing what’s happening? What is she going through? Why is she in surgery? Dark thoughts race through my mind, and I grab at my hair.
“You need to take a breath.”
“I can’t.” I can’t fucking breathe.
“You’re not going to be any good to her if you’re a mess.” I lift my head and look at my son. He should hate me, but here he is, sitting next to me, consoling me about his ex, who I’m fucking in love with and have no idea if she’s going to live.
“Fuck…” I drop my head. What have I done?
“I love her too, you know.” I look back at him, the pain in his eyes another stab at my chest.
“I know. She’s hard not to love.”
I shouldn’t have said that. Everything is still so raw. His eyes flash with anger and hatred, and he stands abruptly. “Need a drink… or something…” He walks off, leaving me with my thoughts. I watch in a daze as people come and go. A woman breaks down, learning her sister didn’t make it out of surgery. A husband lost his wife during childbirth. I’m not sure how much time has passed—maybe hours. The sound of a girl yelling snaps me out of it, and I glance toward the check-in desk just as a petite girl slams her fist against the counter.
“Tell me, or I’ll rip your ponytail out of your scalp!”
“I told you I—”
“Check again! Georgia Price! She was brought in hours ago!” Tears stain her flushed cheeks. I notice the similarities, and it helps me recognize who she is.
“Lettie?” I call her name, and her head whips in my direction.
“Do I know you?”
“Yes—no. I’m Jack—Mr. Blake. I’m Noah’s dad.”
She takes me in, her suspicion evident. “What happened to you? Were you in the car accident with her?”
“No. I got into a… nothing. She’s still in surgery. They haven’t given us any updates yet.”
She blinks, and tears slip down her young face. “What happened? I don’t understand. No one will tell me anything.” She falls into my arms and breaks down. “The hospital called my mom—she’d been in a car accident. Next thing I know, they’re forcing me on a plane, which I’ve never even flown before! And then your Uber people were total jerks, and—and my sister, oh my God—”
“Dad?”
Lettie pulls away as Noah walks up, his eyes on Georgia’s sister. He stalls when he recognizes her. “You!” She stabs her finger into his chest. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Liar!” Lettie shouts, shoving her palms into his chest and pushing him. “What did you do!”
“Lettie, calm down.”
“No, you calm down! My sister is fighting for her life! You were supposed to take care of her! How’d this happen? Were you messed up and driving? You couldn’t care enough to stay sober to keep my sister safe?” She shoves him again.
“I didn’t fuckin’ do this! I wasn’t even with her.”
She stops as his words register. “Who was she with?”
“Price?”
We all whip our heads toward the doctor standing in the open doorway. “Yes!” Lettie hurries over with me close on her heels. “I’m her sister.”
He nods, taking us all in. “She’s in critical condition. We managed to repair her collapsed lung, but the impact also ruptured her spleen. She’s suffered a severe concussion—its full extent remains uncertain until the swelling subsides. Additionally, she has a broken leg; she has three screws in her ankle, but further work on her leg may be required. We’re still assessing the damage to her spinal cord. The next forty-eight hours are crucial.”
“Can I see her?” Lettie asks with a sob.
“We had to put her into a medically induced coma, but you can sit with her.”
I step forward, ready to follow, when Lettie spins around, sticking her hand out. “No. You don’t get to be with her.” She scowls at us both before setting her cold gaze on Noah. “She should never have gone home with you. She was too good for you. And you ruined her.” She leaves without a word, following the doctor’s lead down the corridor.
I stand rooted in place, my mind screaming at me to follow, to hell with what Lettie said, but the doors swing shut, and I realize I missed my opportunity.
“Fuck this,” Noah spits out, taking his fist to the vending machine.
“Noah!” I snap.
“No—fuck this,” he fires back. “And fuck you! This is all your fault. If she dies, this is on you.” Then he storms off, leaving me with the weight of his words.
“Excuse me, sir?” I barely register the woman in scrubs standing in front of me. “Do you need to be checked out?”
“Huh?” I blink, staring down at her.
“You have a pretty bad cut above your eyebrow.”
“It’s fine.”
“Why don’t you at least let me clean it up?”
“I said it’s fine,” I snap. Fuck. “I’m sorry. I—” My pocket buzzes, and I pull out my phone, seeing Craig’s name across my screen. “I’m sorry. Excuse me. What do you know?” I ask, walking away.
“The deceased was Vince Hallstead. According to witnesses, a girl jumped out of the car and ran into traffic. The kid chased after her and restrained her. He tried to drag her back to the car, and when she managed to get free, the kid lost his footing, stumbled, and was hit by a car. Killed him on impact.”
“And Georgia?”
“Said she was completely disoriented. A pedestrian tried to reach her but couldn’t get to her before she stumbled into the lane. The car tried to stop, but it was too late. Is she?”
“She made it through surgery. They have her in a medically induced coma.”
“It’s good the car attempted to stop; it may have been what saved her life.”
Never getting involved with her would have saved her life. “Any word on Veronica?”
“She’s at the station making wild accusations. Just a heads up, she’s not keeping quiet about what she knows regarding your affair. Claims her son found out and was going to tell Noah, which sent Georgia over the edge. She snapped and became completely unhinged. Kidnapped her and her son at gunpoint.”
I grab the back of my neck, toxic rage seeping through my pores. “That fucking bitch. They’re not believing that bullshit, are they?”
“No. Her story’s all over the place. She’s talking in circles about why the two were in the street. Her statement doesn’t match any of the eyewitness accounts. She claims her son was running from Georgia, not the other way around. They’re humoring her for now—she did just lose her son—but without a statement from Georgia, they can’t hold her.”
“I’m going to fucking destroy her.”
“One more thing. Vince made a call shortly before the accident, claiming to have the codes needed to upgrade their system.”
“That’s impossible. The ledger is in a locked safe in my bedroom. Only I have the code.” Doubt coils in my chest as I pull my phone away from my ear and open the surveillance app. I scroll through the timelines, and my breath catches as Vince enters my bedroom and goes straight to the safe. “That piece of—”
“Mr. Blake?”
I whip around at the sound of Lettie’s voice. “I’ll call you back.” I stare at her, trying to decipher her expression. The panic etched across her face causes my stomach to pinch. Grief flickers in her eyes, hitting me like a Mac truck. “Is she…?” My voice cracks.
“She’s fighting. But it isn’t good. She looks so fragile. God, I don’t know what to do. She’s my big sister.” She breaks down, and I pull her into my arms, holding her as she cries.
“She’s a fighter,” I whisper, trying to believe it myself. “She’s going to make it out of this.”
She pulls back, her tear-stricken face full of fear. “And what if she doesn’t? I can’t lose her.”
My heart cracks. “Neither can I.”
She wipes at her tears, her gaze locking on mine. Her brows furrow as confusion sparks across her face. I’ve said too much. Her eyes dart around me. “Where’s Noah?”
“I’m not sure. He’s pretty upset.”
“Okay. Well… if you want to see her. Sounds like you became close during her stay.” How do I admit I’ve fallen in love with her sister—that she’s become so important to me, I can’t imagine my life without her. “Yeah, thanks.” I barely choke out the words. She nods, and I follow her down the hallway, my heart thrashing with each step. When she stops at an open door, I forget to breathe altogether. Georgia lays there, motionless, her pale face painted in scrapes and bruises. A tube protrudes from her mouth, helping her breathe. Countless wires are connected to her as her lifeline.
My hands tremble, unable to fully grasp the sight before me. This should have never happened. I should have kept her safe. Noah’s right. This is my fault.
My feet slowly move, and I approach her bedside, staring at her battered face and the marks of violence. My breath hitches at the fingermarks along her neck. If he weren’t already dead, I would kill Vince myself.
“I need to call my mom. She, uh… she’s too sick to travel. I need to update her.” She takes one last look at her sister and steps out, leaving me alone with her. I sit in the chair and grab her hand. It’s cold, too still.
“Georgia,” my voice falters. I bring her hand to my lips. “Fuck—I’m so sorry.” Guilt, fear, and helplessness crash over me as I lean in, cupping her hand. “Please, Peach. You gotta fight. I need you to fight.” My eyes burn with unshed tears. I kiss her hand. “I can’t lose you.”
The beeping of the machines fills the room, but not loud enough to drown out the thoughts racing through my mind. I’d give anything to hear her laugh again, to see the fire in her eyes—even if it meant arguing with her just one more time.
“You have to fight, Peach. I’m going to make things right. I promise you.” The knot in my throat stops me from saying any more—vows I can’t make if she doesn’t fight and come back to me.
Her chest rises and falls gently, each breath supported by the steady hum of the machines. A startled gasp has my gaze darting to the doorway. Noah is motionless, his eyes wide. “Oh my God.” I go to him, pulling him into my embrace. His chest rumbles as the tears come. “She doesn’t deserve this.”
“I know, son.”
“Is she gonna die?”
“No. We can’t think like that.” I struggle to be strong for him, the thought of that being the end result suffocating. I feel my composure slipping. “She’ll fight.”
The door opens, and Lettie walks in, wiping at her face. “Any changes? Has a doctor been in?”
“No,” I answer. “Just us. Were you able to get in touch with your mom?”
“Yeah.”
Noah turns, his shoulders squared, his eyes hardening. “She too busy to come be with her daughter while she’s fighting for her life?”
Lettie flinches like Noah slapped her. Her lips part in disbelief, only to quickly twist into a mask of seething rage. “Excuse me? You know nothing about my mother.”
“I know she doesn’t give a shit about her daughter. If she did, she’d be here—”
She takes a menacing step closer. “My mother isn’t here because she’s really sick.”
“Great excuse. Nursing another beating—”
“She has fucking cancer, you asshole!” She launches herself at him, shoving her fists into his chest. Noah’s face twists in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief. The color drains from his face as he stumbles back.
“I—I didn’t know.”
“Lettie, calm down—”
“No! Stop telling me to calm down! My mom’s going to die because we can’t afford treatment, and my sister is halfway there! I am not going to CALM DOWN!” A guttural sob rattles her chest. I watch her body shudder, her knees bending as she nearly collapses, and I catch her before she falls to the ground. “She can’t die. They can’t leave me. I’ll have no one.”
“Georgia never said—”
“Because she won’t take her calls. Mom just wants to make things right with her before she dies, and now she won’t be able to.” Her pain is crushing. I feel it deep in my chest.
“Lettie, is your mom in a hospital? Is she unable to fly?”
She pulls her face out of my chest and sniffles. “She’s too sick. Her immune system is barely existent. If she is exposed to germs—anything on a flight or airport—it could cost her her life.”
“If we got around that, can she fly?”
She hesitates, confused. “Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know. Why?”
“Call your mother. Have her pack what she needs. I’ll charter a private plane and have a nurse accompany her to ensure she receives any necessary care.
“You—you can do that?”
“It’s the least I can do.”
She jumps into my arms. “Thank you.”
The cadence of the machines shifts into a string of rapid, harsh, and alarming beeps, immediately capturing our attention. The monitor flashes red, and the numbers on the screen start to plummet drastically.
“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” Lettie cries.
“I—I don’t know.”
A nurse bursts into the room, her expression grim with urgency. “We need a doctor in here—stat! Her vitals are dropping.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I spit, panic seizing me.
A doctor and two more nurses flood the room, forcing us to back away. “She’s going into cardiac arrest.”
“God, no…” Noah begs, his voice unrecognizable. Tears race down his face, the fear in his eyes raw.
“Is she dying?” Lettie cries out.
“I’m going to need you all to step outside for a moment.”
“I’m not fucking leaving,” I demand.
“You’re not helping her by being in the way. We need to move quickly.”
The choice is taken away from us, and we’re ushered out of the room., and the door slams in our face as the doctor's voice booms from inside.
"She's crashing!"