My Everything (23 page)

Roger was stronger than he looked, and he was pumped up on adrenaline. Ben slammed him against the brick wall, knocking the gun from his hand. Several police officers joined the struggle to subdue Roger.

Roger was still spitting obscenities as he was cuffed and hauled to his feet. Suddenly he shut up and grinned like a maniac. He winked his one eye at Ben.

“Gotcha,” he said.

Ben heard a shriek. He spun on his heels. It was his sister, Angel. She knelt over a body on the pavement. Blood spread in a growing stain across a white tank top.

Ben recognized the tangled mass of gold-brown hair, the long runner’s legs.

Grace.

His heart nearly stopped beating. His feet froze to the pavement.

Grace.

Ben jerked himself into action and flew to her side.

Angel’s back feels
wet.

The thought appeared and quickly disappeared in Grace’s mind. She wondered why she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She heard Angel screaming over and over again, and she tried to reach out to her, tried to pull her closer but her arms wouldn’t move.

Wow. I must have hit the pavement harder than I thought.

From a great distance, she heard Ben’s voice and she tried to open eyes she didn’t even remember closing.

An instant later Grace stood off to the side, watching. Somebody lay on the ground. Ben knelt beside the person.

Oh god, please don’t let it be Angel.

Ben turned in her direction and yelled for help. He looked right past her. Grace glanced around to see who he was yelling at. Just as she did, two paramedics ran right through her.

Whoa! This is getting weirder by the minute.

Ben rolled the person over onto her back. She looked familiar, kind of.

Oh.

Grace moved closer to get a better look.

Your body sure looks different when you aren’t in it.

Blood stained her white tee shirt.

That’s a lot of blood.

She didn’t appear to be breathing. Ben bent over and began mouth-to-mouth. Angel knelt beside him. Tom tried to drag her away from the scene, but she refused to budge.

“I wish Angel didn’t have to watch me die,” Grace said.

“She won’t,” said Josh.

Grace flew around, turning her back on the scene. “Josh, oh my god, Josh!” Grace looked him up and down. “You’re dead.”

“So are you, my love, at least for the moment.”

Grace turned and gazed at her body. The paramedics worked hard to revive her. She looked like a rag doll, all floppy and lifeless.

She turned her attention back to Josh. He glowed with vitality. He was full of life, so different from the day he’d died.

He reached for her hand.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, eyes glued to his handsome face. “You look beautiful.”

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. But I’ve been right with you all along. I’ve been right beside you.”

“You have?” Grace asked. “Jeez, I hope not! I haven’t been particularly perfect.”

“Perfect doesn’t matter,” replied Josh, grinning at her. “Good does. Truth does.” He pointed at Ben. “Do you love him?”

“Yes.” She looked directly into Josh’s blue eyes. “I love you, but I love him, too, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore. Do we go? Do I go with you now?”

Josh ran a finger along the side of her face. She could feel his touch, but like his hand in hers, it felt different.

“I think,” he said, with just the barest hint of regret in his voice, “I think it’s not your time yet. Let’s wait and see.”

“Oh Ben, it’s
my fault,” Angel cried. “Grace tried to talk me out of it. She tried to keep me at the hotel. She can’t die. I made her bring me up here. I forced her to. She just can’t die.”

Ben shut out Angel’s voice. He gave Grace mouth-to-mouth while a paramedic performed chest compressions. With each compression, the red stain grew larger. Another paramedic applied pressure around the wound. At last two more paramedics arrived on the scene. They pushed Ben aside.

Ben took Grace’s hand in his. “C’mon, Grace. C’mon. Breathe. Breathe. C’mon, honey. Breathe.” Ben wanted to shake her back to life. Make her come back to him.

“Breathe, goddamn you, breathe,” he demanded. “Now, Grace. Get your ass back here. Get your little ass back here. Jesus.”

Ben sat back on his heels and looked at the sky. It was blue. Soft white fluffy clouds drifted by.

When somebody dies, the sky should be gray. Miserably wet, achingly cold, and filled with despair because that’s how he felt inside watching the woman he loved die. Another woman he loved was leaving him behind, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Ben closed his eyes. He had no control. Grace’s fate was out of his hands.

“Your choice,” said
Josh. “Do you want to go back to him? They’re telling me you can go back.”

“It will hurt,” Grace replied, staring at her body. “I’m going to feel a lot of pain.”

“You’ve never cared about pain, unless it’s a migraine.”

Grace looked at him. He knew her so well. “I don’t. But I want to know you’ll be okay. That whatever decision I make is okay with you.”

Josh smiled back. “It’s okay with me, sweetheart. Go.” He dropped her hand.

Grace looked at him in gratitude. She moved toward her body then she turned back. “You’re sure?”

“Hurry up,” Josh said, pointing to where her body lay on the pavement. Then he added, “Hey, name one of them for me.”

“What?” Grace didn’t hear his answer. Her ears were filled with a roar as she was instantly pulled into herself. Hoovered was more like it. She felt like she’d been vacuumed in from behind.

Grace sucked in air with a loud rasp, and she kept sucking as hard and as fast as she could. God, she couldn’t get enough air. She was drowning. Then she felt Ben’s presence next to her, his mouth against her ear. She felt his warm breath on her neck.

Grace chose life.

Ben heard what
sounded like a gasp. He ignored it. It must be a leak from the oxygen tank. Then he heard another gasp, this one ragged, definitely not from an oxygen tank. His eyes flew open. Grace was breathing. Her respirations were shallow, rapid and irregular, but she was breathing on her own.

“Thank God, Grace.” He squeezed her hand. Grace gave his hand a weak squeeze in reply. In that moment he knew she was his, and she wouldn’t leave him.

“Tom,” Ben called, his eyes never leaving Grace. “Let’s get her air-evacced to the closest Level I trauma center. Make it happen!”

“On it,” said Tom. He let go of Angel to make the arrangements.

Angel knelt beside Ben. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I made her. I threatened to run away if she wouldn’t bring me here to look for you. I’m the one who jumped out of her car. She had to chase me. She’s here because of me. If she dies, it will be my fault.” Angel’s hands shook as she covered her face.

Ben put his free arm around her. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You didn’t do this on purpose. Grace knew what she was doing when she ran after you. Don’t blame yourself.”

“I was just so scared I wouldn’t see you again, that he’d kill you.” Angel’s voice broke. “I couldn’t take the chance you’d disappear for real this time. Now it might be Grace who dies.”

“We have to hope for the best, Angel,” Ben said. “That’s all we can do. Grace is a fighter. I don’t think it’s her time.”

“Promise me,” begged Angel. “Promise me she’ll live.”

“I can’t make that promise. I wish to God I could, but I can’t. We can’t control everything. Some things are out of our hands.”

Grace heard someone
speaking in hushed tones. She wondered why. Then she wondered why on earth she would think of the phrase
hushed tones.

What a laugh. Those weren’t words people ever used in real life, only in books. Not necessarily very good books. She wanted to giggle, but for some reason, her voice wouldn’t work. She couldn’t for the life of her figure it out.

I must be dreaming, yes, that’s it, I’m dreaming.

But a question nagged at her. If this was a dream, why on earth was it her father’s voice she heard speaking in those hushed tones? Then she heard a low rumble in response to whatever it was her father said. She knew that voice. She’d know it anywhere.

That was Ben McCall’s voice.

What the hell was he doing in her dream? She hadn’t seen him in ten years. She tried her best to clear her throat, hoping to attract his attention.

No luck. She wouldn’t mind seeing Ben, even if it was only in a dream.

Maybe if she moved her hand he’d notice her. It was just a hand, one little dream hand, but it felt to Grace like her arm was mired in quicksand.

Goddamn. It was her hand and her dream, and she couldn’t even open her dream eyes to get a look at Ben.

Grace concentrated hard.
Move the hand. Move the hand
. She managed to wiggle a finger.
Yes!
She did it again. The voices fell silent. Someone wrapped a big, warm paw around her entire dream hand. She felt something soft, like lips, against her dream palm.

“Grace,” Ben’s voice said, sounding odd to her ears. “Grace. Welcome back, sweetheart. Welcome home.”