Truly, Madly, Deadly (20 page)

A warmth pulsed through Sawyer, and she wanted to smile, wanted Cooper’s words—the way he said them, with his eyes staring into hers—to be the last thing she ever heard. Chloe’s hand was shaking hard again, the action causing little pricks against Sawyer’s throat.

“No,” Chloe said, teeth gritted.

Sawyer clamped her eyes shut, waiting for the searing pain of knife through flesh.

“No,” Chloe said again. This time it was softer, and Sawyer felt the knife back away from her throat, heard something slap into the mud. “I do love you, Sawyer.”

Chloe’s words were strained and muffled, and when Sawyer opened her eyes, Chloe’s hands were in front of her face, her shoulders shaking.

“We’re going to get you help, Chloe, I promise,” Sawyer said. “We’re going to get you help.”

“I just wanted to make you happy,” Chloe sobbed. “I just wanted you to care about me.”

Sawyer swallowed hard, looking away from Chloe, glancing quickly at Cooper. “It’s going to be okay.”

She wasn’t sure who she was talking to.

A paramedic slid an itchy wool blanket over Sawyer’s shoulders and clamped a blood pressure monitor on her arm. Cooper sat next to her on the tailgate of the ambulance while another paramedic dabbed Mercurochrome-soaked gauze against the gash on his head.

“Is my stepmother going to be okay? Is the baby going to be okay?”

The paramedic nodded. “She’s on her way to the hospital right now, but her vitals looked good and the baby’s heartbeat was steady.”

Tears sprang to Sawyer’s eyes, and this time she welcomed them, welcomed the whoosh of air she sucked in. She looked at Cooper, who smiled at her, wincing with the next dab of the gauze.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “What happened?”

Cooper shook his head. “It had nothing to do with you.”

Sawyer cocked an eyebrow and Cooper blushed.

“Okay, I guess it kind of did. I left school to see if you were all right. Chloe kind of T-boned my car once I got into the tract. I was kind of dazed. Then she hit me with something and I was more dazed. Or unconscious.”

Sawyer had never felt more glad to hear a survivor story.

“Oh, Sawyer!”

“Dad!” Sawyer leapt up from the tailgate of the ambulance and threw her arms around her father. Stephen Haas and Detective Biggs were with him but hung back.

“I was so worried about you.”

Sawyer broke the embrace, gesturing toward the ambulance, the paramedic who was tending to her. “I’m fine, really. You should go—the other ambulance took Tara. You should go be with her.”

Andrew touched Sawyer’s cheek. “I need to be here with you.”

Sawyer shook her head. “No, no.” She swallowed. “You should be there for my new baby sister.” She paused, licking her lips. “And my stepmom.”

Andrew nodded, his eyes glossy.

Detective Biggs and Stephen stepped toward Sawyer next. Biggs clapped her on the back in a motion that Sawyer assumed was meant to be gentle and fatherly, but was awkward and made her smile.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Sawyer.”

Sawyer looked behind her at the bandage wrapped around her calf. “Mostly okay.” She paused and sucked in a shaky breath. “What’s going to happen to Chloe?”

“Chloe’s awfully sick,” Biggs said.

“Is she going to go to jail?”

Both of the officers were silent for a beat that was smothering.

“We’re going to get her some help.”

Sawyer glanced over Stephen’s shoulder to his squad car, where Chloe sat in the backseat, head bent. Her blond hair, filthy with rainwater and mud, fell in a sheet over her cheek. Chloe looked up as if she knew Sawyer was staring at her, and they locked eyes. Chloe’s were blank, wide, and blue.

“I hope so,” Sawyer whispered.

The squad cars and ambulance started to peel away. Detective Biggs got into his car last, the unmarked sedan that had been parked in Sawyer’s driveway what seemed like months ago. “Can I drive you to the hospital, Sawyer?”

“No, thanks, Detective. I’m going to head over there a little later.”

Biggs pulled away, and Cooper, fully bandaged, came up on her shoulder. Sawyer felt the edges of her lips push up.

“I’m really glad you’re okay,” he said shyly.

“I may not have been if you didn’t show up.”

Cooper looked away, an arm’s length from Sawyer. He touched his bandage. “Does this make me look stupid?” he said with a slight smile.

Sawyer nodded, grinning. “Stupid.” She fell into him, feeling him hesitate for a beat before wrapping his arms tightly around her. “And sexy.”

Cooper squeezed Sawyer tighter, his heartbeat thumping against hers. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his fresh scent. He still smelled like detergent and soap, and despite the events of the evening, Sawyer was instantly at ease. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered to him.

“How about I drive you to the hospital to see your stepmother?”

Sawyer nodded. “I’d like that, thanks.”

She fell into step beside him. Their fingers brushed and then laced, and then they were holding hands.

“Should we stop and get her some flowers or a card?” Cooper asked.

“No.” Sawyer shook her head, emphatic. “Definitely not.”

Special thanks to Leah Hultenschmidt and the entire Sourcebooks Fire staff, including their authors, who have all been so welcoming and so great to me. Here’s hoping we can be together again on the Awesome Bus sometime soon. To my agent Vickie Motter—thanks for putting up with me. A very special thanks and overall debt of gratitude to the incredible women in my life—Grandma Schwartz for always telling it like it is, Auntie Carolyn for being my first inspiration, Amberly Finarelli for giving me a chance, Joan Svoboda for being Joan Svoboda, and Marina Chappie and Britt Parmeter for understanding my fear of the phone, my penchant for smelly markers, and my love for Disney Channel Original Programming, and loving me anyway.

Hannah Jayne lives in the San Francisco Bay area, where she rents three square inches of bed space from two enormous cats. In addition to her young adult thrillers, Jayne is also the author of the Underworld Detection Agency Chronicles. You can reach her at
www.hannah-jayne.com
or on Twitter @hannah_jayne1.

Coming in January 2014 from Hannah Jayne…

SEE JANE RUN

For sixteen-year-old Riley, one question will change everything:
Who is Jane O’Callahan?

Riley Spencer never thought twice about keeping secrets from her parents—not big ones, at least. They didn’t need to know that her math tutor was also her boyfriend, or that the cocktail dress she “borrowed” from her mom would be back before she missed it. But when she finds a birth certificate with the name Jane O’Callahan wedged inside her baby book, Riley must face the reality that her parents might be lying to
her
.