Page 144 of Crash

In saving Tessa, I might have damned myself. But I’d do it again. A thousand times over.

Some prices were worth paying.

73

BLAKE

As I sat in the chair next to Tessa’s ICU bed, I shoved my face in my hands.

Ryker, once again, squeezed my shoulder. Something he’d been doing on the hour since Tessa arrived at the hospital.

The ICU room had become my new prison cell, my penance for failing her.

Earlier, the police had questioned me—with my lawyer present, of course—and for now, they’d left. If they suspected I’d done something nefarious, they’d done a good job of hiding it. They had searched Eli’s apartment and found a bathroom jar filled with toxins. Based on entries they had found and hand-scribbled notes, it seemed Tessa and I were the first targets on his hit list. The guy had absolutely flipped a switch, been rejected too many times in his life, I guess. Next on that list was his boss. Followed by two of his coworkers and then God knows who else.

But those details washed over me like white noise. There was only Tessa, lying still as death in the hospital bed.

“Why don’t I get you some food?” Ryker’s voice broke through the fog. “My parents are in the cafeteria.” He paused, studying me. “They’re relieved you’re here with her, Blake. Theyknow you’ll make sure she gets the best possible care, but you need to eat.”

I pressed my palms against my eyes, this time guilt a poison in my veins. “I should never have left her side.”

“There’s no way you could have known?—”

“That doesn’t matter.” My voice cracked. “I left her alone and unprotected. Might as well have handed her to her killer on a silver platter. I suspected him, Ryker. The test results said no toxins, but … I never should have left him alone with her.”

“I could stand here and talk for an hour, but nothing I say will get through right now. You need rest and food.”

“I can’t possibly sleep.”

“Then we’ll work on item number two. I’ll get you something to eat.”

As Ryker’s footsteps faded, silence crept in like a fog. Only the steady beep of monitors broke through, each sound a cruel reminder that she should have woken up by now. Unable to stay still, I paced the length of the ICU room, my eyes fixed on the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

At her bedside, I brushed my knuckles along her skin. Too cold. The kind of cold that meant her cells had been starved of oxygen because I hadn’t protected her.

“Most everyone I’ve loved has left me, Tessa.” My voice was barely a whisper. “Don’t you dare leave me too. If you do …” The words caught in my throat.I’ll follow you. I’ll drink that same poison and chase you through whatever hell you’re experiencing until my heart stops beating.

My eyes burned at the sight of her. My fierce, independent Tessa, lying there helpless.

“You have to wake up.” The words spilled out, raw and desperate. “So I can tell you how I’ve always felt. I wasn’t sure I believed in love at first sight, but if it exists, I remember the exact moment it hit me: watching you walk past me as ateenager. The way you ran your fingers through your hair, how the sunlight caught those auburn highlights. Then your green eyes met mine, and my world just … stopped.”

I gripped her hand, her skin winter cold against mine. “You offered me this shy smile, but somehow found the courage to introduce yourself. Your voice was so light, so … undamaged. The world hadn’t been cruel to you yet, the way it had been to me when it took my parents. The way it would be when Sarah walked away. All I knew in that moment was that I wanted to protect you from the darkness in this world.”

Her eyelids didn’t flutter. Mouth didn’t open.

“You’re going to wake up.” My voice was raw from exhaustion and pain. “You have to.”

But the silence stretched on, broken only by the steady, mocking beep of machines. Hours bled together, marked by nurses’ quiet footsteps and the shadows crawling across the wall. Nothing changed. Nothing moved.

The hope I’d been clinging to finally cracked, piece by piece, like ice splintering beneath my feet?—

Something fluttered against my palm.

My gaze snapped to her fingers, heart suspended between beats. Had I imagined it?

“Tessa?” My pulse hammered against my ribs.

Her lashes trembled, and my world narrowed to that tiny movement. Leaning down, I cupped her cool cheek, careful not to disturb her oxygen mask. Her breath fogged the plastic in steady rhythm—in, out, in, out—each exhale a gift.