Page 215 of The Pucking Coach's Daughter

Penn makes a noise of objection.

In quick sentences, I describe how I found her. Not that they really need it laid out for them, with all the evidence scattered around. Their eyes just get wider, but finally Oliver and Penn both nod. They trade another glance, having some wordless conversation, and then Penn leans forward and lifts Sydney into his arms.

She thrashes for a moment, almost tipping out of his grip. Her eyes are closed, have been closed, but her struggle seems instinctual. My stomach turns. I never want to see that much of her blood…

“It’s just me, princess,” he whispers in her ear. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

She stops fighting him. Or maybe she passes out, because the next second, she goes limp.

“You and Oliver take her to the hospital,” I say. “I’ll stay here with Bear.”

Oliver’s gaze darkens. “Save a piece of him for us.”

Penn nods his agreement. Oliver lifts Sydney’s head, tucking it into the crook of Penn’s neck. Unconscious, maybe, but she hasn’t stopped shivering. Even with my jacket around her shoulders. And yes, I’m fully fucking shirtless in the middle of winter—at this point, it barely registers. Not until Oliver strips off his zipped sweatshirt and tosses it at me.

“Thanks,” I grunt. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

I’ve got work to do.

sixty-six

sydney

I’m in the hospital.

At least, I think it’s the hospital. There’s a faint beeping of a monitor, and the smell of antiseptic sticks in my nose. I shift in the bed, wanting to wake up but being unable to drag myself out of the darkness.

I’m just so tired. At least it doesn’t hurt anymore.

The last thing I remember is…

Oliver.

Penn.

I was so fucking mad at Penn. Terrified when my body went up, lifted into someone’s arms. And yet, everything went calm as soon as I registered that it was him. The minute I heard his voice. I settled… and I don’t know, something like peace swept through me.

Now, this.

Even though I’m still not convinced I’m not dying.

Would dying hurt?

Wait.

There’s no pain. That means I’m dead, right? Because pain ends there. Shit, I don’t want to be dead. There’s a lot I have left to do?—

“Why isn’t she opening her eyes?”

Oliver.

The beeping increases in frequency. I will my eyes to open, to push away that repressive darkness, and?—

There.

His face is the first thing I see, followed closely by Penn’s.

Penn, who I should still be furious at, but somehow only feel grateful that he stuck around.