“And the passenger?” The woman, young and pretty . . .
The paramedic hesitated, glancing at someone she couldn’t see. “I don’t know,” he said.
But he did. Georgia knew he did.
“She died,” Georgia said. The stranger, about her age, her whole life ahead of her—she was gone.
“Let’s focus on you, Georgia.”
The pain faded into the background, replaced by a storm of guilt. She’d lived. Her mind fragmented. It was too much, too overwhelming. For the first time since she’d returned home, she felt as if she were shattering.
Her breaths came in short, strangled gulps for air. The stretcher stopped.
“We’re here.” She heard the paramedic’s voice. They’d reached the ambulance earmarked for her. She heard one of the men open the doors and hop inside.
The other turned to her. “Ma’am, are you OK? Deep breaths.”
“I need to get to them.” She fought for air, needing to speak. “The people in the other car. Please. I need them to live.”
The medic bent over her, his brow furrowed with concern. But he shouldn’t be worried about her. She’d lived. The others—he needed to help them.
Her strength? Where was it? Her hands balled into fists. Why would it fail her now? She closed her eyes. Pushing hard against the panic.
“I’ve got you.” Fingers laced through hers, squeezing her hand tight. “Georgia, trust me. I’ve got you.”
Georgia opened her eyes. “Eric.”
“I’m here. I won’t leave you. I’m not letting go.” He leaned over, his face and those serious blue eyes blocking out everything else.
The terror receded, but she felt herself reaching for it, clinging to it. “Nate,” she said. “I didn’t get him.”
His fingers brushed her cheek. “He’s OK. Katie picked him up.”
“The people,” she said. “In the other car—”
“Don’t worry about them. Not now, Georgia,” he said. “I need you to stay with me. I was so damn afraid I’d lost you.”
“The passenger died. She’s dead,” she said softly, staring up at Eric, begging him to understand. She couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t handle being the one who lived. It was too much.
He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. “Close your eyes, Georgia. Picture the pond behind the house. Imagine the water and the cold. You lived. Feel it. Let everything else go.”
She obeyed, closing her eyes as they lifted her into the ambulance. Eric remained with her, holding her hand, never letting go.
“You don’t have to be strong,” he said. “Not this time. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
ERIC PACED BACK and forth in front of the local hospital, cell phone pressed to his ear. It ran
g and rang, then switched over to voice mail.
“Liam, pick up the damn phone,” he growled. “Georgia was in a car accident. She’s fine. Cuts, scrapes, a sprained wrist, and a concussion. They’re keeping her for observation and to run a few more tests. According to the cop who stopped by, it looks like she was hit by a drunk driver.”
Eric paused, staring up at the clear blue sky. Only a few hours had slipped by since he’d received the call from Nate’s preschool, but it felt like years.
“I’ve got her, Liam,” he said before the voice mail cut him off. “I love her and I’m not letting go. Not this time. Not ever again. But you should be here too. You’re her family. So get your ass over here.”
He ended the call and turned to go back inside. He wanted to talk to Georgia’s doctors. He wasn’t family. Not yet. But right now, he was the closest thing. And someone needed to look out for her.