Saylor

“He’s okay,” I reassure him, his panic nearly consuming me. “He’s here right now. Isn’t that right, Grady? We’re just waiting for an ambulance.”

“What happened? Did he hit his head? Is he scared? What am I thinking? Of course, he’s scared.?

?? Owen’s anxiety is screaming at me with every word as he continues rambling. “Are you taking care of him, Say? He needs you right now. Shit, he needs me, and I’m halfway across the country. What can I do? I’m on my way to the airport––”

His voice is drowned out by the ambulance’s sirens echoing down the street. “Owen,” I interrupt. “The ambulance is pulling up right now––”

“Stay with him, Say. My parents will meet you at the hospital but just…stay with him. Even after they get there. He needs you. I’m begging you––”

I sniff but try to keep my voice from trembling as I choke out, “You don’t even need to ask me that, Owen. I’m not going anywhere. You know that.”

A beat of silence follows, and I can almost see him running his fingers through his hair, tugging on the roots as guilt and anxiety threaten to eat him alive. “I know, Say. Just…please watch over him for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

A stretcher is pulled out of the back of the parked vehicle before the EMTs surround us from both sides.

Grady’s eyes are wide and petrified.

“Say,” he whimpers, burrowing into my lap.

“Hey, I gotta go,” I murmur into my cell. “I’ll keep him safe. I promise.”

“Tell Grady I love him,” Owen rasps.

“I will.”

“Love you, too, Say.”

Chest tight, I look down at the little, vulnerable boy in my arms. The little boy I’d do anything for. The little boy I’d love to call my own if he and his dad would have me.

With a deep breath, I whisper, “Love you, too, Owen.”

Then, I hang up and become the rock Grady needs me to be. Because even though it’s only a broken arm, even though I know he’s going to be absolutely fine, and even though I know I’m not Grady’s mom and Owen’s on his way, it doesn’t stop my heart from pounding, or my palms from sweating, or my mind from going to the darkest places of what if’s imaginable.

I’m here.

And I’m not letting Grady out of my sight.

27

Saylor

“See? You’re all better,” I whisper as the nurse busies herself around the room. When we pulled up to the hospital, they did a quick exam, confirming that Grady’s arm is most definitely broken in two places and that he’d need a cast, fourteen stitches in the back of his head, and some pain killers for the massive headache he’ll be battling for the next couple of days.

But he’s okay, and he didn’t suffer a concussion. Which means he can get some sleep. He certainly needs it after the hell he’s been through.

“Thanks, Say,” Grady tells me in that same quiet voice that makes my chest tight.

“You’re welcome, buddy. I’m happy I could be here.”

“Me too.”

“Can I get you anything?” I ask, assessing him for any other bumps and bruises even though I know there aren’t any.

He shakes his head, then winces before searching for my hand with his good arm.

Once our fingers are woven together, he answers, “No. Just…don’t leave.”

I laugh. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise,” I repeat for what feels like the thousandth time. “Can I ask you something?”