My head is pounding as I come to. Touching the back of my head, I wince as my fingers smear something wet. Pulling my hand back, I see blood.
What happen—
Trey.
I need to find Morgan.
Pushing myself up, I slam my eyes shut as blood rushes to my head, and excruciating pain squeezes my skull. That piece of shit must’ve knocked me out, hit me with something.
Bracing myself on the door outside of the restroom, I shout, “Morgan!”
My ears are ringing, but I shout again, “Morgan!”
No answer.
I race to where our camp was set up, but no one’s here.
No. Fuck. Please don’t tell me she’s gone. That he got her. That I couldn’t save her, save someone I love—again.
Flying down the hall, I race to the front doors and see a red pickup parked out front. That must be his. Which means they are still here. The door is ajar, but no one’s in sight.
Pushing the door open, I spot the footsteps leading to the truck and the area where she must have fought to not get inside—snow is matted down all over.
“Where are you, Little Dove?” I whisper as my heart pounds against my rib cage.
Little footsteps lead away from the truck. I follow them, taking off as fast as I can. They wrap around the building. When I turn the corner, my chest cracks wide open.
Across a frozen lake, I spot that light-pink hair on the ground.
Little Dove.
I take off running, numb to the cold air, snow falling down on me.
I can’t lose her. Fuck, I can’t fucking lose her.
My throat tightens, and my breaths quicken as I continue to race across the ice.
Please be okay. Please be okay.
I didn’t fall in love to have her ripped from me. I didn’t let her in, just to be torn apart. I didn’t tell her that I would keep her safe, only to fail her now.
The hole in the ice slows my steps, and I realize it might not be as thick as I thought. My pace remains fast, but my steps are gentle, almost gliding instead of running.
My baby, my Little Dove, is the best thing that has ever come into my life, ever happened to me. I used to think that was an odd phrase, that it sounded off, because people don’t happen to someone else. But I just didn’t understand it before.
Morgan happened to me. I didn’t just meet her and decide to love her, and that was that. No. She slammed into my life and changed absolutely everything. The way I looked at the sport I’d always loved, at the pain of my past, and at how I saw myself. The time I’d spent without her in my life seemed dull in comparison to life with her.
There is no way I can go back to life without her.
Closing the distance to her, I gently place my hand on her chest and focus. Holding my breath, I wait to see hers. The second I feel her inhale, I scoop her up and run as fast as I can to the house by the lake. I would go back to the library, but it’s too far. She needs to get warm as soon as possible. She is soaking wet and stone cold in my arms.
“Morgan? Baby?” I cry out to her as tears run down my cheeks. “Wake up, baby. Wake up. I’ve got you.”
Racing to the little house, I fly up the porch, brace Morgan’s weight on one arm, and pound on the door.
“Help us! Please! Open the door! Please!” I cry out louder and louder. “Hello!”
Someone runs to the door and throws it open.
Susan.
“Oh my Lord, what happened?” Susan shouts as she ushers us inside.
My breaths are choppy and ragged as I try to explain, “We were staying at the library. Her ex showed up. He knocked me out. I came to and found her soaked on the ice. Please help her.” My voice cracks. “I can’t lose her.”
“It’s okay. She’s still breathing. But we need to warm her up,” Susan tells me, helping me lay Morgan on the rug in her living room.
“We need to get these wet clothes off of her. Go to the kitchen and grab the scissors in my knife block,” she orders.
Nodding, I rush to the kitchen and find the scissors. I return to her side as fast as possible and hand Susan the scissors as she talks to someone on the phone.
“Hi. A girl fell through the ice on the lake near my house. We need an ambulance right away.” Susan gives them her address, and they assure her that help is on the way.
She cuts the bottom of my hoodie all the way to the neck and peels it off of Morgan’s delicate frame. She is so lifeless as Susan cuts through her leggings and strips the pieces off of her.
“Grab those blankets,” Susan says, pointing to the stack of blankets on the couch.
Reaching over, I grab the blankets and follow what she’s doing. Draping them over Morgan, layering them, and covering every inch of her, aside from her face.
“We need to slowly raise her temperature. If we go too fast, it can be deadly.”
Deadly.
As she lays the final blanket over her, I rock back onto my ass and wrap my arms around my knees as cries burst from my chest. “Morgan, please don’t leave me. Please. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Susan pats my knee. “She would be dead right now if it wasn’t for you, Cam. You saved her life. She is alive, she is breathing, and help is on the way.”
Clenching my teeth, I groan, and tears continue to stream down my face. Sirens wail in the distance, growing louder by the minute, and I do my best to calm my uneven breathing.
Lying down next to my Little Dove, I kiss her forehead and whisper, “I love you so much. Don’t leave me, Little Dove. I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”
She is so strong and resilient. And funny. And beautiful. And everything I was scared of in life. I was scared to love because love was a constant risk of pain. But I didn’t stand a chance when she kissed me. I was already too far gone. Maybe deep down, I loved her even then.
The door opens, and cops and EMTs file in and begin asking a bunch of questions, all of which Susan answers for me. Telling them how Morgan’s ex showed up, how he must’ve fallen through the ice, too, and how he either never got out or ran for it.
They load Morgan onto a gurney and wheel her to the ambulance.
I follow them out, and a cop stops me.
“Sir, we’re going to need to speak with you. Can you tell us what happened here?”
Looking down at his worried stare, I say, “Ask me at the hospital or afterward. I’ll tell you everything. But my only concern right now is her.”
He nods. “We will meet you there.”
I hop into the ambulance, the doors are shut, and we pull away to the hospital.
I have felt fear a lot of times in my life. Every time I came home, every time my dad was mad, every time I made a mistake and knew what punishment was coming. When I came home and found my mom. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t stop that monster from taking her life. But I could put him away by facing those fears and telling the cops everything he had done. By showing them my scars and fresh wounds and the whips he kept in the house. By being on display at the trial for the jury to see and feel pity for.
Fear has never felt as painful as the thought of losing her.
“Can you sit up for me?” the EMT asks, and I oblige. “I’m going to check you over. What happened to your head?”
“I got hit. I don’t know what hit me. I was out for a few minutes, I think,” I tell him as he shines a light in my eyes. “Can we do this later? Focus on her.”
“We can do this now or when we get to the hospital,” he states.
“Make it fast,” I tell her, grabbing Morgan’s hand.
He finishes looking me over and says I might have a concussion, and he gives me the rundown on concussion aftercare. I don’t remember a single word. I can’t think of anything other than Morgan.
I wish I could give her my warmth and give her the air in my lungs. I wish I could’ve taken Trey down. I hope he is lying dead in that water. If he’s alive and out there somewhere, I will hunt him down.
When we get to the hospital and they rush her inside, and I drag myself away from her and walk to the waiting room.
The cops walk in shortly after I take a seat in the waiting room, coming over to me immediately. They ask my name and my statement of what happened. I tell them everything. How Trey stalked her and broke into the library, knocked me out, clearly tried to kidnap her, and that I don’t know what happened after that. That I came to and found her and rushed her to Susan’s.
“We found three sets of footprints on the ice, but only two leading to the hole on the ice. With a thermal drone, we detected an abnormality in the water and will do a proper search of the water as soon as possible. What do you know about this ex? Name?” the cop asks.
That’s my girl. She did it. She won. Pride bursts across my skin like fireworks of happiness.
He’s dead and never coming back.
“I only know his first name. It’s Trey. I’m sorry. But her best friend might his last name. Chloe…” shit, what’s her last name? “Du-“
“Chloe DuPont?” the cops asks, clearly knowing exactly who Chloe is.
“Yeah. I don’t know his name. But I know he used to hurt her really bad, but she ended up getting away. She came here and was safe for a while. But he found her again,” I tell them as a mix of rage and relief floods me that this is finally over for her.
One of them steps away and makes a phone call out of earshot.
“We will need to get her statement as soon as she wakes up.” He hands me his card. “Call us when that happens.”
“You got it,” I tell him before he walks over to the other cop.
After I pace for what feels like hours, someone comes out and gets me.
“She is stable and awake. And asking for you.”
“Can I see her?” I gasp.
“Right this way,” she informs me, and I follow her with my heart in my hands, ready to completely hand it over to Morgan.
She leads me down never-ending hallways before stopping at a door and knocking. She pushes it open slightly, and I burst through it.
“Morgan?”
Seeing her awake and sitting up in her bed is the best thing I have ever seen.
“Oh, thank God,” I whisper and throw my arms around her.
Tears rush down my face as I rub my hands on her back.
My Little Dove. My Morgan. My fucking everything.
“Are you crying?” she whispers, pulling back enough to see my face.
Nodding, I gently cup her face and press my lips on hers. “I love you.”
Her eyes well up with tears. “I love you too.”
“Are you okay? Pain? Are they taking good care of you? Do you need any—”
“Shh. I’m okay, Cam. You saved me,” she whispers, caressing my jaw with both hands.
Our tears fall between us.
“I should’ve been there. I should’ve seen him coming.”
Her thumbs stroke my cheeks. “Trey is gone, and I am safe and alive. I would be dead right now if it wasn’t for you. Don’t you understand that? You saved my life.”
Nodding, I stare into her eyes—those perfect blue eyes. Ones I want to look into forever.
Sitting down in the chair next to her, I take her hand in mine. “The cops want to talk to you whenever you’re up for it.”
The door swings open, and we expect a nurse or doctor. But an angry Chloe Dupont bursts through the door.
Her anger fades immediately when she spots Morgan. “Oh my God. Are you okay?”
She rushes to the other side of the bed and leans over her, lightly squeezing her in a hug.
“I’m okay. Better now that Trey’s gone,” Morgan says, smiling.
“What happened?” Chloe asks.
My brave, strong girl takes a deep breath. “We were at the library, and Cam went to the bathroom, so I got up and went to sit at the table next to us to wait for him. But when it seemed like he’d been gone for too long, I kind of started freaking out. But then I heard his footsteps coming back and relaxed.” She takes a deep, shaky breath. “But it wasn’t Cam. It was Trey.”
“I’m so sorry.” Chloe takes Morgan’s other hand in hers.
I caress her still-cold fingers in mine as she continues, “H-he dragged me outside to his pickup. When I saw that truck again, it made me sick. I couldn’t get inside it.” Her eyes well up with tears. “I kicked him as hard as I could in his balls, and I ran as fast as my legs would take me to Susan’s house. But he caught up to me when we were on the lake, and when he tackled me, we fell through the ice. It was so cold. I felt like we were down there forever. We fought under the water, and I somehow got the gun from him. And I shot him. And I didn’t stop shooting until it stopped firing.”
She looks at me with fear, and I don’t know what she’s scared of right now. If it’s of judgment from me, she won’t find any here.
Nodding at her, I show her my support with my smile and kiss her hand.
“When he went still, I waited to see if he would move. I swear I saw the moment when he died. In his eyes, I mean.”
I wish she hadn’t had to see that. The way her eyes are glazed over right now, I know she’s back there, watching it all over again.
“I was able to get out of the water and onto the ice, but when I was walking back, I must’ve passed out. Next thing I knew, I was here,” she says.
“I’m so proud of you,” I whisper to her.
Reaching out, I wipe her tears away from her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she whispers back with sad eyes.
“It’s over now, thank God. Cam messaged me, and I rushed over here,” Chloe says, grabbing her attention. “I guess I won’t scold you for having me locked up by my own staff.” She smirks.
Morgan grimaces. “I’m sorry about that. But I knew your crazy ass would try to be a hero. If I could have, I would have had your team take this one too,” she says, looking at me.
I laugh. “They could have tried. Nothing was keeping me from you.”
Morgan stares at me with adoration and asks, “Do you want to let the cops know I’m awake? I want to get that over with already.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to rest? They can wait, baby,” I tell her.
She needs to take care of herself and relax. But I know she won’t fully breathe until all of this is done and gone.
“Call them, please,” she says as a knock sounds at the door.
A nurse enters and says, “There are some police here who want to speak with you. But I can make them come back if you’re not up for it right now.”
Well, with that response time, they must have a mind reader on the force.
“It’s fine. Let them in,” Morgan tells the nurse.
She nods and leaves the room, appearing shortly after with … definitely not cops, but agents of the Federal Bureau of Investigation—clear from the jackets they are both wearing.
“Morgan Dove?” the male agent asks, walking into the room.
“Yes?”
“My name is John. May we ask you a few questions about what happened today?”
“Yeah,” she answers. “Can I ask why you’re here and not the police?”
The female agent introduces herself. “Hi, Morgan. My name is Elle. We were brought in because the man who attacked you crossed state lines to do so. The second he did that, it became a federal case.”
“That makes sense,” Morgan mumbles.
“How did you know the man who attacked you tonight?” John asks her.
Morgan tells them about the past she had with Trey. She continues to answer nonstop questions from the agents, who take down every detail.
When they finish questioning Morgan, they do the same to me. I explain that Trey hit me in the head, and when I woke up, I went looking for Morgan and found her on the ice.
They thank us for our time and say that if we remember anything, we should give them a call, and they will reach out if they need anything else.
Deciding to give Chloe and Morgan a few minutes of their own, I offer to grab them dinner. I also need to let the team know I might be gone for a few more days.
After getting Morgan’s request for KFC, I give Kos a call to fill him in on why I haven’t responded to his texts or calls the last few hours.
“Hey, man. What’s going on?” Kos asks, sounding concerned.
“Mor—Nikki was attacked by her ex-boyfriend. The cops are here; the Feds are here. It’s a long story. But she’s okay. I’m okay. I just might be gone a few more days,” I tell him.
“Holy shit, Cam. That’s insane. Did they catch the guy at least?” Kos asks, and I hear Brett in the background, telling him to put the phone on speaker.
“Well, kind of. He’s dead now. They have to fish his body out of a lake.”
“Oh my God, you killed him? Do you need me to send a lawyer? Money?” Kos asks, jumping into dad mode.
I laugh. “No. The piece of shit came up behind me and hit me in the back of the head. Long story short, Nikki took off from him, but he caught her, and they fell into the frozen pond. She managed to shoot him and get out. That’s when I found her, passed out on the ice. She was so cold. I don’t know how she’s alive. She felt … dead.” My voice cracks on the last word.
I almost lost her. In a matter of minutes, she could have never woken up. Terror racks my body at the thought.
“I’m so sorry, man. She’s okay now though?” Brett asks.
“Yeah. She’s awake. I went and grabbed food for them, and her best friend is there with her now,” I tell them, my voice returning to normal.
“Take as much time as you need. I’ll let Coach know. But you might want to shoot him a text or something too,” Kos says.
“I just need to make sure she stays awake and alert. I wish I could bring her back with me,” I say, feeling my chest tighten at the thought of leaving her here.
“Do it!” Brett shouts excitedly.
Sighing, I say, “She’s got her business here. It’s not that easy.”
“You guys will figure it out,” Kos says, sounding so sure.
“Yeah,” I say, tucking the bag in my coat and walking into the hospital. “I’m just getting back. I’ll update you in a bit.”
“All right, man. Tell her hi for us,” Kos says, and Brett says, “Bye, Costy.”
Hanging up, I walk back to her room, and when I walk in, her face lights up.
Kos was right. I could bring her back with me. But that’s a conversation we need to have later. Although I’m exhausted and in emotional overdrive, I’ve never thought so clearly about her. I love Morgan with everything I have, and I’m never letting her go.
