The next two hours are a blur of activity as Sutton is admitted to the ER and checked over.
I try calling Kodie, but as we both know, he’s currentlyon a flight home.
He’s going to lose his shit when he lands. I left a voicemail for him to call me. But the second he sees my name, he’s going to know that something is wrong.
I speak to Kathleen and assure her that Sutton has been fully checked over and is okay. She took quite a hit and has a mild concussion. She was lucky, but there’s no doubt that she’ll feel it for a few days.
I press my hand to my chest, rubbing as I remember the pain of a hard hit.
Kathleen promises to be waiting for Kodie when he lands so they can drive here immediately.
As if turning his cell on to find a voicemail from me isn’t going to be bad enough. Finding his mom waiting is going to finish him off.
After I’ve assured her once again that Sutton is okay, I promise to message her our new location and hang up.
My entire body is trembling with adrenaline and nerves.
“Is everything okay?” Sutton asks when I step back into her bay.
I smile at her, trying to smother how I really feel.
“Of course. Your gran is going to pick your dad up the second he lands, and they’ll come here.”
“They don’t need?—”
“Sutton,” I say softly. “There is nowhere else in the world your father will want to be than by your side.”
“But I’m okay,” she argues.
Reaching out, I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Even when you’re okay, it’s his job to worry about you. You heard the doctor. They want to keep you here overnight just to be safe. He’ll want to be right here with you.”
She smiles, knowing that I’m right.
Suddenly, sadness washes across her face, and her bottom lip begins to tremble. I shift closer, my hand holding her tightly as her first sob breaks free. “I miss him,” she cries.
Me too, Sutton.
Me too.
67
KODIE
Ithrow my bag over my shoulder and step out of the airplane, my eyes watering with the brightness of the sun. It’s a vast cry from the miserable, gray day we left behind. But no amount of sun and warmth can soften the blow of what I find waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.
The second my eyes land on her, ice floods through my veins.
Shoving Marilyn aside, I race down with my heart lodged in my throat.
“Sutton?” I bellow as I race toward Mom.
Her face is pale and her eyes are wide as she watches me approach.
“She’s okay,” Mom says, sounding more confident than she looks.
My heart continues to race, my hands trembling with fear.
“Then why?—”
