Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)(4)

Unfortunately for me, Sarah was never prosecuted for her drunken activities for a couple of different reasons. The first is that she wasn’t drunk when her blood alcohol level was taken. No one seems to care that her blood wasn’t taken until hours after the accident. Sarah was a cop’s wife. No one in that entire hospital was excited about pointing the finger at her. Oh, and there is always the f*cking debate about who was driving the car that night. That conversation always makes me heated. Technically no one can prove who was driving that night. Witnesses on the scene said that it was a redhead, like Manda, driving the car. I’ve always wondered how the hell they saw that in the dark though. Other witnesses at the restaurant said that it was a tall blonde who pulled out of the parking lot. I tend to trust those people a lot more.

Tonight, as Brett tried to talk Sarah out of killing herself, he uttered the only words that could ever make me help her. “What would Manda say about this?”

It wasn’t a new idea. I’ve thought about it a million times. But after spending the day at her grave with Jesse at my side, those words finally hit home. Manda would kill me if I let anything happen to Sarah. She would never forgive me if I didn’t do everything in my power to help her get better. She wouldn’t even be mad at Sarah for killing her. Manda was amazing like that. She loved Sarah. So when Brett said those words, I broke every promise I’d made to myself after the accident and saved Sarah from herself. I walked through the door, dropped to my knees in front of her, and told her the truth.

“Manda told me I need to help you. I still hate you, but she never would. I’m going to help you, Sarah. Not for you, but for her.” Then I picked her up and carried her out.

Thankfully she didn’t fight me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and repeated over and over again how sorry she was. I didn’t tell her that it was okay. I will never tell her that. I did, however, tell her how much Manda loved her and how she wouldn’t have blamed her for any of this. Manda always was a better person than I am.

So here I am, wrapped in the tiny arms of my very own guardian angel, Jesse Addison. Brett stands behind her, angry and frustrated. It’s obvious she made him come here today. I don’t blame him. Last night, Brett thought Sarah had a gun to Jesse’s head. He heard the gun shots, and I know they lodged directly in his heart. The fact that he’s here at all speaks wonders about how much he loves Jesse. And I know because a ghost dragged me here today.

“Hey, baby girl.” I give her a tight squeeze.

A few months ago, Brett would have blown up at me for touching Jesse, but he knows I’d never try to come between them now. Jesse is a little sister to me, and after everything Brett and I have been through, he’s more than a brother to me…whatever that may be. I’m happy for them yet still so jealous it hurts.

“How is she?” Jesse asks, looking up at me with tender brown eyes.

“She’s fine, I guess. They sedated her. You know she’s going to go into police custody after all that shit, right?”

She looks away and sadly nods. I have no idea how Brett got so lucky. Here is a woman who is genuinely worried about her boyfriend’s soon-to-be ex-wife—even after Sarah broke into her house with a gun. I have no doubts that Sarah would have harmed Jesse if she had been there. Suddenly, it hits me. Fuck, Manda would have loved Jesse for dragging Brett here. And just for that, I squeeze her just a little tighter.

“What are you doing here still? Have you been home at all?” Jesse asks.

“Nah, I just figured someone should be here for her. Even if it is just me.”

My words cause Brett to let out a string of cuss words then roughly drag his hands through his hair. He’s a good guy, and he loved Sarah. But after she pushed him away for years, he finally moved on with Jesse. I know Brett, and I’m sure he feels guilty as hell. He may not love her anymore, but he loved Sarah once.

“Hey, man. I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. You’re a better man than I am to be standing here right now at all. I just meant…someone should be here, but it definitely should not be you. You did the right thing this time. You two needed some alone time after yesterday.”

“Thanks, Caleb.” Jesse finally releases me and returns to her position at Brett’s side, tucked securely under his arm.

Without even thinking, Brett leans down and kisses the top of her head. I have to look away to keep the burning jealousy from seeping out.

“Brett!” I hear a woman yell.

I turn to see a tall blonde running full speed down the hall. She so eerily looks like Sarah that I unconsciously take a protective step towards Jesse. Brett, however, doesn’t move, and as she gets closer, the resemblance fades.

Sarah was always beautiful, but this woman, who barely slows when she reaches us, is easily the sexiest woman I have ever seen. Her long, straight hair is so blonde it’s almost white. It’s natural—I can tell that much. No color from a bottle could ever produce this shade. Her eyes are so bright that they must contain flecks of every color blue imaginable. It’s unbelievable. She’s dressed in jeans that hug her long and lean figure and a tight T-shirt that is barely able to stretch over her large breasts. She completes the ensemble with an unlikely pair of flip-flops. It’s February in Chicago, and we still have four inches of snow on the ground. It’s obvious that this woman isn’t from here. Interesting. I could a use a temporary long-distance distraction, and I have a feeling that body would more than do the job.