Stolen Course (Wrecked and Ruined #2)(80)

My body finally kicks into gear and a jolt of adrenaline hits me hard, sending strength through my veins.

“Emma!” I yell while frantically pushing and pulling on the buckle of my seatbelt until, with the most magical click I have ever heard, it becomes unstuck.

I kneel up and immediately check for a pulse, ready to start CPR even before I can free her from the truck. I won’t lose them. I’m reclaiming my life here and now. The rhythm of her heart against my fingers rejuvenates me.

The relief is short-lived. She’s still alive, but even as I stroke her face, she doesn’t wake up.

“Are you okay in there?” I hear the voice of a Good Samaritan from outside.

“Call 911!” I scream, continuing to work to get Emma free. “Come on, Emmy. Stay with me,” I plead. “I need help! I need to get her out of here.”

“Can you lift her? I’ll grab her if you can get her up to the door,” The man says.

I can hear him climbing onto the side of the truck and trying to pry open the stuck door. I reach up, pull the lock, and push into his pulls. Together, we manage to get it open.

“I’m getting you out of here,” I say, unclipping her seatbelt before I press her up and out the door, into the arms of a stranger. “Be careful with her. She’s pregnant.” I call out as she disappears.

I reach up and pull myself out of the truck, jumping down to the road and racing to her side.

Someone has covered her with a blanket to keep her warm. I pause just steps away, paralyzed by my memories. I’ve seen a woman I love lying on the side of the road before. It’s only the realization that this one is still breathing that propels me the last few steps to her side.

“Emmy, wake up, sweetheart.” I drop to my knees beside her. My heart is racing as she lies motionless.

In the distance, I hear the sirens screaming. The lights bounce around the darkness as emergency crews surround us. Paramedics nudge me out of the way as they begin to work on her.

“Sir. I need you to step over here.” My body follows the command, but my eyes are unable to stray from Emma. “What’s your name, sir?”

“Caleb Jones.”

“Okay, great. And who is the woman?”

“My wife, Emma Jones.” Her name lodges in my throat as my voice gives out.

Shock has rendered me unable to form coherent thoughts, but all I know is that I need to get back to her. Even four feet away is too far right now.

I turn and head back towards her, only to get pulled away again. “Sir, please. I need you to answer a few questions.”

“Later,” I snap and shake off his touch. “Don’t f*cking touch me again.” I resume my stance over Emma, and just as they begin to load her onto the stretcher, her hand clumsily lifts to pull away the oxygen mask. “Emmy!” I shout, and she immediately reaches out to the side, searching for me. “I’ve got you, babe. I’m right here.” Relief at just this small sign of life consumes me.

“Okay, load her up!” The paramedic yells quickly, moving us both into the back of the ambulance.





“WHAT’S WRONG with her? Why is she so out of it?” I ask, pacing the hall of the emergency room. Two doctors and a nurse are inside, checking her over.

“Sir, I’m not sure. Let us look at her and the baby. We can’t give you any answers until we get a better idea of what’s going on,” a nurse says, passing me by and heading into Emma’s room.

The entire way here, Emma mumbled incoherently and drifted in and out of consciousness. I can’t take this anymore. I need some answers. My imagination is running rampant, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to keep it together.

“Mr. Jones.” The doctor steps into the hallway.

“How is she?” I stop in front of him pushing a shaking hand through my hair.

“Her vitals are stable for now. We are going to focus on the baby for a minute and then take her back for a few more in-depth tests.”

I rush out a breath, willing my pulse to slow.

“As you know, Emma still has five weeks until her due date. The baby is not quite ready to be born yet, but after a trauma like this, sometimes it’s safer for us to go ahead and take the baby.”

“Wait, will he be okay? I mean, if he’s born now? Isn’t it too early?” The fear that just faded immediately climbs again.

“Most babies his age do just fine with some extra care. Besides, as long as everything looks good, we will leave him safely where he is now. Why don’t you go in and sit with her while I run down and grab an ultrasound machine.” He tries to give me a reassuring smile, but none of this feels right.

I walk into the room, and the air is filled with the soft and steady whooshing of our baby’s heartbeat. Emma is hooked up to a bunch of monitors, a white blanket covering her.

I drag the chair from the corner of the small room over next to her and lean down with my head next to hers. “Hey, sweetheart. I could really use a glimpse of those blue eyes right now.”

She immediately turns her head towards me but barely cracks an eye. However, the minute the corner of her mouth lifts an inch, I completely lose it.

Tears fill my eyes. “Oh God, Emmy.” I’ve been holding it together for years, but this—this is just too much.