Busted (Promise Harbor Wedding)(47)

She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, getting a grip. When she could speak without fear of her voice wobbling, she met Eric’s eyes. “I do excel at my job.”

He gestured to the cut on her head. “He’s still out there somewhere.”

“And you think I’m the only cop responsible for bringing him in?” Yes, she wanted to catch the bastard, but she had a damn good partner and other cops working to make the collar too. “We’ll get him.”

“So come be a cop in Boston.”

“Eric, I don’t love you.”

He scoffed. “We screwed up, made a few mistakes. We can figure out where things went wrong and get back on track.”

She wasn’t naive enough to hold him accountable for all the things that had gone wrong with their relationship. As determined as he was to start over, she knew he wouldn’t hesitate to blame her for most of their incompatibility. “That’s not what I want.”

His shoulders stiffened and he glanced out across the lake. “Is this because of Jackson?”

“Jackson’s gone.”

“I heard he left town. Then what’s holding you here? Why can’t you give me a second chance?”

The desperation that crept into his tone surprised her. Eric wasn’t one to show any vulnerability. He considered it a sign of weakness.

He finally nodded. “You probably think I’m crazy.”

“Confused maybe. Not crazy.” Demanding, arrogant and selfish too, but there wasn’t any point in going there.

“You need someone with you, Hayls.”

No, she really didn’t. “I’m fine.”

“The break-in,” he began.

“An isolated incident.” Possibly. There hadn’t been any other damage or threats, but she wasn’t dismissing what happened.

Eric glanced at the house. “He was a dick to leave you here by yourself.”

She was still frustrated enough that she couldn’t bring herself to disagree. Her phone rang then, and she hoped it would give her an excuse to send Eric on his way. She recognized Matt’s number.

“Hayley? You need to meet me at the hospital. Now.”

“What’s wrong?” She pushed to her feet, striding past.

“It’s Gramps.” Matt’s voice cracked. “We’re losing him.”

“On my way.” She sprinted toward the house, darting inside long enough to grab shoes and her keys.

She slammed into Eric on her way out. “What’s going on?”

“I need to get to the hospital. Gramps… They need me. He’s…” A sob worked up into her throat.

Eric held his hand out for the keys. “I’ll drive you.”

It was easier to hand them over than to argue with him. It felt like the drive to the hospital took forever, scenery blurring past. The urgency of it all, needing to see her grandfather, to talk to him, to tell him she loved him, squeezed her chest to the point she could barely breathe without it hurting.

It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t supposed to die yet. There was more for him to see, more to share with him. She’d made her peace with her dad never walking her down the aisle or holding the children she hoped to have one day, but she’d always assumed Gramps would be there for that. Had counted on it.

And now…

“Go.” Eric pulled up directly in front of the hospital, and she got out and ran through the doors.

The hallways were empty except for a couple patients and visitors, and she took the stairs, too hurried to wait for the elevator. A nurse was waiting for her outside the palliative care unit. The grim look on her face made the pain in Hayley’s stomach worsen.

She stopped at the doorway to her gramps’s room, and then Matt was there, pulling her into his arms.

“He’s gone, Hayley.”

No.

She shook her head and pulled free. She crossed to the bed where he lay and lifted his hand. She slid into the chair next to the bed and rested her forehead on his hand. Tears ran freely down her cheek, hot on her skin. She wiped at them, willing him not to be gone. Not yet. She wasn’t ready to let him go.

“What happened?”

Hayley heard her mother’s voice behind her. She moved to the opposite side of the bed and ran her fingers across his face, smoothing his hair back.

“His body just started shutting down. I thought we had more time.” Matt stood next to her, and Hayley held up her hand for him to take.

“I was here this afternoon. He was sleeping again. I thought it was just from another bad night. I should have stayed, waited until he woke up.” Every word stuck in her throat. “Were you here?” She looked up at her brother.

Matt nodded. Eyes shining, his lips curved in a sad smile. “I stopped by to see him. He was tired but wanted to watch the draft again. Then he said he needed to go lie down. It happened so fast.” His voice broke, and he pressed his lips together. “Right before his heart finally gave out, he was talking about seeing Dad and Nan really soon.”

Their mother bowed her head, her shoulders shaking, and pain slashed through Hayley all over again.

It was all too much. Too much at once. And they’d known. His prognosis had been grim from the start, but the longer he’d held on, the more Hayley had convinced herself they still had time. God, she’d known he was dying. Why didn’t that make any of this easier?

The pressure on her chest was unbearable. “I need some air.” She let go of Matt’s hand and walked out of the room.

Outside the hospital she had room to move without feeling closed in. She sat on the bench down the sidewalk from the main entrance. The tears had started to slow, and she tried hard not to think about the fact that she would never again see her grandfather get riled up over a hockey game on television, or pour another drink at Stone’s, or laugh at something she said.

A few minutes later Matt sat next to her. She hadn’t even noticed him walking toward her.

“He’s not suffering any more, Hayls.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“We’ll get through this.” Matt held her hand and they sat in silence for a while, then he went back inside to wait for their mother. Hayley dug out her phone. It crossed her mind to call Jackson, but she didn’t trust herself not to fall apart.

Instead she dialed Gavin’s number. Hayley thought she was fine until Gavin’s voice mail clicked in, and the sound of her best friend’s voice made her crumble inside. She squeezed her eyes shut, trapping the tears that burned behind her eyes.

“Gav, I need to talk to you. Things are so messed up and Gramps…” She pressed her lips together, swallowing tightly. “He’s gone, Gavin.”

She made herself hang up before she started crying on the phone. She didn’t want to freak her friend out completely, and she’d only worry him if she lost it while the message was still recording.

Matt was right. They would get through it. She just didn’t know when it would ever stop hurting.





See you around, Jackson.

Hayley’s words replayed through his head for the hundredth time since he’d left Promise Harbor.

He started to reach for his phone, as he had half a dozen times since he’d gotten off the plane, then remembered he’d left it to charge in his hotel room this morning.

He’d tried calling her last night, only to chicken out at the last second every time, words failing him. She’d sounded like she was saying good-bye to him, and although he’d known it would come down to that—hadn’t he?—he found it wasn’t sitting well with him at all.

If didn’t help that he knew she’d been upset that he’d left before the autograph signing. Did she know yet that he’d called Bernice on his way out of town and asked her to reschedule the signing for the following weekend?

Bernice had readily agreed, and then guilt-tripped him into bringing along some more hockey friends and moving the early VIP party to a bigger venue to allow for more ticket sales. By the time she was done with him, he’d also agreed to foot the bill for the catering.

“Mr. Knight? Jackson?” a man’s voice prompted.

Jackson glanced from the spot at the center of the ice below that displayed the Sentinels insignia, vaguely aware he hadn’t said anything in a while.

He nodded, trying to focus on what the two men next to him were saying. The general manager, dressed in an expensive suit that reminded Jackson of something Eric Thorton would wear, stood beside the Sentinels coach.

The Sentinels arena was empty, and although first walking inside had felt a little like coming home, the sensation had passed too quickly. He found himself searching for his earlier enthusiasm.

This was what he wanted. Wasn’t it?

He listened with half an ear to the conversation that touched on player contracts, stats and league bullshit that he’d managed to forget about. He believed what Mitch Stone had said about being a good coach, but standing here, something about the whole thing just felt…off.