Sara Stone - Full Exposure

His Jeep. The one he’d lent to Georgia.

Icy cold descended on him, numbing his body as his heart raced. It beat so fast, he felt as if it would explode in his chest. He swerved out of his lane and pulled over to the side of the road. A second later, he was out of his car and running. He had to get to her. Georgia. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not like this. Not to a car accident.

A wreck had claimed his sister’s life. But losing Georgia like this was another layer of hell. She was his heart. And he’d been too goddamn afraid to take the risk and fight for her.

Eric sprinted toward the Jeep. She’d offered love and strength to him and Nate. In a few short weeks, she’d become family. If by some miracle he was granted a second chance, he’d prove to her that he’d been wrong to let her go. So damn wrong.

A paramedic grabbed his arm. Eric tried to keep moving forward, nearly pulling them both to the ground.

“Hey, man, you can’t go over there,” the guy said.

“That’s my car,” he said. “Georgia’s in there. She’s my—” Nanny? Best friend’s little sister? Friend? Lover? She was all those things and so much more.

“She’s my everything,” he said.

“OK, man.” The paramedic wrapped his arm around Eric’s back, holding him shoulder to shoulder. “We’re going to get her out. Trust the guys to do their job.”

“She’s my everything,” Eric repeated. “But I never told her.”

GEORGIA OPENED HER eyes. She remembered the car and the white-haired, wide-eyed man behind the wheel. She’d seen a woman too, in the passenger seat. She was young and pretty, probably about Georgia’s age. The white-haired driver had sped toward her, crossing the double line. He had been going so fast, too fast. She’d swerved, avoiding a head-on collision. And then she’d lost control. She remembered the Jeep turning over.

And fear. The memory of her panic was crystal clear. It had paralyzed her. She’d lived through months in Afghanistan to die here? In a car accident? No, that couldn’t be right. Her mind rallied, fighting to stay present, to keep living. For Eric. For her brother. For herself. And for Nate.

Nate—she was supposed to pick him up. Now. Who would get Nate? That was her last clear memory before the pain won and she’d briefly drifted into nothing.

But now, she was awake. Alive. But still in the Jeep.

She blinked, slowly assessing her injuries. Her head throbbed, but the pain where the belt pressed against her lap was worse. Probably because she was hanging upside down and that belt was the only thing keeping her from landing on the car’s ceiling. Or what was left of the crushed roof.

Broken glass—the windshield—covered everything she could see. She tried turning her head, angling for a closer look. Pain shot through her. She moaned, closing her eyes.

“Ma’am?” A man’s voice called to her. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes.” The word felt awkward on her tongue, and she tried again. “Yes, I can.”

“We’re going to get you out of there,” he said. “The firefighters are working now.”

“If I can reach the buckle,” she said, lifting her hand. She could get herself out of here and find the voice. “I can crawl through the window.”

“No, ma’am. Please try to remain still. We’ll get you out,” the voice said. “Until we determine the extent of your injuries, try not to move.”

“I can do it,” she said. She wasn’t safe here, upside down. Hurting. Trapped. “I need to get out.”

She reached again for the buckle. Pain shot through her arm. So intense. So strong. She tried to fight it. Her head swam. Darkness descended. She pushed against it. But her strength—it wasn’t there.

“SHE’S BREATHING.” IT was the same voice. “Checking for bleeding.”

Hands moved over her limbs. She opened her eyes and saw nothing but blue sky, clear, no clouds. She tried to turn her head and realized she was strapped down. When they’d pulled her out, they must have strapped her to a backboard.

“Ma’am?” A young man hovered over her. “Can you tell me your name?”

“Georgia,” she gasped, struggling to form the words. “Why are we out in the open?”

“We’re moving you to an ambulance now.” He looked up and a second later the stretcher beneath her shifted, rocking forward.

She studied the man. He wore a paramedic’s uniform. But not military. She was home. She closed her eyes. A car accident. The white-haired man. She remembered. She hadn’t been strong enough to get out, to stay awake.

“Do you know what day it is?” the paramedic asked.

Georgia searched her memory, but came up blank. She went back, starting at breakfast. She’d made eggs for Nate when she got to work, not pancakes.

“It’s a school day,” she said. “I need to pick Nate up from school.”

“Your son?” he asked, his gaze sharp as he looked down at her.

She tried to shake her head, but couldn’t. “No. I’m his nanny. But he’s counting on me. I need to get to him. Please, you have to let me up.”

“Not yet, Georgia. We need to get you to the hospital and assess your injuries,” he said. “We’ll call Nate’s school and his parents.”

She heard sirens blaring. They were close, but unable to turn her head, she couldn’t see them.

“The other car,” she said, panic rising again, unbidden and unwelcome. “What happened to the other car? The driver? Is he OK?”

“He’s in critical condition,” the medic said. “They’re taking him to the hospital now.”

“And the passenger?” The woman, young and pretty . . .

The paramedic hesitated, glancing at someone she couldn’t see. “I don’t know,” he said.

But he did. Georgia knew he did.

“She died,” Georgia said. The stranger, about her age, her whole life ahead of her—she was gone.

“Let’s focus on you, Georgia.”

The pain faded into the background, replaced by a storm of guilt. She’d lived. Her mind fragmented. It was too much, too overwhelming. For the first time since she’d returned home, she felt as if she were shattering.

Her breaths came in short, strangled gulps for air. The stretcher stopped.

“We’re here.” She heard the paramedic’s voice. They’d reached the ambulance earmarked for her. She heard one of the men open the doors and hop inside.

The other turned to her. “Ma’am, are you OK? Deep breaths.”

“I need to get to them.” She fought for air, needing to speak. “The people in the other car. Please. I need them to live.”

The medic bent over her, his brow furrowed with concern. But he shouldn’t be worried about her. She’d lived. The others—he needed to help them.

Her strength? Where was it? Her hands balled into fists. Why would it fail her now? She closed her eyes. Pushing hard against the panic.

“I’ve got you.” Fingers laced through hers, squeezing her hand tight. “Georgia, trust me. I’ve got you.”

Georgia opened her eyes. “Eric.”

“I’m here. I won’t leave you. I’m not letting go.” He leaned over, his face and those serious blue eyes blocking out everything else.

The terror receded, but she felt herself reaching for it, clinging to it. “Nate,” she said. “I didn’t get him.”

His fingers brushed her cheek. “He’s OK. Katie picked him up.”

“The people,” she said. “In the other car—”

“Don’t worry about them. Not now, Georgia,” he said. “I need you to stay with me. I was so damn afraid I’d lost you.”

“The passenger died. She’s dead,” she said softly, staring up at Eric, begging him to understand. She couldn’t do this again. She couldn’t handle being the one who lived. It was too much.

He leaned down, his mouth close to her ear. “Close your eyes, Georgia. Picture the pond behind the house. Imagine the water and the cold. You lived. Feel it. Let everything else go.”

She obeyed, closing her eyes as they lifted her into the ambulance. Eric remained with her, holding her hand, never letting go.

“You don’t have to be strong,” he said. “Not this time. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

ERIC PACED BACK and forth in front of the local hospital, cell phone pressed to his ear. It rang and rang, then switched over to voice mail.

“Liam, pick up the damn phone,” he growled. “Georgia was in a car accident. She’s fine. Cuts, scrapes, a sprained wrist, and a concussion. They’re keeping her for observation and to run a few more tests. According to the cop who stopped by, it looks like she was hit by a drunk driver.”

Eric paused, staring up at the clear blue sky. Only a few hours had slipped by since he’d received the call from Nate’s preschool, but it felt like years.

“I’ve got her, Liam,” he said before the voice mail cut him off. “I love her and I’m not letting go. Not this time. Not ever again. But you should be here too. You’re her family. So get your ass over here.”

He ended the call and turned to go back inside. He wanted to talk to Georgia’s doctors. He wasn’t family. Not yet. But right now, he was the closest thing. And someone needed to look out for her.

“Uncle Eric!”

He turned and spotted his nephew running up the curved sidewalk, holding Katie’s hand. Eric dropped to one knee, gathering the little boy in his arms. “Hey, buddy. I’m sorry I couldn’t come get you today.” He drew back, running his hand through Nate’s hair. “Are you OK?”

“What happened to Georgia?” he demanded, his eyes wild with fear and worry.

Eric glanced up at Katie. He’d told her to keep Nate away from the scene of the accident, and then he’d sent a quick text asking her to meet him here. But he hadn’t offered instruction on how to tell a three-year-old who’d lost his parents in a car crash he probably didn’t remember about today’s events. Hell, he didn’t have a clue.