I sat with her in my lap, her shivering in my arms, which likely didn’t provide much warmth, but there was nowhere else I would allow her to be. Her head rested against my collarbone, and I held her as tightly as I could without causing additional pain. Hilde retrieved blankets from storage and cast them around my shoulders, pulling them around us to help block the wind.
Sophia’s cold fingers crept up to my collar, and her fingertips rested against the side of my neck, like she desired a connection with me where nothing stood between us, and I closed my eyes as I endured the intense relief it brought on.
“I’m sorry,” she started.
“No.” There was no reason for her to apologize. She’d done nothing wrong.
But she continued. “I ruined our day.”
I inhaled sharply. I was overwhelmed, unable to take any more, and so it burst from my lips as an urgent plea. “Stop talking.”
She flinched, and I clenched my jaw. It was a response to protect my emotions, but I didn’t mean it how it had sounded.
“Please,” my voice was grave, “just let me hold you and listen to the sound of you breathing.”
Her hand curled around my collar, her knuckles against my skin. It allowed her to hold on to me without breaking our connection.
She didn’t speak again.
Not even when the marina came into view with an ambulance parked at the end of the dock.
TWENTY-SIX
MACALISTER
PORT COVE HOSPITAL’S EMERGENCY ROOM wasn’t busy, but the few people seated in the chairs in the waiting area watched me more than the television playing nearby. Their thoughts were loud on their faces.
What is Macalister Hale doing here, and why is he wearing hospital scrubs?
One of the nurses had given them to me to stop my shivering. I preferred the cold, but even I had my limits, and the chill of the water wouldn’t leave my bones. Or perhaps it was the memory of Sophia splayed out on my yacht’s deck, looking very dead, and the realization that it was entirely my fault.
It hurts everywhere, she’d said.
I felt that now.
The EMT in the ambulance had tried to reassure me as we’d raced toward the hospital that what I’d done was right.
“Sometimes that cracking sound,” he’d said to me, “is the cartilage around the sternum separating. It doesn’t necessarily mean you broke anything.” When it was clear I wasn’t convinced, he added, “Remember, better to wake up with a cracked sternum or broken ribs than not wake up at all.”
I leaned back in the uncomfortable hospital chair, letting my head rest against the wall. I didn’t care what anyone else thought for once, or this disheveled state they were seeing me in. All my energy was depleted, my emotions wrecked, and I shut my eyes to rest for a long moment.
“Dad.”
I jerked upright at the hand on my shoulder, and once my son came into focus, he stepped back and straightened. Vance was the last person I expected to see.
There was a bag slung over a shoulder, and he pulled the strap off, holding it out to me. “Change of clothes.”
I stood and took it from him. “What are you doing here?”
“Lucas called and told me what happened.” He meant Ridley. I’d forgotten they’d been friends in high school. My son paused, and quiet worry filled his voice. “Is she all right?”
Shame burned through me. “I was waiting for an update, but I’m not sure how long I’ve been out. She was conscious and talking in the ambulance.”
Vance ticked his head. “Interesting. You didn’t think I was asking about the Checkmate.”
“The ship is fine,” I snarled, “no thanks to its captain.” Soon to be former captain.
He read my thoughts. “Accidental gybes are accidents. It’s right there in the fucking name. He had no way of knowing she’d go—”
“If you came here to plead for your friend’s job, then let me save you your breath.”
He threw up his hands and walked backward. “Nope, I came to see how you were, but you’re obviously fine.”
I was not fine. She nearly died.
It hurts everywhere.
“Stop,” I commanded.
Vance scowled, but he stayed where he was. He eyed me cautiously as I approached, and then alarm filled his expression as I put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him to me.
He went wooden. “What are you doing?”
It’d been so long since I’d hugged him, he didn’t trust or recognize it. I’d always pushed him and Royce away, believing I didn’t need help, and still—he’d come despite that. I patted him on the back, wanting to say more, but couldn’t bring myself to. “Thank you for the clothes.”
When I pulled back, he stared at me like I’d just told him I wanted to give all my HBHC shares away. His eyes were incredibly wide. “You’re freaking me out. Are you okay?”