Recalled (Death Escorts #1)(59)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I was leaving because I couldn’t sit there and watch her die.

No, she wouldn’t die from the car accident. But she was dying. Somewhere right now Charming and G.R. were plotting against us, against her. I couldn’t sit by while someone planned the death of the only person I ever loved.

That’s the thing about death. It doesn’t care about love. It doesn’t care if you’re not done living. It doesn’t stop… It keeps coming until it claims everything a person has, until there’s nothing left.

When I walked by the waiting area I saw Hobbs leaning back in a chair with his feet outstretched before him and his ankles crossed. He had his hands lying over his middle and his head leaned back, looking up toward the ceiling. His eyes were closed. I stepped up before him and he opened his eyes and straightened.

“Is she all right?”

I nodded. “She’s sleeping and I need to get cleaned up. Can you drive me home?”

The Roadster was totaled. And I really didn’t care.

“Of course.” He stood. The gray suit he always wore looked fresh and unlined—even though he’d spent most of the night sleeping in a hospital chair.

In the car, Hobbs tried to talk to me. “About the accident, sir, what happened?”

I leaned my head back against the seat. “I don’t want to talk about it, Hobbs.”

“Of course,” he murmured.

There was nothing left to say. I knew what I had to do.

Chapter Fifty-Four

“Love – an intense emotion of affection, warmth, fondness, and regard towards a person or thing.”

Piper

When I opened my eyes, they went to the chair pulled up close beside the bed. It was empty. Dex was gone. I wasn’t sure how long he stayed, but I know he had for quite a while because the chair cushions still bore the imprint from his body.

As much as I wanted to see him, I was sort of relieved he wasn’t here. I needed to sort out everything that happened and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to do that with him so close.

I’d always known there was something about him I recognized—something I was missing. It wasn’t just the vision. The night Dex walked into the diner, I knew he was there for me. I hadn’t understood it at the time; I probably would’ve brushed those feelings off right then if he hadn’t touched me. If I hadn’t seen the man that saved me in that vision.

And I was right. All along. He was connected to the man who was hit by the bus and he’d also been there for me.

But he wasn’t there with good intentions.

The cold truth was that he tried to kill me. More than once.

But he also saved me. More than once.

What was a girl supposed to do with that?

A smart girl—me—would run far away. Would hit the call button beside me and tell the nurse when Dex came back to keep him away, to ban him from the room.

I heard his confession. I felt his hand holding mine and I heard the acceptance and finality in his tone that he would walk away and I would never see him again.

A smart girl would have let him go.

But I loved him.

Did that make me stupid?

Maybe so, but I wasn’t going to change my mind. For so long I was torn between a man that I hadn’t known, a man who was dead but still felt alive, and a man who was right in front of me, a man I had feelings for but tried not to.

Turns out they were one in the same.

I wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible and what it meant for us, but I was sure whatever it was we could figure it out. I saw the way he looked at me when he thought I was still asleep. I felt the gentleness in his touch and heard the longing in his voice. He loved me too, and for now, I was going to hold on to that. I guess time would tell if it was enough.

Chapter Fifty-Five

“Cracked—Broken so that fissures appear on the surface.”

Dex

I rushed through my shower and then quickly pulled on a pair of beat up jeans, a white long-sleeved thermal shirt, and a navy blue zip-up hoodie. I rummaged through the bathroom until I found the wire-rimmed glasses that came with my body—the glasses I thought were dorky and stupid looking—and shoved them onto my face. My vision straightened out and I breathed a sigh of relief. It no longer mattered what kind of glasses I wore; there were more important things in life.

Like living.

I pushed my hands through my damp hair a couple times and jammed my feet into the black converse sneakers before rushing downstairs into the kitchen.

“Can I borrow your car, Hobbs?”

Hobbs turned from the stove where he was frying bacon and looked at me with lifted eyebrows. “Going somewhere?”

“I have something I need to take care of.”

I thought I saw a flash of respect in his eyes, but then it was gone and he was gesturing toward the keys on the island. I grabbed them up and snagged my coat off the back of a chair.

“Thanks, I don’t know when I’ll be back.” Or even if I’ll come back.

“Don’t you want something to eat?” Hobbs asked in mild surprise.

“No time.”

“Here, I made you a coffee to go,” he said, sitting a travel mug on the counter.

“Sweet,” I said, taking the coffee and then snatching a couple pieces of bacon right from the pan.

It was snowing when I pulled out of the garage and onto the street—big, fat flakes that were the purest shade of white. They seemed to attack the car in a frenzy, clinging to what parts it could and rushing at the windshield as I drove.

I remembered exactly how to get to G.R.’s. The Grim Reaper’s address wasn’t something I think anyone would forget. True, I hadn’t known at the time he was the Grim Reaper, but it had always been obvious he wasn’t just an ordinary rich guy in the suburbs. As I drove through the gate of the community where he lived, I wondered what all the residents in the neighborhood would think if they knew they lived next to the ultimate life stealer.

They’d never believe it.

I could hear the news interviews now… “He was always the most cheerful, friendly neighbor. He never caused any trouble and he always brought his trash cans in on time.”

I snorted. That was the thing about the Grim Reaper. He didn’t have to be scary. He didn’t have to walk around in a cloak carrying a scythe because all he had to do to take your life was touch you. His friendly, almost jolly personality was the ultimate weapon because it allowed him to get close enough to touch. Before you even knew what was happening, you were dead and G.R. claimed your body for his closet, your soul (for God only knew what), and then handed out your money or your abilities to his Escorts.