The Keeper (Playing to Win #1)(65)

“Good. Then let’s get home so you can show me just how much.”

“Deal.” She gets in the car, and I close her door and round the front hood. When I look behind us, there’s a man in a sedan one house down. He’s sitting in the car with the headlights off, and something about it feels wrong.

I turn our car on and look in the rearview, but he doesn’t move.

Maybe I’m overreacting. But something just feels off.

“You buckled in, princess?”

Lindy looks at me funny. “Yeah, why?”

“I think that’s a paparazzi behind us. Just being careful.”

“Ugh, when are they going to stop following us? We’re boring.”

“You’re never boring, baby.”

I pull onto the street and watch to see if the sedan follows.

Thankfully, he doesn’t.

Nothing like overreacting.

Stupid fucking tabloids.

Once we pull through the intersection outside of Ashlyn’s neighborhood, a motorcycle flies up next to us—in the fucking snow—and the guy pulls out his camera.

“What the fuck?” Lindy gasps in shock.

“Ignore him. We’re fine,” I tell her, even though I don’t like how close this guy is getting to us.

We pull onto Main Street, and headlights flash behind us.

It looks like the sedan from Ashlyn’s neighborhood is back, and he’s coming toward us at a pretty high speed, considering the snow that’s already fallen tonight. “Is that fucker taking pictures too?” I shout, and Lindy turns to look, just as the motorcycle slides on the ice and veers in front of us.

I slam on my breaks to avoid hitting him, but it’s too late.

He runs into us at my front corner. The bike slides across the hood of our SUV, and the guy collides violently against our windshield, just as the sedan slams into us from behind, sending us spinning into mass chaos.

Metal crunches, and time stops as I realize I have no control over what’s happening.

“Baby.” I look over at Lindy as our car comes to a stop in the middle of the road, and she screams.

I turn my head and am blinded by the oncoming traffic. Headed right toward us.

In a last attempt, I throw my arm across Lindy, helpless to stop what’s happening. I hear a car lay on its horn and see it barreling down on us, trying to break. But I know he won’t be able to stop in time.

Glass shatters, and the impact feels like an explosion as the front of the SUV crumbles.

The airbags explode, and the last thing I hear is my wife’s scream before the silence is deafening.





EASTON





I wake up, disoriented and unsure of where I am before everything suddenly comes hurtling back to me.

The accident.

Lindy.

I bolt up and ignore the pain of whatever just ripped out of my skin. “Lindy,” I call out, and Juliette and Becket come into view. “Where’s Lindy. I need my wife.”

Jules runs a hand over my face. “You need to calm down, Easton. You just ripped out your IV.”

“Where’s my wife?” I ask again, frantic. “Lindy . . .” I yell.

Becks grabs my hand.

The one that’s not splinted.

What the fuck?

“We need you to calm down for a second and hear us, Easton. Take a breath.” Becks refuses to let go of me when I try to wrench free. “Breathe, kid. We need you to calm down for Lindy.”

His words break through to me.

“Why?” I look at him, fucking terrified. “Tell me she’s alive, Becks. I need her to be alive. She has to be alive.”

My eyes burn as tears I haven’t cried since my mom died gather in my eyes. “Please, Becket. Please tell me she’s alive.”

“She’s alive. She’s in surgery now,” he tells me, and I rip out what’s left of the tubes and needles attached to my body.

“Easton.” Juliette stands in front of me. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.”

A nurse runs in as a machine beeps from somewhere in the room.

I look around like a caged fucking animal.

“Mr. Hayes. You have to sit back down.” She turns away and calls out, “Someone get me help.”

“Get out of my way and take me to my wife.” I try to push past her, not giving a shit that she’s a woman. She’s keeping me from Lindy.

“You’re not going to help your wife if you hurt yourself, son. Sit down. Let me take care of you for ten minutes, and we’ll wheel you down to the private waiting room where the rest of your family is. I’m not going to keep you from her, but I’m not going to let you bleed all over the hospital either.” She grabs a bandage and puts pressure on my unsplinted arm where my IV ripped out.

I lean back against the bed as the room starts to spin.

“Sit down, Mr. Hayes.”

Becket moves around me and eases me down on the bed. “What’s happening, Becks? Why is she in surgery?”

Becket looks to the nurse, whose badge hangs from her pocket saying her name is Helen.

She answers for Becket, “Your wife has internal bleeding. They need to find the cause of the bleed and stop it.”

“You’ll take me to her?”

“Just let me fix you up first. Now sit there and don’t move. I’m going to get you some scrubs to put on.”