Bright, white light slipped painfully through my closed eyelids. I blinked them open, but somewhere above me, glaring lights beat down against them, blinding me.

Where was I?

I tried to lift my head and felt a pull across my face, just under my nose. It felt as if a piece of tape was stuck on my upper lip. I felt the same sensation on my hands as well. I reached up to try to pull the tape off; both my hands felt strange, heavy.

My fingers touched something foreign before I could find my face. What was on my face? I traced the smooth object with the tips of my fingers, and panic set in. There were tubes all over me. Stuck to my face. I needed to rip them off. Where were my kids? Where was I? What the hell was happening?

“Dylan?” The sound of an angel’s voice called out my name. “Dylan, no. Don’t tug on that,” the voice said sternly as a warm hand covered mine.

Once again, I tried to squint my eyes open. My temples throbbed with the effort. I was lying in an unfamiliar bed—it had rails on each side and heavy white blankets—it made my entire body achy and sore.

"Where?" my voice croaked. My throat was dry, and I had the worst case of cotton mouth ever; my mouth tasted like it was coated in shit.

“You’re in the hospital, but you’re okay.”

Hospital? What the hell?

The warm hand gently pulled my hand off the tubes. “Callie?” I asked – no, I prayed. I prayed she was the voice of the angel. If Callie was here, that meant my children were safe and I had someone to rely on.

“Yeah, Dylan. It’s me.” Her warm fingers traced the skin on my arm, sending shivers over my body.

“Addi? Ben? What happened?”

My thoughts were muddled, confused. I remembered a fight somewhere. I remembered Addison screaming for me. My mind raced to figure out how it all led me to where I was. I just couldn't see what happened clearly.

“The kids are fine. They’re safe,” she whispered, giving my arm a small squeeze. “Do you remember anything?”

Finally, her face became more focused on me. Her skin was too pale, her eyes swollen and ringed red. I tried to lift my head again, attempted to move closer to her and find out what was wrong, but my head spun and nausea washed over me. A cold sweat sprouted across my forehead.

“What happened? Callie, are you okay?”

A stab of fear clenched deep in my stomach.

I swear to God, if anyone hurt her or caused her any pain…

A smile pulled up at one corner of her lips. "You're the one in the hospital bed, and you're asking me if I'm okay?"

She shook her head and touched her hand to my cheek. The touch filled my heart with something I hadn't felt in years: hope. Hope and love. Whatever love she would accept from me, I wanted to give her until she could one day love me back. I could love this woman enough for both of us. I could love her for the rest of my life. My kids loved her. I wanted her, needed her. It was over between Sheri and me…

The image of Sheri in my house stopped my thoughts cold. Sheri had come home. I remembered now. She came back for some of her things she said. She brought a friend. Some guy she was messing with. Some guy who tried to…he tried to kill me.

“Sheri came home. She was high,” I said through the haze of memories that were flooding my brain.

There was blood everywhere. He hit me with a wrench. Addison was screaming for them to stop. I remembered blocking her from them. I remembered the crunch of his arm when I broke it. I remembered Sheri's face, her uncaring face when our daughter screamed for her.

Callie gently pushed me back. "Lay back. You shouldn't move too much." She sighed, and tears glazed in her eyes. "Sheri came back high, yes. She had a friend with her, and they attacked you."

“Yeah. My wrench, right?”

She stilled, eyes fixed on mine. She didn't want to tell me, did she? Did she think I'd be embarrassed that I got my ass handed to me? I wasn't. He used my damn wrench, and I knew I broke his arm. I knew there was blood all over, and it wasn't just mine.

“You were stabbed. Multiple times with a pair of needle nose pliers.”

“What the fuck?” I looked down over my body, hidden under the hospital sheets. Was I stabbed? “No. No, he hit me with the wrench. I would know if I was stabbed.”

“Dylan, you don’t remember because you lost a lot of blood. You almost bled out in the ambulance. You…you almost died. He tried to kill you.”

“How bad? What? My head’s foggy. I don’t understand. He just hit me with the wrench.”

“You needed blood. You lost a lot. We all gave you some. But Dylan, yeah…he stabbed you. He stabbed you a few times.”

“Addison? Addison saw it all?”

She looked away from me and wiped at her tears. "She remembers them pushing you. I'm not sure she understands what happened." She looked back quickly at me, eyes wide. "But I had her talk to someone. Someone who deals with children who lived through a trauma. I don't want this to mess her up.”

I laid my head back on the pillow—it felt cumbersome—too heavy for my neck to keep holding up. “What’s going to happen next? With Sheri and—" I vaguely remembered Sheri telling me his name, but I couldn't recall what it was. "Whoever her little punk-ass friend was."

“His name is Gerard Wright.” Her voice was soft, comforting. “And they were both arrested on various charges, one being attempted murder.”

Irrationally, hearing it didn’t seem to faze me. I didn’t feel anything. An image of Sheri laughing at me with blood smeared all over her shirt flashed through my mind—and Addison being dragged along the floor as she tried to stop her mother from hurting me.

“I’m so sorry, Dylan.” Callie’s tone was dark, full of regret.

“Sorry?” I asked, stunned. I wanted so badly to be able to move toward her, hold her in my arms, and reassure her I—we were okay. “Of all the things I want you to feel right now, sorry isn’t one of them.” I reached out my hand to touch her face, only to be held back by the IV tubing.

She stared at me, confusion pulling her brows together. "How am I supposed to feel? How do you want me to feel right now? You're my friend, and you were brutally attacked by someone you—“

“Don’t say it,” I interrupted venomously. “I didn’t love her any longer. You knew that. And I think we can both agree we are way past being friends. At least I have been. For so long now, I've been holding back with you." I tried to turn my body and angle it more toward her, but I got nowhere fast. "Ugh. Honestly, all I want to do is kiss you, just touch you right now, and I freaking can't!"

Callie leaned in quickly, touching her lips to the corner of mine. "Please stay still," she whispered against my cheek.

Somewhere next to us, the beeping of one of the monitors sped up, and I smiled to myself, knowing this woman did things to my heart I’d never felt before and I couldn’t wait to get out of this bed and get into hers.

“We’ll talk when you’re out of here, okay?” She pulled back slowly, her cheeks bright red and her eyes shiny.

“Callie?” I asked, wondering what she was thinking. What was there to talk about? We’ve done enough talking already. I just needed her; all of her.

A single tear streamed down her face. I didn’t want to see her cry.

"Callie, please don't cry," I whispered, again struggling to pull myself up. My side ached, and my body spiraled with pain, but I didn't care. "Why cry? You know how we feel about each other—”

More tears came. “I just don’t want to mess this up, Dylan. I’m broken. In pieces, Dylan. You shouldn’t want me. I can’t give you anything you need.”

“What I need? You are everything I need, Callie Ward. I need honesty, your love, your time,” I said, feeling my own eyes well up with tears. “I need your sobriety. Your body, your heart. I have everything else. All I need is you.”

Out in the hallway, I could hear my daughter's voice. I wanted to say so much more to Callie, but it wasn't the right time, and probably not the right place.

"We'll talk about this when I get out of here, okay?" I whispered quickly. "Just promise me, promise me, Callie, you will give us a chance."

“Us?” she asked low.

“Yeah, us. I come as a package deal, remember?” I smiled...well, half-smiled—half-winced in pain.

She blinked at me and touched her hand to her heart.

Then, in the doorway was Sergeant Max Kannon and my Addison. "Daddy!" she yelled, running in. "You're not sleeping!” She raced to the guardrails of the bed and began climbing over them earnestly.

"Whoa there, little monkey," Callie said, scooping her up. "How about I lower one of these rails, and you carefully cuddle up with Daddy."

“Are you hurt bad, Daddy?” Addison looked up at me with concern.

I looked at her, then at Callie. "No, not anymore, Babycakes, not anymore.”

Addison’s smile spread from ear to ear. “Did Callie tell you I didn’t let the bad man get Ben?” She glanced over at Callie and gave her a thumbs up.

I cringed and squeezed my eyes closed, just wondering what that could have meant.

Callie shook her head slowly as she pulled the guardrail down. “Maybe that’s a story for another day when your Daddy feels better.” Her face became paler, almost having a green hue to it. Whatever happened must have scared the hell out of Callie.

“What did you do?” I asked, looking down at Addison, who was climbing up onto the bed cautiously and snuggling under the blankets with me.

Her big blue eyes bore into mine. “I hid him!”

She hid him?

Callie cleared her throat and laid a hand over mine. "Addison heard the yelling, and she got scared. She took Ben into the neighbor's yard and hid him in the back yard playhouse."

“Why didn’t you just get Callie?”

"You told me not to cross the street, 'member, silly?" she said.

“But,” Callie cut in, “Addison and I have a plan now if things go wrong. We even practiced it a few times.”

“Dwills,” Addison said, giggling.

"Yes, we practiced the drills." Callie looked at me, her face still blanched and her eyes still raw from crying. "I couldn't find him," she cried, "and when I did, he was so cold." She sniffled and coughed. "But he was fine. Addison told us where he was in time."

“He was outside in the cold? For a while?” I asked.

She nodded her head. “And so, since you’ve been in the hospital for a few days, we’ve had the chance to practice what to do in emergencies. Any emergencies.”

“Firefighters came over, Daddy! I stopped, dropped, and rolled!”

I looked down at my daughter as she smiled up at me proudly. Addison was going to be fine after this, and she was going to be fine all because she had someone like Callie in her life. Someone who cared for her and loved her.

“You love Callie, don’t you, Addison?”

“Yep! She’s my bestest friend in the whole world!”

Color came back to Callie's cheeks, and a small gasp escaped from her lips when I agreed. "I love her, too, Addison. I really do."