Saddle up

Chapter Thirty-Seven : Miracles

Brant's POV

It didn't take me long to get Chase out of the mess he'd gotten himself into. After a brief chat, I hit the road, my mind already miles away, heading back home, heading back to Jess.

I couldn't help but smile to myself as the images of her in that sundress flooded my mind—half-drunk on wine, waiting for me on the table. The thought of it made me push the pedal to the floor, rushing to get back to her.

But when I rounded the bend and saw the unmistakable, beat-up pickup parked in front of the office, my heart dropped straight into my stomach.

It was Cole's truck.

My blood ran cold, and I couldn't stop my foot from slamming the gas pedal down harder. The truck screeched as I tore up the driveway and toward the barn. Gravel flew everywhere in my wake. I must've been going so fast that Chase saw me haul ass down the road, because instead of continuing on toward his place, I saw his truck turn in behind me, following my frantic pace.

A million thoughts rushed through my head—most of them worse than the last, each one more suffocating than the next. I couldn't think straight, but I knew I had to get to that office. To Jess.

We parked our trucks side by side, and before Chase even had the chance to say a word, I was out of my truck, sprinting toward the door.

I threw it open, my heart hammering in my chest, and then my world shattered.

Jess—she was on the floor. Lifeless. And Cole, that son of a bitch, was right on top of her, his hands wrapped around her throat.

My body went numb. My vision blurred, and the blood roared in my ears as I felt the red-hot surge of anger build inside me. I barely registered Chase's voice, calling my name, trying to get my attention. But nothing mattered more than getting that bastard off of Jess.

The distance between us felt like miles, but I was there in a heartbeat, grabbing Cole by the collar and shoulder and yanking him off her with every ounce of strength I had.

The sound of his body crashing to the floor was satisfying, but it didn't stop the rage. Not nearly enough.

I barely even heard Chase yelling my name, his voice a distant echo. All I could focus on was Cole—beating him senseless. He deserved everything that was coming to him.

But then something cut through my haze. It was Chase's voice—frantic, desperate.

"Brant, she's not breathing, man. HELP ME!"

My heart stopped. I didn't even hesitate before scrambling over Cole's bloodied body to reach Jess. I checked her pulse. Nothing. No heartbeat. No breath. My whole body froze in disbelief.

This couldn't be real. Not again.

Chase was already on the phone with 911, his voice shaking, doing chest compressions, but all I could do was watch—numb, helpless.

Flashes of Kelsey's accident tore through my mind, the overwhelming sense of helplessness crashing over me again.

"Brant! Help me! She needs you right now, man! Please!"

I could hear the dispatcher's voice on the other end of Chase's phone, but I couldn't focus on anything but Jess. I had to get her back. I had to—

"911, do you need fire, police, or ambulance?"

"Yes, ma'am! I need an ambulance and police, please! I've got a 19-year-old female, she's not breathing! We need help, fast!"

"Okay, Sir, I'm going to give you instructions on how to perform CPR until an ambulance arrives, okay?"