Page 154 of Broken Saint

I freeze as Colt drops to the ground, the ball falling from his almost catch. But it’s too late for the linebacker to stop himself, and he plummets to the ground right alongside Colt.

Although, he almost instantly gets back up.

Colt, however, is still lying there just shy of the twenty-five-yard line.

The Chiefs take control of the ball, but I don’t pay any attention to what happens, my eyes locked on my man.

“Get up, Colt,” I beg quietly. “Please.”

Letty’s arm wraps around my shoulder as Peyton’s hand slips into mine.

They know how I feel right now. They’ve lived through this a million times.

But as the seconds pass, Colt still doesn’t move.

A whistle blows, bringing play to a stop as players and staff run onto the field to tend to him.

Ice floods my veins as the excitement of the crowd lessens, concern growing in its place.

“What’s happening?” I choke through the lump in my throat, my eyes burning with tears.

We can’t see anything.

There’s a human shield between me and Colt, and I hate it.

“I need to get down there. I need?—”

My words fade off as I fight through the people in our row all focused on the field with worry etched into their expressions.

“Ella, wait,” Letty cries, but she’s too late.

The second I’m free, I race down the few stairs toward the barrier that keeps us from the field.

“COLTON,” I scream, racing around the fencing, desperately searching for a way through it.

I spot a gap, my legs pumping harder.

There are two security guards keeping the crowd from flooding onto the field, but I don’t so much as slow as I fly toward them.

Their hands lift to stop me, but there is no chance of them doing that. Not when he needs me.

“COLTON,” I scream again, tears flooding my cheeks as I dart between the two imposing men.

“Miss, you can’t?—”

I’ve no idea if they know who I am or what, but they do not fight as hard as I’m sure they should to keep me out.

I look up just in time to see an ambulance appear on the edge of the field and paramedics race toward the players who are shielding the crowd from what is happening.

“NO. No, please,” I sob to no one.

Movement to my right catches my eye, and when I glance over, I find Brax racing toward me.

He gathers me up in his arms, stopping me from seeing what’s happening.

“Tell me he’s okay,” I beg.

One look into his eyes and I don’t get the answer I crave.