He coughs again. “Sassy?”
Happy tears blur my vision. “Yes, baby, I’ve got you.”
He struggles to keep his eyes open. “What happened?”
I brush my hand through his hair. “You fell again.”
“Oh.”
“Do you think you can get up?” I search the hall for anyone approaching. “We really need to get out of here.”
His eyes close again, and he mumbles, “No. Sleepy.”
I lift his shoulders, hoping he’ll sit up. “No, Dax. You can’t sleep right now. We’ve gotta go.”
His shoulders slump in my arms, and when his head bobs, I lower him in defeat.
Not again. I refuse to sit here and accept this.
I hoist Dax from under his arms and drag him across the floor. Somehow, I need to get to the Porsche. Searching for strength I don’t have, we curve around the hallway, and I spy a screen door ahead.
My heart palpitates.
There’s a screen door at the front of the clubhouse.
With his back resting against my front, I hug my arms around him, pulling him through the doorway. As I puff out my exhaustion, three sheriff’s vehicles zoom down the road, sirens blaring. They stop in front of the clubhouse, encircling the Porsche. Blasted with shock, I lean against the doorframe, cradling Dax in my arms.
Officers race from their vehicles and approach the property.
Anticipation ricochets through my veins. “Help! He needs a doctor.”
An officer reaches for me, and I recoil. “Don’t touch me! Help him. He doesn’t have time to waste.”
The officer pivots and lowers to check Dax. While pressing two fingers against Dax’s neck, he uses his radio, asking for a medical team to arrive.
Relieved, I hold on to Dax. “Thank you.”
“We’ll take him from here,” the officer says. “You need to get back to your parents.”
My arms don’t budge. “I’m not leaving him. I’ll go to the hospital with him.”
“We need to get you to safety.”
“And I need to stay with him.”
The officer relents. As other uniformed officers swarm the clubhouse, a second officer helps get Dax out of the doorway.
As the officers enter through the side of the clubhouse, Lance and the other men shout at the invaders.
“Everyone down on the ground!” Sheriff Lennon’s voice booms from inside the clubhouse. “You’re all under arrest!”
As two officers prop Dax against the exterior wall, he groans sleepily.
The second officer taps Dax’s shoulder. “Are you awake, son? Can you hear me?”
Dax murmurs, and his eyes struggle to open.
I swoop an arm around his shoulders. “Dax? Dax, wake up.”
