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“You really think I’m going to just sit here nice and safe on the off chance this guy tries something while my dad could be d-dead or dying?” Her words stuttered out and the harsh lines of Blake’s face softened as he scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I’m not asking for your permission. I’m going to the hospital to see my dad and the longer we argue about this, the less time…” She couldn’t finish the words aloud, but Blake seemed to understand them anyway.The less time my dad might have left.
“Fine,” he said and reached for his jacket, “but I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t need to–”
“I do,” he said firmly, and she didn’t waste any more time arguing as she grabbed a pair of boots Cara and Katie had picked out for her and slipped them on roughly. If it weren’t for the reporters… Hell, if it weren’t for the damned stalker, this never would have happened.
A cold feeling started in her fingertips and stopped only when Blake grabbed a hold of her hands and crouched down to peer into her eyes. “This isn’t your fault, and we don’t have time for you to panic. Be mad now and then you can freak out later if you need to, okay? Stevie and one of my other guys are going to escort us to the hospital, and I’ve called Jones too. He’s going to set a perimeter at the hospital in case this guy tries to get to you there.”
She nodded woodenly and allowed him to pull her up from the floor and towards the door. A sea of reporters and cameras waited beyond the gate and they immediately started hurling questions at them as soon as they were in sight.
Rose ignored them for now. But later there was going to be one hell of a reckoning.
Stevie climbed into their car with them and gave her a polite but sympathetic smile in the rearview mirror that she tried her best to return as Blake murmured that they also had another of his guys who was going to be tailing them for security purposes. It all felt overkill. Maybe this guy had lost interest, maybe he hadn’t seen the news. She hadn’t ever had armed security following her about before and it felt ridiculous, but Blake was clearly used to it.
The gates opened for them and Rose fought the wave of rage inside her when she spotted the reporter from the TV still stood outside. The urge to roll down the window and rip the woman to shreds was strong but she refrained. After all, that woman wasn’t in charge. What they really needed to know was where the news station had got that tip from.
It would probably only take them twenty-five minutes to get to the hospital, maybe more if the traffic was bad, and every second felt like it was slipping through her fingers too fast as she tried to hold on.
“He’s going to be fine,” Blake said. At some point he’d taken hold of her hand in his again and she hadn’t even noticed as she numbly watched out of her tinted window.
“You don’t know that.” Her lips felt numb, and she swallowed painfully as the car seemed to move like it was going through toffee.
“I do know that,” Blake said fiercely enough that her eyes found his and held for a moment. “He’s strong, just like you, and healthy. Whatever this is, they’ll help him. It’s not too late.”
Was this one of the stages of grief? Denial? She supposed that Graham DuLoe had been something of a father-figure to Blake after his own dad had passed. It felt like she’d skipped right over denial, sped through anger, and had now settled somewhere colder than acceptance, somewhere that speared ice through her bones until her teeth wanted to chatter, but instead, she bit her lip until she almost drew blood.
Rose turned back to the window as they took the turn that would lead them toThe Christhospital, one of the best in the US.He’s going to be fine,she tried to tell herself.Everything is going to be fine.
That was when she noticed the car. Silver, bulky, like it could take on a trucker and maybe win. It was relatively inconspicuous except for the fact that it was barreling towards them with no sign of brake lights.
“Blake!”
He turned his head and Rose watched his eyes widen, heard Stevie’s yell of fear, and then glass flew as the car hit, rattling her teeth in her skull. The initial jolt made her gasp and the screech of metal made her ears vibrate painfully until all she could hear was tires scrambling for traction as Stevie braked, and the thump as their car flipped and all her blood rushed to her face.
For a second everything fell silent, and then her eyes fluttered and the sounds of shouts and horns beeping came back to her. Glass crunched by her ear and a pair of thick black boots, professionally knotted and tucked into black cargo pants, walked away from her as she tried to make her voice work.
There was glass in her hair. She could feel it pinching when she tried to look around for Blake, for someone to help, but she froze when moving her neck made her head pound, and nausea kicked up so badly she thought she might throw up then and there. The glass made a pretty tinkle as it hit the roof of the car when it fell out of her hair and clothes, and her face stung with what had to be a dozen cuts from the spray of glass when the windows had shattered, and all she could think about was that they weren’t supposed to do that. It was safety glass, meant to crack but not shatter, so the fact that it had… How fast had that driver been going?
Hands finally reached in and she nearly cried with relief. She couldn’t feel her seatbelt button with her fingertips and didn’t know if that meant something was very wrong or if she simply couldn’t find it. Hands pulled her free from the wreckage easily, and the kind face of a paramedic met her as he shone a light in her eyes.
“How do you feel?”
“Where’s Blake?”
“They’re getting him out now, okay? I need you to tell me what hurts.”
“Everything,” she slurred, and he cursed when her eyes rolled in their sockets.
“Okay, stay awake now for me. What’s your name?”
She pried her heavy lids up and her heart seemed to beat quicker and slower at the same time when she finally caught a glimpse of Blake’s body being pulled from the car. A tear blurred her vision, unable to fall because of how she lay on her back, and all she could do was grip the paramedic’s arm for a moment until his colleague sent a thumbs up. Alive.
“Your friends are okay,” he said and relief made her head loll. “What’s your name?”
“Princess,” she murmured, confusion making her brain swim and her hands shake as she tried to lift them again. “David.”
“Concussion,” she thought she heard him say, and then the last of her adrenaline slipped away as the world faded.
