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“Let me take a look,” I gently say.
“I’m okay,” she bravely replies, still cradling her wounded hand against her chest.
“Please?” I plead, softly wrapping my fingers around her wrist, coaxing her to let me see.
Thankfully, she complies and lowers her hand, making a pained face at the movement.
“Can you make a fist?” I ask, lightly placing my hand around hers and feeling for any breaks.
She does so but whimpers in pain and tries to pull back. I have a firm grip on her, however, and don’t let go. I finish my examination and conclude, “It’s not broken, but it’s definitely sprained. Let’s get you home so you can ice it.”
“You’re bleeding,” she gasps, reaching out and touching my lip with her finger.
Her kind sentiment warms my heart, but I pull out of her touch because I want to get her hand iced before it swells.
“I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. Let’s just get you home, okay?”
Madison nods. I look over her shoulder at Tim, who is slumped to the floor, too winded to move.
“Nice right hook,” I say, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and leading her in the direction of my car.
“Thanks,” she replies, trying to appear calm, but her tiny tremors reveal just how shaken up she is.
I bundle her closer into my side, and when she comes willingly, my body sings at the feeling of being needed by her.
As I feel the first sprinkles of rain paint my cheeks, I curse this atrocious weather. However, without warning, the sky suddenlyopens up and dumps a torrential downpour in seconds. Madison shrieks while I latch on tighter and quicken our step as we’re about to drown.
“How far is it?” Madison yells to be heard over the rain, her face turned into my side.
“Three blocks,” I reply, my boots squishing with every step I take.
Madison suddenly places a hand on my bicep and when she squeezes tightly, I stop abruptly, wondering what she’s doing. She quickly reaches down and clumsily slips off her heels, dropping about five inches instantly. She looks up at me, looking like a drowned rat, but she smiles and nods, and then we commence a sprint to my car.
By the time we reach my BMW, we are completely saturated, but all I can focus on is getting Madison inside and out of the rain. I practically shove her into the passenger seat when I unlock the door and then make a mad dash for the driver’s side, slamming the door shut as I leap in.
The moment the engine purrs to life, I reach down and switch on the heating. I can hear Madison’s teeth chattering. I glance over and see her damp clothes sticking to her body.
“Damn this weather,” I bark, brushing back my wet hair so I can see the congested road.
Just as I’m about to take off, Madison curses. “Shit.”
Looking over, I ask, “What’s the matter?”
She curses again and frantically looks around, lifting her ass off the seat and looking beneath her.
“Darn it, I’ve lost my bag,” she says with a small hiccup, and it’s only now that I’m not livid and can see relatively clearly that I notice she appears a little glassy-eyed.
“Do you remember when you had it last?” I ask, and she shakes her head, her wet hair sticking to her long neck.
Looking out through the windshield, I see the rain has picked up to biblical proportions, but I unbuckle my seat belt, ready to brace the downpour. However, Madison clutches my forearm, stopping my retreat.
“You can’t go out there. It’s pouring, and thisisNew York. It’s probably already found a new home,” she explains, looking out the window.
“But what about your belongings?”
“It’s okay. I didn’t have much on me. Just my key, some cash, lip balm, and gum,” she states, and then she unexpectedly hiccups once again.
She appears mortified and quickly covers her mouth.
