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He slipped and slid down the embankment, pain shooting through his bad leg with every jolt. Griff straightened as he reached the bottom where the SUV lay, its wheels in the air, smoke pouring from its engine. The acrid scent of gasoline filled the air. He had to get the driver out. Quickly. If the SUV caught fire…
His gut clenched, and an image of the Black Hawk engulfed in flames nearly sent him to his knees.
The top of the SUV was caved in several inches, the driver’s side window shattered. When he shined the flashlight at the window, the broken shards reflected the light, making it impossible for him to see inside.
“Hey, are you okay?” he called out. He held his breath, praying the driver had survived.
A woman’s voice sounded. “I think so. I’m just hanging upside down by my seatbelt. The buckle won’t release, and I can’t find my quick release tool.”
“Cover your eyes. I’ll clear the glass.”
He gave her a moment to shield her face and then used the other end of his flashlight to knock away the broken shards of the driver’s door window. Once he’d cleared all the glass, he shined his light in through the open window.
The woman hung from her seatbelt, her long dark hair blocking his view of her face as she fumbled with the buckle.
“It’s stuck,” she said, her voice strained.
“Hold onto something. I’ll cut it with my knife. But be ready. As soon as I do, you’ll fall.”
“The sooner, the better,” she murmured. “The shoulder strap is digging into me. It tightened so much upon impact, I can barely breathe.”
He dropped to his knees, wincing at the pressure on his bad leg. He propped the flashlight against the doorframe, aiming up at her. What he could see of her face through the veil of hair was covered in blood. Once he was in position, he said, “Hanging in there?”
She snorted. “I’ve got nowhere else to go.” She braced her hands against the upside-down roof of the SUV. “I don’t have much to hold onto.”
“I’ll lean into you to ease your descent.” Griff pulled his pocketknife from his jeans pocket, opened it and pushed his broad shoulders into the opening.
Dark hair dangled into his face. He shoved it aside and slipped the knife’s blade beneath the shoulder strap, careful not to poke it into her breast.
“On three,” he said. “One…two…three.” He sliced through the belt with his razor-sharp knife blade.
She held her upper body steady, the belt across her hips keeping her from falling.
He leaned his shoulder into her and sliced at the belt across her lap.
Freed of constraint, her body crashed down on Griff’s shoulder, the pain reminding him of his own previous injuries. He dropped the knife out of the way to avoid stabbing her and eased from beneath her and out of the SUV, allowing her to slip down to the roof of the vehicle below her. Once she was still, he reached inside and gripped her beneath her arms. “Can you wrap your arms around my neck?”
“I think so.” She worked her arms out from beneath her, wrapped them around his neck and held on.
He pulled her free of the SUV, knocking the flashlight over in the process. Still on a steep slope, he couldn’t push to his feet. Instead, he leaned back, dragging her out and across his body.
“Are you all the way out?” he asked, her breasts pressed to his chest, her hair hanging in his face. The darkness made it nearly impossible to see what was going on.
She moved her legs. “Yes. I’m out.”
“Are you injured—arms, legs, internal, anything that you can tell?” he asked before he tried to move her any further.
“Just where the shoulder strap bruised me, and I think I hit my head on the steering wheel.”
“Okay. I’m going to roll you onto your side. Don’t try to jump up. With a head injury, you might get dizzy, fall and compound your injuries.”
“Okay. But we should move quickly. I smell gas and smoke.”
“On three,” he said.
She tightened her hold around his neck. “Just roll.”
He did until they both lay on their sides. The stars had yet to fill the sky with enough light to illuminate the crash scene. Her face was a pale blur with streaks of drying blood marring her features.
