Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 910(@200wpm)___ 728(@250wpm)___ 607(@300wpm)
My breaths starting to come a little quicker, I licked my lips. “I need to get out,” I said, clumsily fumbling with the seatbelt. I didn’t want to be in here. Didn’t want to remember the last time I was stuck in a car.
His brows pulled together. “I don’t think it’s good for you to move until—”
“I’m getting out.”
He raised both hands. “Okay, let me help you, then.” Gentle and careful, he unclipped my belt.
I snatched my purse, clinging to it as if it was a lifeline, and allowed him to help me slide out of the car. My knees buckled, the bastards.
Jenson steadied me. “Easy, now. That’s it.” He guided me over to a nearby bench. “Sit right here, you’re good.” He took the spot beside me. “We’ll just wait here for Dax, yeah?”
I got the feeling he’d been ordered to remain with me.
Right then, I noticed a car parked at a weird angle in the middle of the road, its front all bashed in, smoke hissing from the broken hood. The driver’s door was wide open, but there was no one inside.
I knew that vehicle, though. It belonged to Thaddeus’s parents. And I would just bet that little shithead had been drunk-driving again.
I clenched my teeth, furious. I couldn’t lie, the whole thing had shaken me up. But I was more mad than anything else. Mad that Thaddeus was such a selfish fuck.
I scanned the gathering crowd but saw no sign of him. Then I remembered Jenson’s words …
He’s gone. Ran like a coward.
Which meant the little shit stain likely wasn’t badly hurt. I wasn’t either, thankfully. Though, now that the adrenaline was beginning to recede, some pains were making themselves known. My temple pulsed and burned, and my chest hurt like it had been struck.
I didn’t think my single wound could be too bad—it seemed to have stopped bleeding already. I’d probably have to deal with a case of whiplash tomorrow, though. Awesome.
Jenson glared at the crowd creeping closer. “Give her some space, people.”
I regarded him for a few seconds. “I normally don’t like you.” But he’d come to my aid, he’d alerted Dax, he’d helped me out of the car, and he’d stayed with me—even if only because ordered.
His mouth bowed up. “I’ve noticed that, sweetheart.”
“You’re not really so bad.”
His face flushed slightly. “Thanks.”
I heard the zooming of a car engine. Heard said car screech to an abrupt halt. The voices quieted as the crowd parted, and there was Dax—his eyes stormy, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched.
Relief flared through me, making my eyes burn and my throat grow thick. I gave him a shaky smile. “Hey.”
He crouched in front of me, his jaw hardening at the gash on my temple. “Baby,” he murmured, his voice thick.
One hand palmed the back of my head while the other curved tight around my nape … and I felt like I could take my first real breath since before the crash.
Tension poured out of me. My muscles unclenched. A lightness filled my chest.
He was here now. Here and safe and solid and, oh fuck, I loved the son of a bitch.
I almost moaned in self-depreciation. Had I sensed it coming? Sure. But I’d hoped I was unnecessarily worrying that I’d grow to care that deeply for him. No, not “hoped,” I’d wanted it to be an unnecessary worry. Deep down, I’d known I was doomed to fall hard for this person who might never feel the same for me.
He studied the wound on my temple without touching it. “Where else are you hurt?”
“Nowhere, thankfully.”
Apparently not reassured, he took stock of me, patting me here and there.
“She’s got no other injuries that I can see,” Jenson told him.
Dax rudely didn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze clung to me, like I’d disappear if he looked away.
“I’m okay,” I assured him.
His nostrils flared, and he clamped his lips shut.
“Paramedics are on their way, they can check to be sure you’re good,” said Jenson.
Panic zipped through me. I was not going in an ambulance. Been there, done that, got the worst news ever when I did.
I grabbed Dax’s shirt. “I just want to go home. Can we go home?” Even I heard the wobble in my voice.
His face softened slightly. “Once they’ve taken a look at you, yes, we can go.”
∞∞∞
Standing before me a short while later, Dax held out a tumbler of whiskey. “Drink this.”
Settled on the sofa, I reached out and took it. “Thanks.”
To be honest, I’d have preferred a hug. But he hadn’t touched me since that moment he’d crouched in front of me while I’d sat on the bench.
He’d remained close while the paramedics cleaned and applied butterfly stitches to the cut on my head. He’d also remained close when cops appeared—minus Lowe—and asked me questions. But after that, he’d kept his distance.