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“Ummmm?” she murmured.
“Hey, come on, wake up. You’ve been in an accident, and I need you to tell me where it hurts,” Rooster ordered louder.
“I’ll kiss your ouchies better once I’ve convinced you to be my husband,” the woman slurred.
Rooster blinked, and a smile crossed his face despite of the urgency of the situation. The injured lady sang the chorus of a well-known country song before blinking her eyes open.
“Wow, I’ve gone to heaven,” she murmured, staring at Rooster.
“Not yet, but we need to get you out of the car before it catches fire. Does your neck hurt? Or your back?”
“You can set me on fire anytime, baby,” she said, her eyes closing.
Deciding she had a knock on the head, Rooster concentrated on checking her neck again before he cut the seatbelt. She dropped into his arms, and he gently pulled her out.
Rooster did not get far. Her foot was jammed in the footwell, and he laid her down as a whoosh sounded from the engine. Rooster didn’t need to check to guess the car had caught fire.
Unhurriedly, he worked her foot free as the womanblinked and cried out.
“You’re on fire!”
“Not quite, lady, but I will be if you don’t stop wriggling… there!” Rooster grunted.
Her foot looked twisted, and he was sure it was broken, but she was alive.
Rooster stumbled to his feet, experiencing a pinch in his prosthetic, but he ignored it and slid his hands under her armpits and began hauling her away. If he’d been more confident, Rooster might have carried her, but the slope was steep and slippery, and he wasn’t sure how his false leg would hold up. Instead, Rooster worked his way up carefully, pulling her while keeping an eye on the burning car.
“God, you’re so hot; you are making me burn,” the woman drawled and sent him a sloppy smile.
“Yeah, be nice to the cripple day,” Rooster muttered.
The poor woman didn’t know it, but her words stung. If she saw his amputation, no doubt she would do one of three things, a pity fuck, disgust, or she’d be kind and make excuses to leave. Those had all happened to him. A fourth, which others had spoken about at his physiotherapy clinic, Rooster hadn’t encountered yet. Those with a kink for amputees. Rooster seriously hoped he’d never come across one of those.
“Cripple? Ain’t no cripple honey, you’re all man,” she slurred, and Rooster looked down at her worriedly.
They’d reached the top of the embankment andwere safely on the road, but her voice was getting faint. Now that she was safe, he checked her head wound. It was deep and pouring blood freely.
An explosion behind him made him drag her into his body, and he covered her with his. For a moment, his mind blanked, and he was back in the hell which had cost him his leg, dignity, and life. Rooster tensed as he waited for burning chunks of concrete to hit the ground around him, and he clutched the figure in his arms tightly to his chest.
“Stay with me, Rooster,” the woman said, and her words shocked Rooster enough that he came out of his nightmare.
To his surprise, her eyes looked remarkably clear for a brief moment. “Call Mac at Rage; tell him I’ve had an accident,” she demanded before she fell unconscious.
“Mac?” Rooster exclaimed. “Who the hell are you?”
Rooster peered at her car, which was in flames, and cursed. Her purse was in there with her identification.
An ambulance wailed its way up the road to him, the smoke no doubt making them speed up.
Rooster coughed. The acrid taste of burning metal filled his mouth, and he choked on it.
The memories fought to take over, and Rooster shoved them away desperately, concentrating on the woman in his arms. One who had links to Rage MC.
???
Rooster looked up as Mac dashed into the hospital. He spotted Rooster and hurried over.
“A black BMW with an African American woman in?” Mac demanded, stumbling over his words in his haste to get them out.
