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“Are you ok?” He helped me to my feet, holding me steady when I was upright again. “Are you hurt? Shit, look at your face.”
“I’m ok. Areyouok?” I looked him up and down, but he seemed fine.
“Yeah.” When he pulled his hand away from my left arm, it came back wet with blood. “Fuck. You’re bleeding.”
I looked down at my bicep. Sure enough there was a hole in the middle of my sleeve. Now that I’d stopped running, blood dripped off of my fingers. “Well, shit.” Guess it wasn’t a heart attack after all.
Suddenly remembering the other driver, the cop darted around the white car and swore loudly. He dropped to his knees, chattering into his radio at warp speed in a language of numbers and cop talk.
The other driver was sprawled out on the pavement, one leg turned around, facing the opposite direction. His head had been cracked like an egg, brain matter and blood oozing around his mangled face.
I slid down the side of the squad, letting my head thump back against the door panel.
I made it. I actually made it out.
But now? Now it was time for the legal song and dance, which was the last thing I wanted to do. I was so fucking tired and all I wanted was Leander. And a shower. Dear God, I needed a shower.
23
Bennett
Iheard Leander before I ever saw him. I was pretty sure the entire hospital heard him. Whatever nurse was at the intake desk must have threatened to call the police, since he yelled some choice words back at her, ending with, “Ask me if I fucking care!”
Despite the bevy of staff telling him to stop, his footsteps never slowed. I’m sure the look on his face didn’t help. A variety of sneakers and Crocs went squeaking in opposite directions the closer he got.
“I don’t give a fuck about your goddamn policies! Get out of my way!”
He ripped the curtain open with the force of a tornado, his breathing short and ragged. Working his jaw from side to side in what looked like an effort to regain control after losing his shit on the nursing staff, he froze where he was, his green eyes wild.
“My love.” I held a hand out to him, a sense of relief washing over me for the first time in days.
He exhaled sharply, silent tears spilling down his cheeks as he grasped my hand and pulled me into his chest so tightly I actually winced. As much as I cherished breathing, I wasn’t about to tell him to let go.
Once his own breathing calmed down, he took my face between his hands and tipped my head back. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with red. Meanwhile, the hollows beneath them were so dark he looked more dead than alive. Between the obvious exhaustion and I’m sure a lack of eating, it was a miracle he was even still standing.
“I thought you were gone,” he said quietly.
Again. He may not have said it, but my mind supplied the painful reminder.
“I told you, I’m not easy to kill.” I was not in a jovial mood in the slightest, but it was better than breaking down into a blubbering mess. One of us had to keep it together and since he already had at least one meltdown today, I figured it was my turn to be the stoic.
He kissed me once, hard and possessively, before pulling me against him again, his arms tight around my neck. “I’ve been out of my mind without you. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you for good.”
“I’m so sorry…”
Jerking back, he cradled my face again, fresh tears in his eyes. “Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“What are you talking about? Who were they?” His head tilted to the side as he studied my face.
“I don’t know,” I replied with a small, helpless shrug. “I’ve never seen them before in my life.”
“What did they want?”
“You.” I grimaced, my hands tightening around his arms.
He blinked, his brows furrowing. “Me? Are you sure?”
