Page 78 of Protecting Peyton

His eyes didn’t open.

Zane

I was being bumpedwhen I woke up again. My arms were tied down. I was strapped to a gurney. Then I saw the inside of an ambulance. I had a foggy memory of lying on the ground, looking up at Peyton, with the sun backlighting her hair the way it had that first morning I’d called her Angel.

Blinking my eyes open, the first thing I saw was Peyton’s smile.

“You’re going to be okay.” She squeezed my hand.

“I’m fine, Angel.” I had a splitting headache, but I’d been hit worse than this before. I tried to sit up. The straps didn’t allow that.

“Don’t try to move,” the young paramedic said.

“Listen to her.” The voice was familiar.

I turned my head. Those words had come from the bossman, Lucas. Damn, it was crowded in here.

“You two have to get out,” the paramedic said.

“I’m his bodyguard,” my angel said. “He got hurt. That’s not happening again. Where he goes, I go.” She waved a gun—my gun.

“We have rules,” the paramedic argued.

“I’m her backup,” Lucas said. “We need to leave right now. You do not want to see either of us angry.”

The paramedic gave up. “You heard the man, Harry. Let’s go.”

After a minute, the driver spoke. “We’re fourteen minutes out to Centinela.”

“No. We’re going to UCLA,” Lucas demanded.

“Can’t. That’s out of our area,” the driver argued.

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” Lucas swore in that tone that made grown men lose their shit. “Either you drive us to UCLA, or get the hell out and I’ll do the driving.”

“But,” the driver argued.

“I’d do what he wants,” Peyton said. “Or you’ll be the one needing medical care.”

“He’s stable enough,” the paramedic assured the driver.

“Okay, already,” the driver relented. “UCLA here we come.” He laid on the horn and turned left.

It sucked being rolledinto the damned hospital on a gurney when I could and should be walking under my own power. I heard Peyton mention Dr. Holland.

As soon as Lucas invoked Bill Covington’s name, two nurses and a doctor wheeled me right to the CAT-scan room, no waiting.

I’d never had anything at a hospital happen this fast.

“Stay absolutely still,” the technician kept saying as the machine thumped around me.

With my head cradled on both sides by foam of some sort, what the hell else was I going to do? I closed my eyes, and when the noise stopped, sleep came quickly.

I wincedwhen a bright light hit my eye.

When she moved the flashlight away, I made out the same doctor who’d checked out Peyton two days ago.Dr. Holland, I remembered.

“So she had so much fun banging her head, you thought you’d try it?” the doctor asked.