Page 85 of Puck Me, Baby

I squeezed him tighter, and he widened the gap between my legs and eased me onto him. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, clinging to him like a baby monkey does to its mother.

He stroked my back and spoke softly to me. Over and over until his voice was hoarse, he said, “You’re safe. Travis is safe. He’ll be okay. The doctors will fix him right up. We’ll get through this.”

The band around my chest finally loosened. My breathing slowed. My muscles unclenched, and the urge to squeeze into the tight gap under the bed faded.

“That’s it. You’re okay,” he murmured.

I pulled back, my cheeks hot and tears blurring my vision. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. I blinked, my tears falling down my cheeks. Then I looked at Carina and repeated my apology.

“Jacques, we need—”

“Yeah, I know,” he cut in. “Rusty, think you’ll be all right to get to the hospital?”

I nodded and forced myself out of the safety of Jacques’s embrace. The room swayed around me. Jacques helped me balance until I could steady myself.

“Let’s get our shoes on,” Carina prompted.

Numbly I followed her direction, unable to do more than that. I slipped my feet into my slides and watched as Jacques raced over to the closet, pulled on a pair of old sneakers, and dashed back to me.

“I’m okay,” I mumbled. But I couldn’t do much more than stand there like a robot.

I was numb. In shock.

“Jacques, where are your keys? Let me lock up and we’ll go.”

Carina dashed out of the room, her long hair fluttering behind her like a mane, and I stared numbly after her.

“Guys,” she called after a moment, and we moved, hauling ass out to the entryway near our front door.

“Keys and ID?” Carina asked, and Jacques scooped them up from the drawers in the side table. She plucked the keys from his hand and said, “Let’s go.”

Carina locked the door and hustled us into the car, then jumped straight into the driver’s seat and plugged an address into the navigation.

“In eight hundred and eighty yards, turn left,” the car instructed.

“Oh, fuck that,” Carina muttered. “Jacques, figure out a way to turn this thing metric or we’ll end up in Tijuana.”

She didn’t wait for him to finish, slamming her foot on the accelerator. The back end of the big SUV fishtailed, throwing dust and gravel into the air as we sped down the driveway.

Jacques gripped the grab handle and played with the settings on the navigation. He was quiet, as if my panic attack had sucked the life right out of him. I knew exactly how he felt.

“Right side of the road,” Carina murmured as she turned left out of our drive. She lifted her gaze to the rearview mirror and met mine for a moment.

“You with me?” she asked.

I blinked, and she pursed her lips.

“Talk to me, Lincoln. I need to hear you speak.”

“I…,” I choked out before sucking in a shuddery breath. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

“Stay with me, all right?” Carina flicked her gaze to Jacques momentarily, then straight back to the road. “Jacques, you?”

He exhaled heavily. “Travis….”

“The line with the chief was really bad. I couldn’t hear much of what he said. I don’t know exactly what happened, but his injuries aren’t life-threatening. That’s the main thing. The chief was on his way to the hospital too. We’ll find out when we get there.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she shook her head, then wiped them away. “He’s okay. That’s what we need to focus on.”

The ride was quiet after that. The exhaustion was all consuming, but I wanted to see Travis. I needed to.