THREE
Mabel
I wince as I crack one eye open.
“Stay still!” a male voice commands.
My throat is on fire. Every inch of me hurts, and I cry out as I lift my arm to brush my hair out of my face.
“Dillon?” I croak.
I try to turn my head to the right, but my neck hurts too much.
“We’re going to get you out,” the man tells me. “Just stay still.”
A moment later, the whir of a machine starts, and the terrible screech of metal bending fills the quiet air. Squinting, I see the jaws of life prying my door open.
I startle as the door crashes open, looking into the eyes of the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
Worried blue eyes meet mine. I swallow, but my throat is dry as a desert.
“You’re going to be okay,” he tells me.
His brown hair falls over his forehead as he moves to cut my seatbelt.
“Can you tell me what hurts?” he asks.
“Everything,” I rasp.
“Yeah, I’m not surprised. Do you remember what happened? Do you remember hitting anything?”
“Wolves.”
He freezes. “Wolves?”
I nod, wincing as the ache in my head intensifies.
He pulls on gloves and gently prods the sore spot on my forehead. “Try to stay still. You hit your head.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Oh, God. I… Is Dillon okay?”
The man looks stricken. “Dillon? Is that your friend’s name?”
“Yes! Is she okay?”
“My partner is working on her. She’s in good hands.”
“I can’t lose her,” I whisper.
“You won’t,” he promises.
For some strange reason, I believe him.
The man is handsome, but there’s something else about him. His presence calms me and puts me at ease. I feel connected to him.
Must be because he saved me.
I try to move again to see Dillon, but the guy holds me in place.
“Stay still. I’m getting you out.”
An EMT wheels a stretcher over and puts a neck brace on me, carefully tightening it. His gentleness brings tears to my eyes. Guess it makes sense. I haven’t had much comfort or kindness in my life.
My handsome rescuer smiles reassuringly. “I’ll help you onto the stretcher. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“We’ll go slow. Just take it easy. Can you move your legs?”
“I think so.”
I slide one foot to the door and set it on the ground carefully.
“That’s it,” he encourages.
“Oh!” I shout as I twist, and a stabbing pain erupts in my side.
“Easy, mate,” he says, grabbing my hips.
“My ribs,” I pant, trying to breathe through the pain.
“I’ve got you,” he says softly.
He gently lifts me out of the car and shifts me onto the stretcher. “Let me get the back. Are you comfortable?”
I lean back. “I think I’m as good as I’m going to get right now.”
He nods, his expression grim.
My eyes widen as he moves aside, and I see the wreckage of my car. My hands fly to my mouth. “Oh, my god!”
“Shh, I know it looks bad, but you’re okay. Dillon is going to be okay.”
“That car was everything,” I say, tears spilling onto my cheeks.
“We’ll get your things out of the car. I promise.”
I see Dillon as they lift her out of the car. Her eyes are closed, and panic slams into me. She’s unconscious.
“Why isn’t she waking up?” I ask, panicked.
“She will. We’re working on her,” the EMT assures me. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
He pushes my stretcher toward the ambulance, but my eyes remain locked on Dillon.
“She’ll be right next to you,” my rescuer reassures me, squeezing my hand. “What’s your name?”
“Mabel.”
“Nice to meet you, Mabel. I’m Miles.”
I nod, looking at Dillon as her stretcher is moved next to mine.
I automatically touch the throbbing area on my head, and a second later, blood trickles into my eyes.
“Shit!” I hiss.
“Easy. You opened the wound again,” Miles tells me.
I wince as he works to stop the bleeding.
“Ready?” another guy calls.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Miles says.
The ambulance doors close, and we head to the hospital.
We hit a few potholes, and I grimace as the pain in my ribs and head increases, making my vision fuzzy at the edges.
“Stay with me,” Miles urges, clutching my hand.
His glowing eyes are the last thing I remember before I pass out.