Page 75 of Whispers and Wildfire

“Someone should take him. He could have internal bleeding.”

“I got it,” Kyle said. “I’ll go get my car. Wait here.”

People around me kept arguing about what to do with me. A few discussed how to get my car out of the way so they could keep racing. But that was how it worked. I’d seen crashes happen. We stopped long enough to make sure noone needed medical attention, got their cars out of the way, and the race was back on.

It was fucked up, when I thought about it.

Still clutching my ribs, I leaned against my car and waited for Kyle. What a mess. I didn’t even want to turn around and survey the damage to my car. Didn’t want to know. The pain in my side was blinding, making sweat drip down my back and nausea roil through my stomach. Idly, I wondered if I had broken ribs.

Someone had said the words internal bleeding. That wasn’t good.

It served me right. I shouldn’t have been driving angry. I was just glad I hadn’t done worse. Glad I was still alive.

Kyle pulled up, and someone I didn’t know helped me into the passenger side of his old Dodge Challenger. Grimacing, I tried not to groan as I got in. Fuck, it hurt. And all I could think about as he started down the track to the bumpy dirt road that would lead out of there was how much I wanted to call Melanie.

CHAPTER 19

Luke

The driveto the hospital was torture.

We were out in the middle of nowhere, so the closest facility was in Echo Creek, about half an hour from home. I was glad Kyle didn’t have to take me straight to Tilikum. There was a hospital there, too, but if I rolled in with broken ribs in the middle of the night, the gossip line would go nuts.

And they’d probably call Garrett. That was the last thing I needed.

As it was, I didn’t think about how I was getting home. The words internal bleeding kept echoing through my mind. I didn’t want to bleed out in the passenger seat of Kyle’s car. That would be a shitty way to go.

I was such an idiot.

“Hang on,” Kyle said.

“What?”

The car started bumping up and down, over and over. It wasn’t the feel of a dirt road, even one that was pitted with potholes. It was steadier, but also worse, like we were driving on a railroad track.

Wait. I glanced out the window. Were we driving on a railroad track?

Clutching my midsection and gritting my teeth against the pain, I looked at Kyle. “Where the fuck are we?”

“It’s an old railroad bridge. Not in use anymore. It’s faster. I don’t want you bleeding out before I get you to the hospital.”

Faster? Kyle’s so-called shortcut was going to kill me. I looked out the window again, squinting my eyes against the darkness. From what I could see, Kyle’s shortcut didn’t have a wall or guardrail. We were crossing a ravine.

Fuck.

Finally, we made it across the bridge. The dirt road was still uneven, but nothing like the bridge had been. We got to the highway, and I leaned my head back, trying to breathe through the pain.

After what felt like an eternity, Kyle pulled up in front of the emergency entrance to the Echo Creek hospital.

“You can walk, right?” he asked. “You’ll make it inside?”

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He fidgeted, his nervousness clear. He didn’t want to have to answer questions about how I got injured.

It wasn’t like I thought this guy was actually my friend, but damn. He wasn’t even going to park and make sure I got all the way inside. Brutal.

“I got it.”

Wincing, I unfastened the seat belt, opened the door, and eased my way out. I had to stop and take a few breaths before I could straighten enough to walk.

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