Page 16 of His Prize

“Nope. He stayed safe while pulling you from the wreckage.”

I paused. “He what?”

She closed her book. “You’re lucky to be alive, Miss Bonnie. Your car rolled four times before being pinned to the side of a corner store boutique. Your neck is sprained, and your left knee-cap was dislocated. You’ll have to walk with crutches once your wrist heals.”

“My wrist?”

“Mhm. You broke your wrist along with your thumb and pinky finger on your left hand.”

I sighed. “At least it’s not my dominant hand.”

“But, other than that, you only came away with some bumps and bruises. You’re the luckiest woman I’ve ever met, Miss Bonnie. And that’s a fact.”

I pushed down the covers. “I have to get out of here. I have too much to do.”

Then, his voice hit my ears. “What you need to do is stay put and take it easy.”

My eyes gravitated over to the door, and I saw him standing there—his hair ruffled and disheveled, his shirt unbuttoned down his chest, his hands shoved into his pockets. And his eyes, they were fraught with fury.

“Israel. You’re here.”

He stepped into the room. “Where else would I be?”

I blinked. “I don’t know.”

Ash stood up. “Here, Mr. Rossi. Please, sit.”

He took the chair Ash was sitting in while she came around to my other side. She pulled up a chair, cracked open her book, and buried her nose back into it. She was listening, though. And that was all right with me.

Because as far as I was concerned, my new head bodyguard needed to know the ins and outs of what happened with this accident.

“It was my uncle, wasn't it?” I asked.

Israel took my hand. “Yes. The logo on the truck belongs to one of the very first businesses Pava usurped around here.”

I furrowed my brow. “Tanker’s Hauling?”

“No. PetShop Galore.”

I blinked. “The pet grooming place? Are you serious?”

“That was the logo on the truck, yes. It tore right through the intersection and T-boned your car. He was gunning for you, and I’m willing to bet my life on the fact that it’s because of your uncle.”

“Wait, you saw the accident?”

His eye twitched. “I did.”

“Israel, I—”

He leaned forward. “You apologize too much. Stop that.”

Ash piped up, “He’s right. Looks weak.”

I snickered. “Thanks, you two.”

Israel nodded. “Who’s that?”

Ash flipped a page. “You could just ask.”

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