Page 72 of Hot Receiver

Anna drops my hand, and I follow the cop through the barricade. I swallow hard as we pass his mess of a car.

But then I see a couple of people sitting up on stretchers, and my heart jumps.

“Who did you say you were looking for again?”

“Zak Kacey,” I say, my throat so tight I can barely choke out his name.

The cop’s jaw tenses. He blows out a sharp breath and turns toward the ambulances, rubbing the back of his head as one peels away from the scene.

He points. “He’s in that one. On the way to St. Michael’s.”

I double over, my stomach damn near close to revolting. I press my fingers against the sides of my head, my vision blurred with tears.

I let him go. I let him believe that he wasn’t important enough, that he wasn’t worth the risk to my career. I’m the reason why he was in such a rush to get out of here and away from me.

I’m the reason he may be?—

No. Fuckingno. I’m not even going to think that.

He has to be okay.

He has to hear that I need him.

That I love him.

That I can’t live without him.

But I don’t know if I’m going to have that chance.

Chapter 30

Zak

Sirens scream, piercing my eardrums through the fog that’s set into my brain. I wince, the pain assaulting my head harsh and sharp. The lights are bright, too bright. My eyelids flutter but don’t open. A throbbing ache consumes the left side of my skull.

Confusion blankets my conscious thoughts.

Where am I?

Still, I can’t open my eyes.

Cant, won’t. Don’t really know.

Fragments of memories splinter my brain. Red light, screeching tires, crushing metal. My chest quakes with short gasps of breath. Low voices surround me.

“…bp is high…no response to touch…”

Is someone touching me?

I want to ask, but my mouth ignores my mind.

My eyes open a crack then slam shut. Nope. Too fucking bright.

I keep them squeezed shut. My fingers grip the sides of whatever I’m lying on. With a racing pulse, I use the remainingslivers of energy to sit up, but my arms give out and buckle before my head can lift from the pillow.

“Easy, buddy,” a smooth voice from in front of me says. “We’re gonna take good care of you. Just stay still.”

“I need to sit up,” I mutter, squinting at the blurred face. “And can you shut off the lights?”

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