Page 32 of Fourth Wheel
“I’m sitting with him in the grass. He’s so out of it, I can’t get him to stand.”
“Are you safe?”
Are we?
“No,” I whisper as my lip quivers with the confession.
If those guys come back out here looking for a fight… or if Adley decides to make good on his little stunt and prove a point… neither of us is safe. Another sob croaks out, and I curse myself for acting like such a sissy right now.
“Tickle him,” Dempsey demands.
“Wh-what?”
“Tickle him. Stomach, armpits—Fielding’s super ticklish. Unless he’s literally unconscious, that’ll at least get him moving.”
“Okay…”
“I’m going to stay on the phone with you until I get there. See if you guys can get to the road or somewhere safe. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I switch the phone to speaker and stick it in my back pocket, then make sure my wristlet is secure before standing. My legs are asleep from kneeling, which is probably a good thing because my left ankle has its own pulse and is twice the size of my right.
I brush off some of the grass and dirt on my knees, then bend to where Fielding lies at my feet.
I go right for the kill shot and jam my fingers into his armpit. The man shoots straight up, then is on his feet and screaming like a banshee a second later.
“Field! Shh! Shh! You’re okay! It’s just me!”
His lagoon-blue eyes are wild and hazy. He’s looking right at me, but it’s clear he hasn’t connected the dots.
“It’s Maddie,” I soothe, reaching out and placing a hand on his arm. “Maddie Wheeler.”
“Fuck,” he hisses, his right hand coming up to gingerly press on his swollen eye. “Fuuuck,” he groans again, but with real feeling this time, as he skims his right hand over his left arm.
We lock eyes, and he blinks.
“Maddie?”
“Yes. Your brother’s on his way. We have to get out of here, though. Can you walk? We have to get to the road—”
“Grab my wrist,” he grunts, cocking his head toward the left arm hanging at his side.
“Field, I don’t want to hurt—”
“Just do it,” he commands.
I swallow down a lump in my throat.Get it together, Maddie. He’s standing. Dempsey’s on his way. We’re gonna be okay.
“Like this?” I ask as I gingerly circle his wrist in my hand.
“Both hands,” he growls.
I don’t know if he’s hurt or pissed or both.
“Hold on tight,” he says before jerking away from me. I keep my feet firmly planted but still lose my balance from of the momentum. I hear it andfeel itbefore I realize what’s happening.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he grinds out as he doubles over in pain.
“No, no, no,” I panic as he takes a knee. “Please don’t sit down. We have to move, Fielding. We have togo.”
