T
itus
I NEARLY SHIFT RIGHT THERE in the street.
Somehow, I know the crash involved Sunny. I sprint at top speed to the intersection as a wrecked silver Volvo tears off down a side street.
And there, in the middle of the intersection, is Sunny’s bus, smashed on the side like she got T-boned, and spun around facing the sidewalk.
“Sunny!” I shout, leaping over the wall separating me from the road and nearly tearing her door off its hinges.
There’s no airbag, nothing soft for her delicate human face to hit. Sunny’s forehead rests on the steering wheel and the smell of her blood makes my vision dome. I’m ready to shift to defend her, but there’s no one left to fight. The assholes took off after smashing into my lovely human.
“Sunny. Fuck, Sunny.” I want to tear the bus apart to make space for her crumpled body. I draw in a deep breath to calm the fuck down.
Christ, she’s just a human. A delicate, breakable human.
And such a slender, frail one at that.
I caused this. I left her limp and dazed. She was in no condition to drive-although this accident clearly wasn’t her fault. Still, she might have been more aware of her surroundings if she hadn’t just been fucked out of her mind.
To my relief, Sunny groans and lifts her head.
“Sunny. Don’t move, baby. I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No, no.” She attempts to unbuckle her seatbelt and sucks in a sharp breath. Her arm is hanging at a funny angle. She reaches with the other arm. “I’m all right.”
Total liar.
She slides out of the bus.
Before her feet can hit the ground, I scoop her straight into my arms. “You’re clearly not.” Her arm’s broken, a large egg has already formed on her forehead and the laceration across her neck and shoulder from the seatbelt makes me want to howl.
Sirens sound close by. A cop car pulls up with the lights spinning.
“Put me down,” she mutters.
“No fucking way. I need to get you to a hospital.”
“Titus, I’m fine. Put me down.”
“What happened?” One of the cops demands as his partner calls for an ambulance.
“She got T-boned by a silver Volvo,” I tell them. “It took off down that side street there.”
“You get a license number?”
I shake my head. I’d been too focused on getting to Sunny to memorize it. “It was a New Mexico plate. I think it had a J and an 8 in it, but I don’t remember the rest.”
“Were you in the vehicle when the accident happened?”
“No, I heard the crash from the plaza and came running.”
The guy eyes Sunny’s perch in my arms dubiously. “You never move a victim. Always wait for emergency services. She could have a broken neck, and moving her could leave her paralyzed.”
Jesus.
My stomach drops to my shoes.
“I don’t have a broken neck,” Sunny insists, but she holds up the wrecked arm. “Just a broken arm. And he’s putting me down right now. Aren’t you, Titus?”
It’s only because she sounds out of breath and in pain that I comply. Fuck, maybe she has broken ribs and I’m hurting her more. I gently tip her to her feet and keep a solid arm around her waist to support her. She leans into me, trembling like a flower.
The ambulance arrives and the EMTs take over. Sunny tries to argue about not going in an ambulance, but I cut across her protests. “Don’t listen to her. She’s going with you, end of story.”
Apparently they agree because they get her down on a gurney and put her in the back of the ambulance. “I’ll follow in the bus, baby. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
She blinks at me with that cat-like gaze of hers. I see no fear. No angst. Only uncanny assessment.
It should reassure me that she’s unafraid, but it doesn’t. The female’s so out-of-this-world, she might not even realize how hurt she is. She might not recognize when she needs help. I’m sure as shit she wouldn’t ask for it. She strikes me as the type who’s been taking care of herself her whole life.
Crazy, dangerous woman.
I go to the bus, which is blocking traffic, and am relieved to find it still runs. The bent metal isn’t restricting the movement of the tires or engine.
Heart still in my throat, I follow the ambulance to Holy Cross Hospital and head into the waiting area to call my son.
“Hey, Dad.” Tank’s deep rumble comes through the earpiece. Another surge of guilt ripples through me.
I stab my fingers through my hair. “Hey, uh I called to tell you something. There’s been an accident.”
“What?” I hear a crunch and I know my son just cracked his phone. He’s always had trouble managing his strength.
“It’s Foxfire’s mom. Sunny’s bus was hit by a car. They took her to the hospital for an eval.”
“Sunny?” I hear the shocked disbelief in Tank’s voice and then Foxfire’s frightened one comes on the line.
“What happened to my mom?”
“She was in a car accident but she walked away. I mean, she was on her feet before they put her in the ambulance. Her arm was definitely broken, though.”
“Oh my goddess. Are you in Taos with her?”
“Yes. Don’t worry, Foxfire. I’ll take care of her.” The words come out before I can stop them, but I know they’re true. As much as it kills me, the mission from my alpha just slid to second priority.
Sunny’s hurt and I’m partly responsible. Even if I wasn’t, there’s no way I’d walk away from her. She’s fragile as glass and doesn’t even have the advantage of youth to help her rebound from this. She may be laid up for days-even weeks.
And she’s utterly alone up here. No pack-family-whatever humans call it. Who knows how reliable these friends of hers are?
“Thanks, Titus. I’m glad you were there.” Foxfire’s voice sounds shaky. After a pause, she says, “Why are you there?”
“I’m on pack business.” I rub my forehead.
Or I’m supposed to be.