LITMIR.BIZ

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was going over.

      Suddenly she was back on the road, her speedometer pushing ninety.

      She wanted to cover her eyes or hold her breath or do anything to keep from seeing her inevitable end.

      Lord, let this be quick.

      “Run—way. —uck. Ramp!”

      Luke had returned to her side, and he pointed just to her left.

      A brown sign pointed to a gravel runaway-truck ramp. It was going to total her car. And maybe her body. It was also her only hope.

      Heart in her throat, she jerked the wheel toward the exit, praying that she hadn’t chosen the wrong way out.

      Gravel crunched beneath her tires, the momentum of the car sending her flying forward.

      And then it all slammed to an end.

      * * *

      Luke skidded to a halt at the base of the ramp, grabbing his crutches and leaping from the car before it had fully stopped. He set the foot of his injured leg down, immediately regretting the decision. “Ahhh!” Fire shot through his knee at even the lightest pressure, but he swung his way toward the cloud of dust masking Mandy’s SUV. When he reached the rear bumper, he tossed his crutches down and used the vehicle to keep his balance as he hopped toward the driver’s door.

      There was no sign of movement from within, and Luke forced his voice to remain steady as he called out. “Mandy? Doc? Are you okay?”

      She didn’t respond, and he hopped a little faster, matching the rising tempo of his heartbeat. He hadn’t thought it could go any faster than it had when that truck had come flying around the curve and he’d had to slam on his brakes. He’d whipped behind Mandy only a fraction of a second before the big rig would have slammed into him.

      But the thought of what he might find inside her car had his heart hammering a painful tattoo.

      “Luke?”

      The voice was no more than a breath, and he thought he’d imagined it until he hopped another foot in her direction.

      “Luke? Are you okay?”

      The sudden quiet in the center of his chest echoed through his limbs, and he closed his eyes to capture the memory of that peace. “Fine. I’m fine. You?”

      There was a long pause. He couldn’t move fast enough to get to her door. Finally his fingers wrapped into the open window, and he pulled himself even with it, staring hard through the muddied air.

      Large brown eyes blinked twice before closing for a long moment. Her pink lips formed a tight line as though she was trying to pull herself together before speaking. The rest of her face was painted in a fine layer of grime.

      He reached for her cheek, but stopped short. She hadn’t moved any of her limbs yet, and he wasn’t about to touch her before he knew how badly she was injured. “Can you move your arms and legs?”

      Without opening her eyes, Mandy waved both hands and bounced both of her knees. A soul-crushing groan followed.

      “Where do you hurt?”

      “Everywhere?” She swung her head in his direction, and only then did he see the streaming red line above her right eye.

      Shrugging out of his long-sleeved overshirt, he pulled it inside out, wadded it up and pressed it against the gash. With his other thumb, he swiped at the dirt on her cheeks, looking for other abrasions. “You hit the steering wheel?”

      She started to nod but seemed only able to manage a grimace. “How bad is it?”

      “It could have been a whole lot worse.”

      She opened her eyes at that. Fear and something close to panic lurked in the depths there. They were on the same page. She’d dodged another bullet, another attempt on her life. But someone was more calculating and brazen than they had guessed. Whoever it was had access to Mandy and her car. And he wasn’t going away.

      After clearing her throat, Mandy reached up for the shirt pressed against her hairline. Their fingers brushed as she felt around for the right angle, and he was tempted to give them a comforting squeeze, until she took charge. “I’ve got it.”

      “Honestly, how much does your head hurt?”

      Without missing a tick, she replied, “Four out of ten.”

      He’d guess from the size of the gash and speed she’d been going, she was more likely at a six. So she either had a high tolerance for pain or a low tolerance for letting people help her. Probably the latter. Doctors were notoriously bad patients.

      “Do you have a flashlight?”

      Rooting around in her center console, she finally pulled out a roadside-ready light and handed it to him.

      “I was going to check your pupils—” he chuckled, pointing it at the ground and flicking it on “—but I think this thing would make you go blind.”

      “I’m all right. Maybe a mild concussion, but I don’t have any nausea or ringing in my ears. And my head really only hurts right here.” She tapped the shirt still stemming the flow of blood on her forehead. “I didn’t lose consciousness, and I have no memory loss.”

      “Clearly you remember all of your concussion training from school.”

      She squinted sternly at him, but a tiny smile broke the facade. “Yes. I’m fine. How did you know to follow me? How did you even find me?”

      “That puddle under your car wasn’t antifreeze. It was brake fluid. I had a hunch you’d skip the highway if your car was acting up, so I chased you down. Hope you don’t mind.”

      Her grin managed to reach another level. “Thank you.”

      “You’re welcome.” He nodded and leaned back enough to get a better look at her car, the tires nearly submerged in the sand. “You’re still sinking. If you can move, we better get you out of here and call CHP.”

      The California Highway Patrol wouldn’t be too happy that their truck ramp had been used by a smallish SUV, but Luke had never been so glad to see a ramp as he was that night.

      Swinging her door open, he hopped on his good leg and offered her a hand to help her out of the car. When she landed on the shifting rocks, she stumbled against the car. Resting against its frame, she took several cleansing breaths.

      “Dizzy now?”

      “Just a little bit.” When she opened her eyes, she reached for his arm but stopped short. “How did you get over here? You can’t be walking on your own.” Her voice rose in volume and pitch with each word.

      He nodded toward the crutches leaning against the bumper. “I just hopped the last eight feet.”

      Her narrowed gaze homed in on his face. “Do you have any idea how badly you could have reinjured your knee? Sand, gravel, anything like this—” she stomped her foot on the yielding ground “—could mean the end of your full recovery. The end of your chances with the teams.”

      Her words hit just where she’d aimed, like a punch to his gut and a left hook to his jaw, for good measure. But he didn’t look away, even as he tightened the muscles keeping his injured leg elevated. “I wasn’t thinking. I saw your car slam to a stop, and...” His voice trailed off as he waved a hand toward his car, its headlights illuminating them from the base of the ramp.

      Mandy scrubbed her free hand down her face and rubbed at her eyes. “Thank you. Thank you for...” She finally looked away, long lashes shading the storm in her eyes. “Thank you for following me. For checking on me.”

      The rush of fulfillment that always came in the middle of a mission surged through his veins, and he smiled at her. “I’m glad I was there.”

      “Me, too. But promise me that you won’t be careless.”

      He hopped

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