by Vivian Arend
On any other night it would have been beautiful. Now the beauty was washed away by the knowledge it was going to be pitch-black within the hour.
“We’ll find him,” Mike promised. “He’s going to be okay.”
“He will,” she said with as much conviction as possible. Nicole faced her brother. “Thank you for not suggesting we check with past girlfriends.”
“He’s not cheating on you, Nic. He’d never do that.”
“Still, thank you.”
“The guy loves you. Hell, I suppose it makes sense. You are my sister, after all. You must be pretty amazing.”
He offered the weak attempt at a joke, and she took it, hanging on to the seat with both hands and praying.
Hang on, Troy, I’m coming to get you.
Chapter Seventeen
Pain.
Intense, through his entire body, making it hard to breathe pain.
It was the only reference point Troy had for the first few moments before he sucked in enough air to allow a hoarse groan to escape.
He opened his eyes, blinking into the darkness. It took a moment for his vision to adjust, but even when faint shadows appeared, everything beyond his immediate area was pitch-black and eerily quiet.
Troy took stock, deliberately slowing his breathing. He used every relaxation technique he’d learned during his days on the field, flexing one body part at a time to check if any were in desperate condition.
The worst of it was a short list, thank God. His rib cage and chest throbbed with pain, and his right shin. His head hurt like the devil, and when he reached up, it was clear he was bleeding—stickiness coated his fingers as he touched the side of his face.
The weirdest bit was he didn’t seem to be sitting on the level. Instead, he hung twisted sideways, the seatbelt holding him partially suspended in midair.
A few more things came into focus. The airbag hung from the center of the steering wheel, the deflated pink material like a gory after-party decoration gone wrong…
Oh hell, he’d gone off the road.
“Jeez.”
Troy thought back, working hard to pin the scrambled details into order. It had been early afternoon when he’d picked up the certified cheque and the transport insurance he needed before heading out to Maxwell Kent’s.
It had taken him a steady week to convince Max to sell him the car, every bit of his golden-boy charm in play. In the end he’d come clean and told the truth…
“I need it as an engagement gift for my girl.”
“You’re settling down?” Maxwell’s bushy brows rose, followed by a wink. “The Adams girl, is it?”
“Yes, sir.” Troy flashed his most enticing grin. “I think she’ll have me, but if I sweeten the pot with the car, I know she will…”
Max laughed. “Go on with you. The girl would be lucky to have you, with or without the car. But…okay. I guess I can give her up now.” He swept a hand over the hood. “I’ve been taking her out regular,” he confessed, “just to keep her in running order. My son would have liked that.”
“If you’re willing, we’ll come by and take you for a spin now and then,” Troy offered. He would have suggested Maxwell could drive, but the man would probably enjoy the company as much as anything else.
The older man nodded, and it was clear he was pleased. “That’d be fine.”
The Mustang was in amazing shape for how long it had been off the road. Troy had come out a couple days in a row to go over the entire vehicle carefully. Sneaking around without letting Nic figure out what was going on had been sheer murder, but it was so going to be worth it to see the expression on her face when he pulled in at Traders.
Or at least…that had been the plan.
Troy glanced around at what had been a pretty nice vehicle. Now the door beside him was crumpled, the front windshield a web of cracks barely visible in the pale light. Overhead, a branch stuck through the convertible roof, the sturdy material peeled back and fluttering in the light wind like tissue paper.
So much for Nic’s fancy you-deserve-to-be-spoiled present.
Troy swore. And swore again. Searching his memory for what had happened.
He pressed a hand over his forehead, gingerly touching the solid lump he found there, rising like a baseball. Great—he probably had a concussion to go with the rest of his broken parts.
And something was definitely broken. He’d gotten bruised ribs after being tackled on the field. This was worse, by a long shot.
He twisted in the seat, stopping as soon as his ribs protested in a full-out scream. The car sat at an angle, nose down, passenger side lower than where he was pinned in position.
There seemed to be a lot of trees around the vehicle. And over the car—it was as if he’d been buried under a bonfire pile. Troy peered into the dim lighting, trying to figure out the lay of the land. The only other landmark was the steep shadowed slope of a hill visible behind him outside the mass of trees.
Turning his head far enough to see that much made stars dance in his vision.
He lifted a hand to check his watch—the light came on, the numbers clear and bright. 6:57.
Damn it, he was going to be late.
He wiggled to the side, freezing instantly as what felt like daggers thrust through his body. Okay—so he wasn’t going to try that again. He patted his pockets carefully, wondering where the hell his phone had gone.
Troy removed his watch, using it as a flashlight to search around him. Everything that had been loose had ended up on the passenger floor, including bits and pieces of the Mustang that had broken free and now sat in a chaotic heap he couldn’t reach.
He bet his phone was somewhere in there.
The only thing he could snag was the sleeve of his jacket—it had caught on the stick shift—and he pulled it loose, gratefully draping the fabric over his torso. Shock was going to hit soon, and staying warm would help ease the stress.
Unlocking the seatbelt would let him free, but with his leg pinned and everything else that hurt, Troy wasn’t sure that was the best idea.
He closed his eyes, thinking back. He’d given Maxwell the cheque, then arranged to leave his truck in the barn overnight or until Nic could drive him out to grab it.
He’d done a final systems check on everything, shooting the breeze with Maxwell who’d hung around the entire time. Troy ended up having dinner with the man—it had been impossible to say no, and he didn’t have anywhere to be until seven, anyway.
On the highway, headed to town…
Thinking hurt. Troy took more deep breaths, picturing the road. Picturing the curve and the—
—trucker in his lane.
Shit. Troy tightened at the memory, then swore again because tightening up fucking hurt.
There’d been an eighteen-wheeler in his lane, and he’d had nowhere to go but to the right to avoid being hit head on. And to the right was a steep embankment. He was damn lucky the car hadn’t rolled—there must have been enough undergrowth to give him a surface to slide down, and enough trees to jerk the car to a stop.
Now the rest made sense. If he’d passed out, it hadn’t been for long.
It was frustrating as anything to be trapped, with no way to get himself free, and no way to call for help. He leaned on where the horn should be, and nothing happened. The front of the car was crushed enough to have cut or dislodged the horn wiring.
He was stuck until someone found him, and considering where he was, that didn’t sound like good odds.
Screw this. He’d just found the love of his life. He had plans, dammit, plans he desperately wanted to accomplish. Like waking up beside Nic every morning, and having babies with her, and all the rest.
He was not going to curl up and die alone in some ravine. Not without trying everything possible. Nic had asked him what he really, truly wanted—and he knew the answer. He wanted a lifetime with her.
Troy reached for the seatbelt and braced himself.
“Wait, you’re breaking up. Let me g
et a stronger signal, and I’ll call you back.” Nicole grabbed Mike’s arm, hope rushing in over the solid layer of fear she’d been fighting for the past hour. “Head toward town—Katy thinks she’s got something for us.”
“Done.” He pulled a U-turn.
Nicole watched the signal bars on her phone flicker between zero and one bar and cursed all rural cell towers.
The instant she got two bars she hit redial. “Drive a bit more, but we should be good.”
“Nic?” Excitement brightened Katy’s voice. “I know where Troy was this afternoon.”
“Really?”
“His bank records show a withdrawal to motor vehicles, so insurance, and a certified cheque to Maxwell Kent.”
Oh my God. “He bought the convertible.”
“Which means he’s probably on the side of the road—I’m sorry I didn’t figure this out earlier.” Katy sounded miserable.
“Are you kidding me? You’re amazing. Troy’s going to be so pleased you figured it out at all. Bank stuff is tough.” Nic covered the phone. “Head to Maxwell Kent’s,” she ordered her brother before getting back on with Katy. “Can you look up Max’s number for me?”
“One step ahead of you. Gage is talking to him right now. One sec—”
Mike was turning on to the secondary highway headed toward the Kent’s farm. “Nic?”
“In a minute,” she warned. “I’m waiting for Gage.”
He was on the line in seconds.
“Maxwell says Troy left around six thirty, which doesn’t give him time to go anywhere else if he wanted to be at Traders by the top of the hour. He’s got to be on that road,” Gage assured her. “I’ll call the rest of the crew and head them your way.”
“If we find him with his feet up on the dash, we’ll let you know right away,” she promised.
Mike waited until she’d lowered the phone. “Update.”
“He was at Maxwell’s until six thirty, so keep your eyes peeled for turn outs, in case he pulled off the road to do repairs and he’s stuck.”
The trip to the farm passed too quickly—there was no sign of Troy at all. Nicole peered into the darkness, every sense on high alert for the sight that never arrived.
Mike drove them past Maxwell’s barn, turning in a circle to shine his headlights on all the possible parking spaces, but no miracle occurred. No one jumped out to reassure her, although Maxwell was making his way from the front porch.
Mike stared into the empty field ahead of them. “This makes no sense.”
“Turn around,” Nicole ordered.
“But we drove—”
“Turn the damn truck around,” she repeated, each word etched in thicker ice the longer it took him to move, “or get your ass out and I’ll drive myself. He’s out there, Mike. Somewhere.”
“Okay. I know. It’s just crazy. How can a car disappear?”
“It can’t, so we missed something.”
Maxwell held up a hand and Mike lowered his window.
Nicole was ready to crawl out and start running down the highway if this took too long.
Luckily, Maxwell just handed them an oversized flashlight. “Thought this might help. Let me know when you find him.”
Mike took off, and they headed back down the highway. Nicole made him turn on his blinkers so they could inch their way along the road as she poked her head out the open window, shining the flashlight into the ditch.
Her brother phoned Gage to update him, hanging up to let Nicole know the latest. “The others are starting from town, going slower this time, just like us.”
Slow. Painfully slow when every bit of her wanted to rush. A rock stuck in the wheel well rattled over and over until she was ready to scream.
She wanted to see him. Needed to tell him how much she loved him. How much forever was going to rock because they were together. Nicole didn’t allow her mind to drift toward anything other than the option that they’d find him in one piece—waiting for her.
The phone resting on the console between them went off, and she and Mike both jumped a foot into the air as she scrambled to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Nic, we found him. Mile 17.” It was her brother-in-law Kevin. “He’s down the ditch, but I’ve got my fire team here. We’re getting him up the embankment, and there’s already an ambulance on the way.”
Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely hold the phone. “He’s okay?”
“He will be,” Kevin promised. “Tell Mike not to rush—you’ll be here before they take him away.”
The short time it took to relay the message and travel the distance back toward town seemed impossibly long. Flashing lights were everywhere, trucks turned to face into the ravine. Nicole realized they were shining their headlamps into the darkness to allow the rescue team to see what they were doing.
“Don’t you jump out before I stop,” Mike warned. “Troy will kick your ass if you get hurt doing something stupid.”
The instant he put the truck in park she was out the door and running, cautiously after that warning, but still as fast as possible toward the action.
The fire crew had hold of a rope and were steadily climbing the steep embankment, a spinal board supported between them.
“Oh my God.” The words whispered out, but she kept moving toward the edge. “Troy? Troy?” Louder the second time. Loud enough to hear the fear in her own voice.
“Hey, baby. I’m a little tied down at the moment.”
The sound of his laid-back drawl nearly did her in. She met the board at the edge of the road, fighting tears because her bursting into a sobbing mess was the last thing he needed right now. “Look at you, lazy butt. How did you rate the harem to carry you around?”
“Don’t they look great? I’m thinking of getting them to hang around 24/7. Especially the big blond—I might hire him to give me piggyback rides.”
The big blond—Chase—chuckled. “Of course, Your Majesty. Although I hope you don’t try to steer…”
Troy hissed. “Low-blow, man, low-blow. I’ll have you know I ended up exactly where I intended.”
They were carrying him toward the ambulance, and Nicole could only catch glimpses of his face. “I’ll meet you at the hospital,” she promised.
“Sure.” Troy lifted a hand from the board. “Hey, Nic?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you. Sorry I crashed your car.”
Plain as day, straight up, a hint of amusement in his voice.
How she found the strength to imitate his casual tone, she had no idea. “I love you too. We’ll buy another. Or maybe a tank.”
He wiggled his fingers. “See you in a bit. Oh, and tell Mike he needs to bring in his truck sometime soon—his brake pads need replacing.”
Then he was gone into the back of the ambulance.
Nicole turned, the smile she’d pinned in place vanishing between one breath and the next. Choking on tears of relief as strong hands wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her against a solid chest.
Kevin. “He’s going to be okay, Nic. We found him in time.”
“Good.” She sucked for air around the tears. “I need to get to the hospital. Where’s Mike?”
“Right here.” Her brother caught her by the hand and led her back to the truck. “Come on, let’s get you there in one piece.”
It was a long enough ride she let herself cry for a bit before wiping her eyes and getting herself under control. Until she saw Troy up close and personal, and knew he was really truly okay, she wasn’t going to believe it.
Mike dropped her by the emergency doors. “I’ll park then join you.”
Emergency staff made her wait until the trauma-room nurses said she could go in, guiding her down narrow hallways into the triage area.
Troy lay on a semi-reclined bed, IV drip inserted in his left arm, while a doctor worked a row of stitches on his head.
Of course, he spotted her before she could say anything. “Hey beautiful.”
�
�Looks who’s talking, handsome.” There was room beside the bed near his hip, and Nicole slipped into the space. She caught his fingers in hers, holding them cautiously.
He reassured her with a strong squeeze. “I hear I’m the main event for a while, Nic. Stitches, X-rays…”
“Ultrasound,” the nurse added, turning to Nicole. “You can stay here, or wait in the main area.”
“I’ll stay.”
“They finished my leg before you got here,” Troy told her proudly. “Double layer of stitches on that one.”
“Fancy. Did you get the embroidery option?”
He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a grunt. “And…we won’t do that for a bit. Laughing hurts.”
Damn it, she was an idiot. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I love you exactly the way you are. Hang around, and I’ll find a closet for us.”
She was not going to cry, dammit. “I plan on sticking around for as long as you’ll let me.”
Their gazes met, and an emotional storm hit—more powerful than being wrapped up in the middle of a wild session of sex.
He’d heard what she was saying. Heard it either in her voice, or maybe it was osmosis between their fingers. They were it. Together, through everything.
The expression in his eyes was enough to help get her through the uncertainty and fear of the next couple of hours as they hauled him out for more tests before returning him to wait for results.
The nursing staff had to be keeping the rest of the family away—it was the only explanation Nicole could think of for there not being a mess of Thompsons surrounding them.
Although, at one point Clay appeared at her elbow, glancing around at the empty floor inside their curtained area. “Are you hanging in there?”
“Yeah. I need to sneak out for a pit stop.” She rubbed weary eyes, but there was no way in hell she was going home until Troy was settled.
Clay pressed a brotherly kiss to her temple. “I’ll stick around until you get back. In case Troy shows up.”
Nicole found the nearest washroom, barely noticing how hellish she looked in the mirror. She washed up, splashing icy-cold water on her face and the back of her neck.