Cover
CRASHED
Copyright © 2013 Danielle A. Elwood
All rights reserved as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the Author. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Table of Contents
COVER
COPYRIGHTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
EPILOGUE
A PREVIEW OF NEVER TOO LATE
WHAT'S THE BUZZ?
A sudden buzz snapped Emily Taylor out of her deep slumber. Dreamland had her wrapped in the arms of a muscular police officer with sandy blonde hair, deep blue eyes and a strong, chiseled face. The dry spell in her love life was starting to get to her. Leaning over she hit the snooze button and blinked as she examined the time. Eight-fifteen. Crap! Late already! She thought while jumping out of the bed, disturbing Flip, her tabby cat, who was snuggled comfortably on her feet. Sliding her closet door open, she examined her plethora of work-appropriate attire. A skirt or dress would require a shower and shaving her legs, both of which she didn't have enough time for. She quickly grabbed a pink top and black dress slacks and ran for the bathroom.
She examined her chin length blonde hair in the mirror. Running a brush through it she pulled a petite, silver glittery bobby pin from the vanity drawer and arranged her bangs to the side. This would have to do until tonight when she actually had time for a shower. She brushed her teeth, rolled on deodorant and got dressed as quickly as she could before applying some light makeup and making her way to the door. Son of a monkey's uncle, 15 minutes until I have to be in a meeting. Grabbing her keys and purse off the counter she slammed the door, only turning back to make sure it was locked.
“Morning Emily!” An older, dark-haired man said while walking towards her apartment door. “Good Morning Kevin, late for work!” Emily replied, jogging towards her white Volkswagen Beetle parked at the curb in her assigned parking spot. She fumbled with her keys dropping them. She bent to pick them up and cursed as she climbed into the driver's seat.
Ten minutes please, please, please be no traffic! She quickly backed out of her space and headed toward the main road in front of her complex. Carefully stopping at the stop sign and looking both ways before she pulled out in the direction of work. If there was anything Emily was always careful with, it was driving. After losing both of her parents in a car accident just two years earlier she had become paranoid.
She pulled into the Left turn-lane, and waited for the traffic signal to cue. Turning on the radio she caught one of her favorite songs, Anything but Mine by Kenny Chesney. She hummed along with the song; chiming in occasionally with the words.
The song reminded her of Jared. He had told her everything a girl had wanted to hear. But the moment her world crashed down around her and her parents died, he walked away like she meant nothing to him. Compared to the heartache she faced after losing both her parents, his loss was not incredibly significant. It was the subsequent loneliness that made the loss harder to bear.
The light changed snapping her out of the daydream. Her thoughts ran to the five minutes she had before she would be late and have to deal with her boss Mark Robertson. Overall he was a nice guy, but he was a notorious douche-bag to his tardy employees.
After checking all directions, she slowly took her turn. A silver truck sped into the intersection, running the red light. It all happened so fast, that there was nothing she could do to prevent it from hitting her. The pickup slammed into the side of her petite car, sending it skidding and tumbling over the asphalt. Metal crashed and crunched all around her. Her body tossed, her head smacking hard against the side window and again on her headrest. Adrenaline shot through her veins as the car finally stopped rolling and landed on its side, pinning the driver's side against the road. As Emily panicked, the smell of gasoline and sound of distant sirens faded as she fell into deep unconsciousness.
Avery Martin sat in the back of Tac 5 responding to yet another car accident at the intersection of International and Atlantic. That intersection was nothing short of a nightmare at rush hour. There were car accidents daily. From the sound of this one, it was worse than the average fender-bender.
Pulling up on the scene, he could see a small white car on its side. Shaking his head is disgust, he wondered why people chose to drive such small, dangerous cars. They were an accident waiting to happen. Avery jumped out, placed his helmet on his head and examined the scene before him. Looking through the windshield of the car he noticed a woman trapped inside. “We got a victim trapped,” he yelled back to all the emergency personnel arriving on the scene. “Lets stabilize this vehicle and get the jaws of life out and ready to move.”
He went to work without a second thought. Approaching the vehicle he cleared some of the broken windshield away to try and talk with the poor woman stuck inside the car. He swept shards of glass away from a cut across her forehead. She was unconscious. Dammit she's wedged, he thought, checking for her pulse. The men began to work around him, prying pieces of the car back to free her.
Two EMTs brought a backboard and a gurney. When there was enough space, he unbuckled her seat belt. He cradled her in his arms, supporting her neck and head. As if she was being jolted out of a bad dream, Emily came to. Her body tensed up in the arms of a strange man. She groaned and moved her hand up to feel her injured forehead.
“What the hell happened to me? Where am I?” She was barely able to speak, shaking uncontrollably against Avery's chest.
“Don't worry, I'm a firefighter. You were in a car accident but you're safe now. We are transporting you to the hospital momentarily.”
A car accident? Emily's muscles revolted against her as she tried to move. Her entire body throbbed with pain, especially her head.
“Don't move. You might have suffered a concussion. Stay as alert and focused as you can. We are going to take you right down the road to Halifax Medical Center,” he said before he and another EMT lifted the backboard from the ground and laid it on the gurney.
"I'm going to be late for work," she griped, trying to keep her composure and simultaneously fight the pain coursing through her muscles.
Another Firefighter chimed in, “Honey, work should be the last thing on your mind. Your car was just crushed like a potato chip by that asshole.”
Together they packed her into the back of the ambulance. “The medics will take care of you. Just stay calm and relaxed." Before the doors could close at her feet, another firefighter approached the back and set Emily's purse on the bench. "You might need this," he said.
Avery turned to leave, but Emily caught his hand quickly. Tears were slipping from her eyes. He could see the fear in them. "Don't go," she begged. Avery looked back at the rest of his crew then climbed into the ambulance with her.
Emily laid in a half-daze not taking her eyes off Avery as the medics checked her bones for breaks and cleaned the cut on her forehead. If she had known the firemen in Daytona Beach were so sexy, she would have lit her house on fire long ago. He had rugged good looks. His dirty blonde hair was short on the sides, but slightly longer on the top, flopping around once he removed his helmet. He h
ad stunning green eyes, ones she suspected would sparkle if they weren't clouded with concern and concentration on his job. His lips were full and looked absolutely delicious. She could imagine kissing them all night long.
One of the medics handed Avery a blood-pressure cuff and he slipped it gently over her arm. Her tears evaporated and she felt, for the first time since she'd been pulled from the wreck, that she was finally safe.
He wasn't sure why he'd decided to go along for the ride. He hadn't done that in a long time. But there had been a desperation in her eyes that he couldn't ignore. Once at the hospital, he'd left her in the hands of the doctors. She was going to be checked more thoroughly and given stitches for her cuts before they sent her home. He was no longer needed, so he called for a ride back to the station.
“You see the tits on that one Martin?” Tom said while walking across the bay of the firehouse.
“No, Tom. I was too busy doing my job,” he smarted, then grinned. Avery cleaned his gear between calls. His thoughts wandered to her. Of course he had noticed her endowments, even if he wasn't willing to admit it. He'd almost been distracted by them when they'd pressed against his gear. Aside from her pronounced curves, her blonde hair had caught his attention. And when their eyes met, he'd seen ocean-blue irises. She was not his usual type. His tastes ran dark when it came to women—dark hair, dark eyes and often, dark secrets. The secrets were why he found himself single and simply avoiding the opposite sex completely.
He wouldn't get anywhere thinking about her, especially when the odds were so against their meeting again. Even if he actively sought her out, he didn't know her name. He went back to his work, trying to force her from his mind.
"Martin," said his boss, coming up from behind. "I heard you took a little ride to the hospital earlier."
"Yes, sir. I did." He wasn't sure if he should expect a hail of fire for what he'd done but Captain Sullivan wasn't typically quick to anger.
"At least you got back fast," he said with a grin. "You don't usually do that kind of thing. Why this time?"
"I don't know. She just seemed to so sad."
"He's got a crush on her!" Tom called from across the bay.
"Back to work Dalton!" Sullivan called back to Tom.
"Yes, sir!" called Tom, guffawing in the background.
"I don't have a crush on her. It wasn't like that," Avery said, checking to make sure his multi-tool was in the left-lower pocket of his suit and hanging up his helmet.
"I'm headed down to the hospital to check on some paperwork. Do you want to go?"
"I just said—"
"Do you want to go or not?" the captain asked with a grin.
A BLAST FROM THE PAST
Pieces of her life were missing in her head. Her driver's license revealed her address and that her name was Emily. The hit to her head had knocked a few things loose. The doctors insisted the damage wasn't permanent, but everything around her felt wrong. No matter what anyone said, she banish that cold feeling of displacement.
She thumbed through her Facebook profile. Her picture albums showed she had plenty of friends and relationships. In one, a dark-haired man with sharp features and dark, chocolate-brown eyes stood out. There were a lot of pictures of them together from what appeared to be at least two years ago. She found herself drawn to him. Something inside her sparked when she looked at him, almost triggering memories she desperately wanted to remember, but everything remained foggy.
Her hospital room door slowly crept open, setting off a horrific screeching sound she had become annoyed with. To her surprise, her visitor was the fireman from that morning. She tucked further underneath her itchy, white, hospital blanket in order to preserve modesty.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, miss," he said, wavering in the doorway.
"No, you aren't. I mean... you didn't. Come in," she said, setting her phone down on the lap-tray beside her bed.
"My station captain brought me along to help with some paperwork and I thought I'd check up on you," he said. "I didn't think I would find you, really. I was sure they would have let you go home by now."
He stood a few feet from the bed with his hands behind his back respectfully.
"I'm glad you came to visit," she said, feeling a strange warmth in her chest at the sight of him. "Would you like to sit down?" she asked, motioning to the chair across the room. He went for the chair and positioned it beside her bed, then sat down.
"Are they treating you well, miss?" he asked.
"Please, call me Emily," she said. "I think I remember you fireman... Martin. Right?"
He nodded. "Your memory can't be hurt too bad."
"I guess not." She laughed. "Yes, Mr. Martin, they're treating me very well."
"Call me Avery," he said. He turned his attention to the tray of half-eaten food on her bed-side table. "I guess you don't have much of an appetite after the accident."
"No, I'm starving but the food here sucks," she said, bracing a hand over her empty stomach. She chuckled, even though it hurt to do so. As if she had commanded it, her stomach growled long and loud. Her face flushed red. Both of them burst into laughter. It hurt to laugh, but she couldn't help it. She found herself admiring his face again, which was even more gorgeous when it was lit up with a big smile.
"It sounds like it," he said, grinning. "Well, if you don't have any plans, how about I bring dinner back after I get off? I can be back around seven."
"Thanks; that'd be nice," she said, feeling heat in her cheeks. She couldn't believe she'd been offered dinner by a cute fireman who, hours before, had pulled her from a wreck. Could it be considered a date if it was eaten in an uncomfortable hospital room? "I definitely don't have any plans," she added, chuckling and rolling her eyes. "The doctors want to monitor me for a little while before sending me home. Apparently they don't want me to burn my apartment building down."
There was an awkward silence. Then, in one swift, tender motion she reached out her hand, locking eyes with him. He set his own rough one in hers and she squeezed it. "I want to thank you for not leaving me earlier," she said, her smile concealing years of unhappiness and loneliness.
That smile tugged at his heart. He couldn't remember the last time he'd really laughed with a woman or the last time he'd held a woman's hand.
"No problem," he answered. "Any idea what you'd like to eat?" he asked.
"I could go for a burger and Butterfinger shake from Steak N' Shake.” Her mouth watered at the mere idea.
“One of my favorites!" he said.
"Mine too!" she chimed. They both laughed awkwardly.
Captain Sullivan appeared in the doorway. "Hey there, Martin. Ready to go?" he asked, beaming at what he thought he was witnessing.
"Yes, sir." Avery said, standing upright.
"Hope you're well ma'am," said the captain. He appeared to be older than Avery, by maybe a decade with a head of auburn hair and a well-groomed mustache.
"I am. Thank you," she answered.
"Well," Avery said, turning his gorgeous green eyes to her, "I'll see you later then."
She nodded, smiling like a fool. She couldn't help but wonder at how she'd gotten so lucky.
On the other side of the door Avery pumped his fist in the air in a silent victory and headed for the elevators. Standing there at the doors waiting patiently for them to open, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to greet the owner of that hand, his good mood was shattered.
“Avery Martin, I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.” Quinn Daniels was a stunning woman; tall and slender with long brown hair and eyes to match. You could bounce a quarter off her ass, and she always looked impeccable. He had met the emergency room nurse through work two months ago when she was hired at Halifax Medical Center. After taking her out on a few dates, he decided she was more drama than she was worth. He had ridden off into the sunset praying she would forget all about him. Apparently his attempt had not worked.
“Hi Quinn, just dropping some paperwork off. I've be
en really busy with work," he lied. He didn't have it in him to give her the brutal truth. Avoiding confrontation at all cost was typically his motto. “I left my dog out in the truck though, so I gotta run but I will give you a call.” He all but ran into the elevator once the doors opened. My dog? I don't even have a dog!
Emily awoke from a nap to her sister Amelia sitting in the chair next to her bedside texting away on her cell phone. Her impeccably manicured fingers tapped the keys at a million miles an hour. “I was wondering when you were going to wake up,” she muttered as she punched a few more keys then tucked her phone into the side-pocket of her Coach bag.
“It has been a long day.” She let out a big yawn and pulled back the covers to get up from the bed. Though she didn't remember most of the people in her picture albums, she had not forgotten her parents or Amelia. What she had forgotten was that her parents had passed. When Emily asked where her parents were, Amelia had been caught entirely off-guard. Emily recalled the facts with fresh grief, but it had rescinded in the hours subsequent.
She freshened up while her sister chatted her up from the other side of the thin bathroom door. “I have a hot date tonight.” She laughed as she prepped her toothbrush.
“A date? What the hell kind of a date can you have in a place like this?” Amelia asked.
“This super hot fireman pulled me out of my car. He came to visit me today, and I actually remembered him, shocking right? He is coming back with some real food tonight, so you have to be gone before that takes place!”
Both women burst out laughing.
“The nurse came in while you were sleeping. They are going to let you out of here tomorrow. Since you don't have a car and I have to work, Ben is picking you up. If you're feeling up to it, he said he'd even take you car shopping.” Ugh Ben, Emily thought. He set her teeth on edge. She often ground her teeth when she was ultimately agitated.
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