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Outspoken Angel

Page 16

by Mia Dymond


  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she uttered. “Max wouldn’t be caught dead shopping, let alone shopping for shoes.”

  Damn. Max slapped his hands against the steering wheel. Of course she couldn’t go straight to the house. No, that would be too easy. He glanced up at the gigantic red and white sale sign and cursed again. What the woman saw in shoes he’d never know. Sighing heavily, he parked in a secluded spot to wait.

  Seconds felt like minutes as they ticked by, his frustration increased. Squinting, he scanned the length of the parking lot. Not impressed by the crowd of people shopping, he stepped out of the truck and inched his way to the employees’ entrance under cover of the shadows of the afternoon sun.

  Once inside, he spotted Cameron and Rachel immediately near the Louis Vuitton display. He patted himself on the back when he remembered those were Cameron’s favorite. He eased back against a corner rack and settled in to wait them out.

  Cameron giggled as she slipped another pump on her foot. “Bigfoot on your left.”

  Rachel lifted her head. “Where?”

  “Don’t look!” Cameron scolded. “He’s in the far corner by the employees’ entrance.”

  “Should we say hi?”

  “Nah, let’s have him paged.”

  Rachel balanced several shoe boxes against her protruding midsection. “Somehow I don’t think he’d respond.”

  “Oh, he’d respond, alright,” Cameron argued as she juggled her own purchases, “but only to cause a scene.”

  “Be nice, Cameron,” Rachel scolded playfully.

  Cameron couldn’t help but smile as she and Rachel walked back to the car. The day just got better and better. A shoe sale always made her happy, and even Max’s tagging along couldn’t dampen her spirits.

  Cameron squeezed the button on her remote to unlock the car doors. The ear-piercing yelp of the unlocked signal echoed off the dry, humid afternoon as she popped the trunk and stowed their loot inside. Once inside the car, she noticed Rachel’s strawberry-red face flash discomfort from the passenger seat. Cameron started the car and blasted the air conditioner.

  “It’s too hot to lower the top,” she said, fastening her seatbelt.

  Rachel adjusted the vents to blow cool air on her face. “Trust me, it’s even hotter than you think.”

  Cameron pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward the house located just outside the city limits. The traffic lightened as they neared the edge of town which made Max a prominent fixture in her rearview mirror.

  Cameron pressed harder on the gas pedal. “I’m going to lose Max.”

  Rachel gave a half laugh. “I don’t think anybody can lose Max.”

  “Watch me,” she said, determined to do just that.

  She checked the rearview mirror and changed lanes twice before she glanced into the mirror again, disappointed to see Max’s driving lights wink at her. Gliding up to a stop sign, she pushed the brake pedal all the way to the floor before she coasted to a rolling stop.

  Cameron frowned and pumped the pedal again, relieved when the car came to a complete stop.

  “Problem?” Rachel asked.

  Cameron gave her a confident smile. “No, guess I’m a little low on brake fluid.” She accelerated and kept her pace.

  The arrogant sports car topped a hill and picked up speed as it raced down the other side. Anticipating the upcoming curves, Cameron smashed the brake pedal with one Louis Vuitton peep toe heel. The car smirked and continued its outrageous pace. She tapped the pedal a few more times.

  “Cameron, don’t you think you should slow down?” Rachel suggested meekly. “This road is dangerous if you’re going too fast.”

  Cameron squashed the brake pedal on the floor. “I’m trying, Rachel! The car won’t stop, or even slow down!”

  “What about the emergency brake?” Rachel braced one hand against the door and placed the other hand over her stomach.

  Cameron’s ears rang as she yanked the emergency brake. The lever clicked in the chilling tenseness, unable to convince the rebellious sports car to slow down.

  “The brakes aren’t working at all, Rachel,” she said helplessly. “We’re going to crash.”

  Determined to minimize the impending damage, Cameron steered off the road onto the grass, hoping to distract the car from its race. The thick grass hugged the spinning tires and slowed the car somewhat, but not before a clump of trees appeared directly in its path.

  Cameron made a last minute decision and cut the wheel so that her side of the car collided with the trunk of the nearest tree. An evil hissing resounded in the baited silence that followed.

  “Max,” she murmured as the blackness swallowed her.

  Max cursed as he matched Cameron’s speed, concerned when she didn’t attempt to slow down. The curves ahead would swallow her at the speed she traveled. Ice spread through his stomach as he tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. Something had to be wrong. Cameron was carefree, not careless, especially where Rachel was concerned.

  His heart stopped as he helplessly watched the shiny silver bullet leave the road, spin twice, and then sideswipe a tree before coming to a dead stop. Smoke flew from his tires as he skidded to a stop and jumped out of the truck as soon as he jammed it into park. He swallowed the nausea in his throat at the sight of twisted metal and concentrated on dialing 911 from his cell phone.

  His shoulders heaved as he forced himself to stay calm. He approached the car cautiously, oddly relieved to see Rachel frantically fighting her seatbelt and screaming Cameron’s name.

  “Rachel, calm down,” he ordered.

  “Max! My seatbelt is jammed. Get me out and check on Cameron. She won’t answer me.”

  Max jerked on the metal door handle, only to find it stuck. He braced his left foot against the side of the car and pulled on the door with all his strength. The door croaked and moaned, then came loose in his bulky grip.

  “Try to relax.” He kept his voice low with deceptive calmness.

  He pulled a knife from his boot and sliced through her seatbelt with steady hands, thankful the airbags deployed.

  “Are you hurt?” He ran his hands over Rachel’s arms and legs, checked her eyes for dilation and felt her head for bumps, bruises or cuts.

  “I’m fine. Just see about Cameron,” Rachel said meekly, obviously distraught by her unresponsiveness.

  Max carried Rachel to his truck, placed her in the seat and handed her his cell phone.

  “Call Hawke. I already called 911.” He left her dialing and ran back to Cameron.

  He crawled through the passenger side and placed two fingers against Cameron’s creamy neck. The strong, steady pulse throbbed at his touch. He exhaled. What he wouldn’t give to hear her smart mouth sass him right now.

  “Cameron! Talk to me. Wake up, Sweetheart.” He tried to nudge her awake.

  Not knowing where she was hurt, he was afraid to touch her. He brushed his fingers cautiously over the cuts on her forehead and her left arm from the broken glass. With one smooth flick of his wrist, he cut her seatbelt loose and punctured a hole in the airbag.

  “Max?” she whispered as her eyes fluttered open, and then closed again. “Get me out of here.”

  “I wish I could, but it looks like we’ll have to wait for the fire department. Where do you hurt?”

  She moaned. “Everywhere. Rachel? Where’s Rachel?” Her eyes flew open as she began to panic and struggle to escape her steel cage. “Is she okay? What about the baby?”

  “Easy there, Tiger, you’re stuck under the steering column. Rachel is fine. She’s in my truck.” He stroked her forehead with his index finger. “Why did you take this tree out anyway?”

  “My brakes wouldn’t work, not even the emergency brake.”

  She reached up to touch her head and flinched as he backed out of the car.

  “Don’t leave me!” she shrieked. “Where are you going?”

  He laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just going to look under the car for a second
.”

  “Why? Is there a gas leak? I’m going to blow up, aren’t I?”

  “No, Baby, I won’t let that happen. I just want to check out something before the car is moved. I’ll be right back.”

  “Hurry!”

  Max squatted next to the passenger side of the car and looked underneath. Other than tangled metal, nothing appeared unusual. He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the gas tank still intact and no visibly severed hoses or wires. So why couldn’t she stop?

  Boisterous sirens echoed in the distance and prompted him to save his analysis for later. He slid from beneath the car and heard Cameron whimper from the driver’s seat.

  He stood and walked around to the driver’s side. “I’m here.”

  In an effort to keep her calm, he squeezed her hand through the window. Cameron opened one eye, rolled her head toward him, and then raised her free hand to smooth his wrinkled brow.

  His self control wavered at her slight touch. “Your hands are cold.”

  Before she could speak, a firefighter appeared at the window.

  “Cameron? It’s Rick. Need a little more practice with those curves?”

  Max bit his lip. As bad as he hated to admit it, humor just might keep her calm. Even if it was Fireman Rick.

  “Funny, Rick. Hurry up and get me out of here.”

  “Working on it now,” Rick assured her.

  Rick handed Max a blanket. “Put this over both of you to protect you from the glass when we use the Jaws of Life.”

  Max opened the heavy blanket and draped it over Cameron.

  “I don’t suppose you’d get out of the way and let us handle this?” Rick asked.

  Max raised an eyebrow and sneered.

  Rick shook his head. “Didn’t think so.”

  Max knelt on the ground next to the car and ducked his head under the blanket. He took Cameron’s hand in his.

  “Okay,” Rick shouted, “here we go.”

  Max squeezed Cameron’s fingers in support as the sound of metal against metal filled the air. “Just a few more minutes,” he said over the noise.

  Max breathed a sigh of relief when the obnoxious noise stopped and the crew peeled the convertible’s top back.

  “Okay, Cameron.” Rick lifted the blanket. “We’re going to remove the steering column now. Try to relax and take deep breaths.”

  Max inhaled and prepared for her response. If her legs were broken, she’d really feel it now.

  Once the steering wheel popped free, he heard her exhale loudly before she began to struggle to break out.

  “Don’t move. They need to get a collar on you and put you on the gurney.” He hoped like hell he had disguised the quiver in his voice.

  Silently, he cursed himself. He could have lost her today. Some bodyguard. It was a whole lot easier guarding a rock star and a whole band than this one tiny package of dynamite.

  Cameron batted Rick’s hands as he tried to fit her with a neck collar. “I don’t want that ugly thing around my neck, and I want you to take me to the ER, Max. I want to be with Rachel.”

  “She’s going in the other ambulance,” he explained. “You are going to do what they tell you.”

  He braced himself for another tantrum. Instead, she rolled her neck to the side and sighed. “Okay, Maxie. If you say so.”

  His brow furrowed at her quick agreement. No argument? Hell, she must be hurt.

  “Let’s go,” he bellowed.

  “Are you her husband, sir?” The paramedic asked, as Max stalked towards the ambulance.

  Max considered his response for a short moment before he answered. “No.”

  “Then you can’t ride in the ambulance. You’ll have to follow us.”

  Tempted to change the paramedic’s mind, Max checked his anger and hopped in his truck.

  Max slapped both open palms against the steering wheel as he followed the ambulance to the hospital. Sonuvabitch, his heart hurt. He didn’t want to analyze why Cameron threw him off balance, but after having tasted what it was like to love her, he didn’t need an analysis. No more bullshit. She possessed his heart – all four chambers, squeezed in the grip of her tiny little fist. His whole body vibrated with tension as he mentally fumbled to figure out what to do next.

  * * *

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Members of his security team met Max at the Emergency Room entrance of Diablo Memorial Hospital with information that Rachel had already been admitted and her room was secure. After he gave them explicit instructions to park his truck and then meet him at Rachel’s room with a clean t-shirt, Max gave the admissions clerk information on Cameron and then followed her to the cubicle where Cameron had been assigned.

  Alarm shot up his spine as he saw her lying on the cot, her skin made even more pale by the white sheets and her face several different shades of blue and purple. For once in his very reserved, insanely controlled, unemotional life, Max wanted to cradle her like a baby. Instead, he took a very deep breath, stepped near her, and squeezed her hand, partly to reassure her and mostly to reassure himself that she was really in one piece.

  Thanks to Huntington’s phone call to the Emergency Room before Cameron and Rachel arrived, the rooming process was quick and discreet. Keeping Cameron from climbing the walls, however, would be almost impossible.

  She rolled her head toward him and gave him a small smile. “Max?”

  “Yeah,” he grunted.

  “Turn on the light so I can see what they’re doing to me.”

  “The light is on.”

  “Fabulous!” She threw her arms into the air and then groaned. “I’m blind.”

  “You’re not blind, Lone Ranger.” He smoothed her curls from her face.

  “Then why is it so dark in here?” she fussed.

  “Your eyes are swollen. Just relax. The nurse went to get ice.”

  “What about Rachel?”

  “She and the baby are fine. Hawke said they’re going to keep her overnight just to be sure.”

  “What about my car?”

  “Totaled.”

  “My shoes?”

  “Your shoes?”

  She wiggled her bare feet. “Yes, I’m pretty sure I had a pair of shoes on this morning. Louis Vuitton to be exact. Both of them black with an ankle strap.”

  He chuckled under his breath. He didn’t have the heart to tell her she’d broken one of them in two when she’d jammed the heel under the brake pedal.

  “I’ll take you back to Bergmann’s tomorrow.”

  She attempted to squint one eye. “You hate to shop.”

  He shrugged. If she only knew how she’d scared the holy living hell out of him, she wouldn’t be surprised at his gesture. Now that he was convinced she was not badly injured, he’d promise her the world to ease her pain.

  She pushed herself to sit. “This hospital gown doesn’t work for me. Do you see my clothes anywhere?”

  He glanced at a brown paper sack beside the bed and thought back to the tight black skirt and silk blouse she’d worn earlier. No way would she be able to squeeze her muscles back into them.

  Desperate to make her more comfortable, he pulled off his t-shirt and handed it to her. “Here.”

  She took the shirt from him and then tipped her head to the side. “This isn’t my blouse.”

  “Just put it on, Cupcake.”

  She attempted to squint again. “Are you shirtless now?”

  He snickered. “You really can’t see?”

  “No,” she huffed. “I feel like a Siamese cat with cataracts.” She bunched the t-shirt with her fingers and grimaced when she attempted to raise it over her head.

  “Let me help.” He grabbed it and poked her head through the top. “Can you shake the gown loose?”

  She wiggled her shoulders slightly until the hospital gown slid down her arms. He licked his lips as she lifted each arm and gave her bare breasts a sweet eye-catching bounce.

  “What about my bottom?” She eased the black cotton over her curve
s until it met her hips.

  He felt a muscle tick at the base of his jaw. “Huh?”

  “I need pants. I can’t run around in what I’ve got on.”

  His breath left his lungs in a whoosh. At least she had something on.

  “I’ll go see if they’ve got a pair of scrubs.”

  Five minutes later, he helped her into them, and once he caught a glimpse of the scrap of lace she wore over her hips, he found himself shamelessly wanting to help her out of them.

  “Good news, Mrs. Tremaine,” the doctor announced as he and his nurse returned to the cubicle with Cameron’s x-rays. “Nothing is broken. Just some nasty bruises.”

  Although relieved by the doctor’s diagnosis, Max felt a little uneasy at the way the nurse ogled his chest. Good thing Cameron’s eyes were swollen or he’d never hear the end of it.

  “So I’ll look like Zorro for awhile,” Cameron drawled.

  “Afraid so,” the doctor agreed. “Apply ice for the next twenty-four hours and I’ll give you something for pain.”

  Cameron flinched as the nurse pressed a cold pack against each eye.

  The doctor glanced at Max. “You’ll need to wake her every hour for the next twenty-four hours.”

  Max nodded as the doctor handed him Cameron’s prescription before he and the nurse left the cubicle.

  “He thinks we’re sleeping together,” Cameron grumbled.

  “We are,” he said nonchalantly. “Besides, he thinks we’re married.”

  “Married?” she squealed behind her ice packs.

  “Sshhh!” he hissed. “They only allow family back here and the way you look at me, there’s no way I’d pass for your brother.”

  She lowered the ice packs. “What about my father?”

  “Watch it.”

  “You’re the man, Max.” She tossed the ice packs to the side and swung her feet over the side of the gurney. “Take me to see Rachel.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He helped her into a wheelchair.

 

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