Page 6 of Thea's Hero

My heart stutters.

But Ari has lots of friends. People from work. Just because Ian said it that way doesn’t mean it has to be…

I jab at the radio. “Thea? Is Thea hurt?” My jaw clenches, jolts of pain shooting down my neck. Tension bleeds through my voice. “Ian. Is it Thea?”

Willow flashes a concerned look at me.

Over the sound of sirens and commanding voices, Ian hesitates before responding. “Yeah.” Another pause. “How far out are you?”

I fall back against the passenger seat, my chest aching and tight. Icy fear seeps through my veins.

Not Thea.

Willow’s talking to Ian now, updating him on our progress. We’re three minutes out, which is three minutes too long.

“Drive faster,” I grit out, fully aware that Willow is driving as fast as she can, but my brain doesn’t want to listen to reason right now.

Not Thea. All the horrible possibilities assault me, images of the worst accidents I’ve seen but with sweet Thea’s face superimposed over the victims.

Shit.

What if she’s not okay? What if she’s—

No. She has to be okay. She has to.

Fear has its claws in me, digging and tearing, the pain throwing everything into terrible clarity.

Why didn’t I ask her out when I had the chance? Why did I keep hesitating?

All the times I brought Laila to the library over the last eight months, always lingering to talk to Thea, but I never asked her out.

I looked forward to seeing her bright smile and those big blue eyes and hearing all the interesting things she had to say, and I fantasized about touching her gorgeous brown curls, but I always had a reason to leave it at that.

I was too busy with Laila and my job and volunteering. It wouldn’t be right to saddle Thea with someone with so much relationship baggage. Maybe next month I’d feel more ready to try dating again.

And now—what if there isn’t a next month for Thea?

Flashing lights illuminate the road in front of us, fire trucks and police cars and—oh, shit—a car smashed into a large tree.

Thea’s car. Shit.

As we draw closer, I see two firefighters kneeling on the ground, administering first aid to the small figure laying between them.

Thea.

I feel sick.

The ambulance comes to a stop and I have to fight myself not to go sprinting over there.

I’ve responded to calls for people I’ve known—it’s inevitable in a small town like Sleepy Hollow—but there’s never been this desperate sense of urgency before.

Just as I’m reaching for the door handle, Willow touches my shoulder, drawing my attention back to her. Expression solemn, her gaze searches mine. “Are you okay to do this?”

I have to be.

“Yes.” I give her a jerky nod. “I’m good. Let’s go.”

Though it takes less than a minute to get our equipment out of the ambulance, it feels like an eternity. Adrenaline is coursing through my body, its effect so much more intense than on any other call. My heart is hammering, one word on repeat in my head. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

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