Page 13 of Wanted

My hand curls into a fist on the denim stretched over my thigh. “I see a way to get you to the hospital. But if you prefer the four-wheeler…” I shift into reverse.

“Wait! Okay. Damn. I’ll get into your van.”

“The alternative might have been a little bumpy,” I grumble quietly.

Her hips scoot forward, pulling her into the handlebars and away from my lap. I’m not sure if she’s attempting to get up or putting much-needed distance between us. I wipe my sweat-slickened palms on my jeans before I do something stupid like pick her up again.

“The alternative is climbing into a sketchy kidnapper van with a guy who found me alone in the woods. I feel like this is the opening scene to about a hundred different horror movies and true crime shows.”

“Sorry, we all can’t drive luxury sports cars.” I hop off the ATV with a little too much force, sending the shocks bouncing. I turn just in time to catch her grimace. Her mouth flattens into a tight, white line.

“Actually, this is more my style. I just don’t trust you any more than the last guy.”

The passenger door interrupts the conversation with an ominous creak. Frankie grabs the handle and begins to pull herself in while I hover like a fretting mother in case she slips.

“Is the last guy the one that made you bleed on your dress?” I lock eyes with her, then pull away before she can answer and I get lost in her stare. “Be right back.”

The few minutes away to let Ashe into the house and lock up allows me to clear my head. Forcing answers out of her will only satisfy my own curiosity. What’s it to me why she wound up on my property? I think I can make a fairly accurate and educated guess.

The focus should be on getting her out of here, dropping her at the hospital, and carrying on with my life. Her confusing circumstances are none of my business.

One of my brothers would have swooped in and played the savior part, but I don’t have the inclination to pretend that I have the first fucking clue how to be a shining knight on a white horse.

She’s silent as I hop into my seat and remains that way the entire drive to the hospital. The friction of the tires against the pavement plays us a monotonous tune.

I pull the van beneath the shade of the emergency overhang and shift into park.

“Thanks for the ride. I think I can take it from here,” Frankie says.

“I’ll walk you inside.”

“That’s not necessary. I didn’t injure my legs.”

I already have my door open, but I turn in my seat. “Did you hurt your head?”

Her brief pause is enough for me to swing my legs around and jump out. “I’ll walk you inside,” I order, then shut the door before she can argue.

She meets me on the sidewalk, shoulders held rigid with attitude and jaw tight with what I can only assume is an ass-chewing about her independence. But she doesn’t know I grew up with a mom and a sister who don’t take shit from anybody. Nancy and Cortney Powell are two of the most independent women I’ve ever met, and they’ve both taught me that even the strongest women need help despite being too stubborn to ask for it.

I bite back the threatening lip twitch as we enter the emergency room. The place is nearly deserted. Besides a mom rocking her toddler on her lap in the waiting area, the only people here are behind the front desk.

“Jude?”

The familiar voice ensnares my attention.

“Whitney.” I greet Jack’s fiancée. I looked right past her face on my initial scan. Her eyes flick curiously between Frankie and me.

“Everything okay?”

I jerk my head in Frankie’s direction. “She needs to get checked out.” I slap my palm on the counter for good measure and take a large step back. “Broken arm. Head. The full workup.”

“I’ve got it from here.” Frankie steps to the left as if she could possibly block me from view. The soiled gown swishes at her ankles and sends a jab to my chest.

Christ, what possibly has to happen to a woman, on her wedding day no less, for her to wind up at a hospital in a bloodied, torn dress?

“Good.” My fingers relocate to the back of my neck. “I’ll just get out of here, then.”

“Hold up a second,” Whitney says, a finger waving in the air. “I have a question if you don’t mind waiting.”

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