Page 42 of Force Play

“Can you come get me?”

My throat thickens at the utter defeat in her voice. She sounds worse than she did after she and Bri broke up.

She doesn’t have to ask twice. I’m up and out of bed pulling on a shirt and grabbing my duffle bag for the stadium in case I don’t have time to come back.

“I’m on my way. Where are you?” Her breathing is labored as she rattles off the name of a recreation area that I recognize. “That’s close. It’ll take me maybe ten minutes. Are you okay?”

“No. My ankle is messed up. But I’m going to work my way down the trail. I just need to grab my bike and I’ll meet you at the parking lot—”

“Sit down,” I bark, interrupting her. “Find a rock and wait. What trail are you on? I’ll come up to get you.”

“But I have my bike.”

“Leave it, I’ll buy you a new one.” My tone softens as I open the garage and jump into the truck.

“That’s not happening,” she argues back and dammit, I wish she was mine so I could fuck that sass right out of her. There’s no telling how badly she’s actually hurt. The stubborn streak that runs through her is as wide as the Rockies and is going to have her downplaying her injury.

“Then I’ll carry you and it. Just don’t fucking move.” When she doesn’t agree right away, my patience grows thin. “Understood?”

“Yes.”

“I prefer a ‘yes, sir,’ but that works.” Concern has me pushing the gas pedal down. She must be in bad shape if she’s not going to snap back at me for that.

She stays on the phone while I drive but doesn’t say much other than giving me short answers about what happened and where she is. When I pull into the parking lot, I take off at a run uphill toward the trail.

“Indie!” I call as I get to an area she described.

“Here,” she says, drawing my eye to where she’s tucked into a corner, her ass in the dirt and her ankle propped up on a rock.

“Shit, Baby.” The term of endearment I’ve only used with her once slips out when I see the mottled red skin around her swollen ankle.

“It’s not that bad.” When she shifts her position, the wince on her face says otherwise.

“Let’s get you out of here and to a doctor to check it out.” Squatting down next to her I drape her arm around my neck, carefully helping her up.

“That’s not happening. No doctor.”

Arguing with her won’t get us anywhere, and right now, I need to get her out of here and find ice for her ankle.

“You’re not really in a position to fight me right now.”

“I hate you.” But even as she says it, she lets her head fall to my shoulder giving me more of her weight. Exhaustion makes her body sag, as the adrenaline from her accident ebbs.

“No, you don’t, but it’s okay. I like the idea of role playing with you.”

“How do you plan to get me and my bike out of here?”

“Vampire style. Let’s go spider monkey.”

“As long as you promise not to bite me.”

“But you like it when I—” If looks could kill. “Noted, not in the mood.”

“How come that’s never worked before?”

“Call it a hunch, but it seems like you have enough to deal with. Now, where is your bike?” She points to where it’s wedged upside down between a few tree branches. “That’s a funny place to park a bike.”

It’s everything I hoped it would be when she weakly chuckles against my chest. “Why don’t you just take a load off for a second while I fish that out for you?” Easing her on to the rock she had her ankle propped up on, I hop over the brush to get her bike. With it out of the pickers, I prop it against a tree and help her on to my back. Reaching behind me with one arm I support her as much as I can so she doesn’t jostle her leg too much.

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