Page 79 of Death and Donuts

Cross tugged on my hand to gain my attention.

“Let’s get you home.”

We sat in the car, and after waiting for Pam to pull out of the lot first, I followed her onto the road and turned toward the pack house.

Cross took my hand from the steering wheel to kiss it. “I prefer kissing you after you’ve baked. Your scent is as sweet as you are.”

“Are you saying I stink after my shift?” I asked with a laugh. Because after a night of hustling, I knew I wasn’t the freshest bun on the rack.

“I love all your scents,” Cross said. “Especially?—”

Glass exploded inward from Cross’ window as a car t-boned us at an intersection with a green light. The impact whipped me against my door. My head smashed into the window.

My vision blurred with the blinding pain, and a high-frequency ringing filled my ears as the car came to a standstill. Dazed, I brushed glass off my shirt and wiped my face. My fingers came away bloody.

I blinked at the wet redness and then looked over at Cross. He was slumped at an odd angle in his seat, his door having crumpled in on him. Blood ran from a large cut on the side of his face, which was turned toward me.

“Cross?” I could barely hear myself over the ringing in my ears and touched his face with my bloody hand without thinking.

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t open them.

“Cross, please…” I said louder.

My door was ripped open, and someone grabbed my arm. Energy swelled from my necklace. It surged through my skin like a barrier and knocked the person off their feet, sending them flying back twenty yards.

The thumping in my head grew more pronounced, and my vision swam as I looked from the prone body to Cross.

“We have to go.” I reached for him again, aiming for his arm but touching his face instead. My feeble attempt left a bloody smear across his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open as my vision tunneled.

I felt Cross hold my hand even as someone grabbed my other arm again. Another wave of energy spread as the necklace protected me. Cross’ lips brushed my fingers.

A low growl, almost drowned out by the ringing in my ears, filled the car. Metal groaned.

Then Cross was at my door, gently lifting me out of my seat. He pressed his lips to my temple, and I felt his tongue. He saidsomething I couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. Cross was awake and had me. Everything would be fine.

That thought evaporated when he took off. My stomach roiled at the sudden speed at which he moved, and I gagged. His mouth returned to my head as everything went dark briefly.

Whether it was the blank spaces in my consciousness or the fact that Cross ran fast, we were inside a building in a matter of minutes.

A hotel.

Over the ringing in my ears, I heard Cross’ deep voice issuing orders for towels and clothing.

The next time I blinked my eyes open, he was holding me in a shower.

“Hang in there,” Cross murmured, pressing his lips against my temple again. The stroke of his tongue stung at first, but as the burn eased, the darkness reclaimed me.

I woke up in Cross’arms. The sunlight made my eyes water, and my head hurt, so I closed my eyes and snuggled closer to Cross.

“Morning, sunshine,” he said. “How do you feel?”

My head ached. So did my neck and my left shoulder. A lot.

“Like roadkill.” Then I remembered why and winced, which made my head pound harder.

“I stopped the bleeding and healed the wounds,” he said. “That won’t help any bruising, though. I’m afraid I’m only good at healing cuts.”

---