Page 108 of S.O.S. Billboard

Smartly, the guy backed off.

Gently, he laid O’Shea down, noticing even in the dark how pale her skin was. His vibrant O’Shea. Biting back a sob that inadvertently rose to his throat, he bent and kissed the one spot on her cheek that didn’t look damaged.

“You’re going to be fine, O’Shea,” Billboard told her, even though she couldn’t hear him.

He stood, and when they began wheeling his woman toward the ambulance, he trotted along beside it.

“Are you related?” one of the paramedics asked.

Billboard knew where this was going, and clenched his fists. There was no way he was going to stand here and watch them drive off with his heart.

“It’s okay,” a female voice clipped from behind Billboard. “He’s clear to accompany her.”

Billboard turned to see Agent Vessers approaching, and gave her a thankful nod.

“Right. Just don’t get used to the preferential treatment,” she barked at him. “This is a one-time only perk, you got me?”

“Did you call my name, Agent Vessers?” Perk trotted up, and if his tongue had been hanging out, Billboard wouldn’t have been surprised. He resembled nothing more than a rambunctious puppy looking for a treat.

“Not even close,” Vessers responded curtly, then spun on her heal and walked back toward the action where her fellow agents were amassed. Perkins followed, seemingly undeterred.

Billboard, under other circumstances, would have loved to witness additional interaction between the pair, but he had places to be.

He strode off after the gurney, ducking in through the back doors of the emergency vehicle just before they closed.

****

What was with the lights? Seriously? It had to be the middle of the night because O’Shea’s brain felt like mush, which meant she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep.

“Turn off the lights,” she whined, or at least that’s what she meant to say. It came out more like, “Trmmovalipes.”Fuck. She really was out of it.

“O’Shea?”

She knew that voice. Well, now at least she knew where she was. She’d obviously spent the night at Billboard’s again. O’Shea attempted to smile, and…

“Uhh.”

Why did her face hurt so much?

“Shh. Don’t try to move,” Billboard told her. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve been beat up pretty badly.”

Well, that accounted for the pain.Andthe obnoxious, overhead lights.

“What…?”

Had the word come out right?

It must have because Billboard didn’t hesitate to answer her.

“A concussion. Lots of cuts and contusions. Three broken ribs, and they’ve casted a dislocated ankle,” he enumerated.

Wow. It must have been some car accident she’d…

Shit.It hadn’t been an accident at all.

Memories flooded back into her head. She’d been roughed up and brought to Jakes’ house, dragged into the basement, then beat to shit for the combination to the safe. Which she’d given to them. Eventually. And incorrectly. She’d needed to waste as much time so the team had a chance to…

Oh, crap. Theyhadfound her, and she’d tried to take Billboard out with a chair.

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