Page 97 of Thornhill Road

He didn’t even let her finish before he barked, “Need the keys to your cage. Give ‘em to Tess and tell her to meet me outside.Now.”

I was on my feet in an instant, my heart rate picking up speed in response to the tone of his voice.

As Winnie began digging in her purse for her key fob, she asked, “Is everything—?”

“Fuck, no,” Mustang interrupted again. “It’s MK.”

Neither of us even noticed when he disconnected, the two of us staring at each other, suspended in a moment of terror, the possibilities of what that could mean unending and unfathomable. The fact that he needed Winnie’s car—that whatever was happening was so urgent we couldn’t take five minutes to go get his truck—made my belly ache.

It was Winnie who broke free of our shared moment of shock first, continuing her dig before she produced the key.

“Here,” she said, standing and thrusting it at me. “Go, go.”

I practically lunged across the small office, snatched her offering, then sprinted for the door.

Mustang

“I need an ambulance,”he spoke into his phone, relaying what little information he knew and the address of the emergency. Tess came running toward him as he yelled, “I don’t fuckin’ know! I’m on my way there. Just send an ambulance.”

Dispatch let him know an ambulance would be on its way, and he didn’t bother to listen to anything else as he disconnected the call.

“Babe?” asked Tess, holding out the key.

He grabbed it, shoving it into his pocket as he changed direction, headed for Winnie’s SUV. He hadn’t answered theinquiry found in that one word greeting, but Tess didn’t miss a step as she hurried alongside of him. Less than ten seconds later, they were in the car. Mustang didn’t bother with a seatbelt but started the engine and gunned it out of the parking lot.

Tess braced but didn’t speak a word in protest.

“Fuckin’ done,” he muttered. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel and repeated, “Fuckin’, fuckin’done.”

And he meant it.

'Mustang, she’s not waking up. She’s not waking up!'

He replayed his brief, panicked exchange with Trix, then pressed his foot down harder on the gas.

It took five minutes to get to Trix’s apartment.

The fastest he’d ever made it was three.

That afternoon, he was there in two.

He came to an abrupt halt as he parked, jumping out of the driver’s seat with the vehicle still running. He made his journey to Trix’s door at a jog.

His Tess kept pace, following after him, still not uttering a word.

When he reached the right unit, he tried the handle, but the door was locked.

He didn’t bother knocking.

He kicked twice, and the old, wooden frame cracked around the barrier, allowing it to fly open.

His heart dropped when he saw MK, sprawled unconscious on the floor, her head in Trix’s lap.

“Oh, my god,” breathed Tess.

It was the only voice he registered before both of them raced toward his girl.

He was there first, lifting MK’s small frame into his arms. She was light, even in her unconscious state, and Mustang felt her precious fragility as profoundly as he had the first time he ever held her in his arms.

---