Page 23 of Breakaway

“I think she’s running.”

Fuck. I should have thought of that possibility. “Why do you say that?”

“She left her sticks in my locker.”

“I’ll find her. Call Clark and let him know.”

“Turk, she doesn’t have a lot of money. No credit cards or a bank account. She’ll be walking or maybe try the bus terminal.”

“On it. Thanks, Sis.”

We passed the bus terminal on our way to the arena, so I head that direction first. Fates are with me. It doesn’t take long to see a woman with a duffel bag up ahead. Relief washes over me, until I witness her step into traffic.

“Cat!”

As if in slow-motion my brain analyzes the event before me. Rounding the corner the car was barely moving. Impact should have been minimal. She stepped off the curb and walked right into the rear passenger door. The slight forward movement was enough to push her to the ground and she lands on her back. By the time I get to her a crowd has surrounded her.

“Let me through. I’m a doctor. Let me through.”

The driver is yelling. “Is she ok? Is she ok? It’s not my fault. I had the right of way. She walked into me.”

I kneel beside her. Her duffle bag was on her back and hopefully cushioned her fall. “Cat. Cat, honey. It’s me. Look at me. Does anything hurt?”

Her eyes flicker open, tears gush out. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

She’s not talking about the accident. “Hush, babe. It’s all okay. Did you hit your head? Does anything hurt?”

“Everything hurts. I—I can’t do this anymore.”

“Lift your arms for me. Now your legs.” She responds to the command I put in my voice. “Any pain?”

“No.”

“Sit up for me?”

She shakes her head, tears still streaming. “I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. Just—just leave me. Let him find me.”

“That’s not an option. I’m going to take care of you.”

Sliding my arm under her shoulder, I get her into a sitting position. By the time I have her standing, she tearfully assures me she’s okay. Slinging her bag over my shoulder, I wrap my arm around her waist and lead her away from the dispersing crowd. “Do you need me to carry you?”

She shakes her head. “I have to go. I have to leave. The bus.”

“I know. I’m taking you.”

Selfishly taking advantage of her confusion, I get her into the parking garage and settled into my car. I shoot a quick textto Tatum and Clark that I have her and she’s riding with me. It’s not until I start the engine and pull out into traffic that she seems to take stock of where she is. “Turk, what are you doing? You can’t be with me. It’s—it’s not safe for you.”

“We’re going to fix that.”

“You don’t understand. It’s dangerous to be around me.”

I glance over at her. “I know about your brother. About Baylor. But this is not a conversation we’re having right now. Know that everyone is safe for tonight. We’ll talk when we get home. Right now, you need to rest. Lay the seat back and sleep. I’ll wake you when we get to the city.”

The fact that she complies says a lot about her mental state. Pulling into my underground parking slot at my building. I double check my security as well as the one for the building. I can’t say I’m surprised to see my father step out of the elevator once I’ve popped the trunk.

“I’ve got the bags, son. You get your girl.”

“Everything okay?”

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