Page 23 of False Start

Even sickly pale, his cheeks turned faintly pink. “We were playing capture the flag with some kids. I was just defending our flag.”

“And you fell?” I blinked, shaking my head.

“I leaned out to get a better angle to shoot at them. They were wily.”

“I told you we should have played with that corporate retreat group.” Trent shook his head and stood up from the chair, rounding to the foot of the bed.

“So, it’s just a broken leg?” I asked, eyeing the sling. “They’re just going to throw it in a cast and let you go?”

Derek shared a look with Trent. A worried, secretive look.

Trent held up both hands. “I’m not getting involved in this.”

I closed my eyes with a groan. “What is it?”

“I broke my femur,” Derek said.

“Which means?”

“Don’t you work in a hospital?” Trent asked with a hint of levity that grated on my last nerve.

“I work in the lab. Why would I know what happens when you break your femur?” I turned back to Derek. “This is fine, actually. Are they going to keep you here overnight? Because I can head back to our place and grab your bag. The passenger seat in the Cougar pushes back pretty far and if that doesn’t work, you can just ride the rally from the backseat.”

Derek scrubbed his face. “I need surgery.”

My stomach dropped. “Surgery?”

“I fucked up my leg pretty bad.”

“Didn’t the surgeon use the word ‘shattered?’” Trent asked.

Derek closed his eyes with a sigh. “They need to fuse it back together, and then I’ll need to do some therapy. I can’t come on the rally, Kit.”

For the second time that night, a wave of nausea passed over me, and the room faded black. The next second, Trent was at my side, his arm wrapped around my waist in a surprisingly vise-like grip. I jerked away, shaking off the nausea with a deep breath. “I’m fine.”

Trent raised an eyebrow, keeping his hand extended towards me, but he didn’t reach for me again.

“No rally.” I raked a hand through my hair. “That’s fine. Do you want me to stay the night? I can go grab your bag and some clothes?—”

“You’re running the rally, Kit.” Derek’s voice was firm, his pallor shifting to a somewhat normal hue. “You’ve worked too hard.”

I shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. You’re hurt. Shit happens. It’s not like I can run it alone.”

Hell, most of the teams had three people, some even more. I couldn’t simultaneously drive and navigate. I’d need a secondperson, and I certainly didn’t know anyone capable of dropping everything to travel with me for the next five days.

Only I did. And judging by the encouraging smile on Derek’s face, he had already come to the same conclusion.

I winced, taking Derek’s hand and dropping my head onto his shoulder. “No.”

“Do you have another choice?” he murmured into my hair.

I inhaled cedar mixed with antiseptic. “Yeah. I don’t go. I stay and help you recover. It’s five days. What happens if they send you home? Who’s going to take care of you if I’m not around?”

Derek’s shoulder tensed underneath my forehead. I picked my head up to look him in the eye.

“I already thought of that. Gavin is going to help me out while you’re gone.”

“Gavin?” My nose wrinkled as I pulled away.

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