Page 18 of Bad Ruck

I tapped on the door before pushing it open and stepping into the other.

"Shit."

Chapter Seven

Chelsea

Frost grabbedmy hand before I skidded on the pool deck. He didn't tell me to slow down, or make a joke about running beside the pool. Instead, he kept me upright and trotted with me into the change area.

My heart in my throat, I pushed the door open.

Atlas and Storm crouched beside Dallas, who sat slumped on the floor in the corner. His face was covered in blood, his hazel eyes staring without seeing.

"Is he—" Frost started.

"He's alive," Storm said. "I'm not a doctor, but I think he's in shock."

I stepped over carefully and knelt down in front of him. "Dallas? Are you okay?"

Slowly, slowly he lifted his head and looked at me. At first, his eyes were vacant. Gradually, recognition dawned.

He launched himself at me, wrapping his arms around my neck. His whole body shook.

I clung on to him, trying to keep from being pushed over backwards. He was heavy and his grip was desperate. I hung on until his trembling started to abate. Keeping him close and occasionally whispering soft, soothing words.

"Chelsea," he groaned.

"I'm right here." I ran a hand up and down his back. "It's okay. Are you all right? What happened?"

"Chelsea," he said again. "She came at me."

"Who came at you?" I asked gently.

I could have been talking to a child who accidentally did something wrong and was terrified of being punished for it. I reminded myself he was anything but a child. Whatever happened, we'd deal with it.

He leaned back just enough to look me in the eyes. Close enough our noses were almost touching.

"Ramsey told me to talk to India," he whispered. "To pretend I was working with him and Otis Skinner." He frowned. "I don't think he's working with Otis Skinner." He seemed confused.

"He's not," I said, as reassuring as I could. "You made it to Flirts then?"

"Yeah." His expression and tone were vague, like he couldn't quite recall if he had or not. "I did. I was supposed to go to the animal shelter." He looked slightly frantic now, like he realised he was running late and was about to get up and bolt for the door.

"It's okay, we took care of it," I said quickly. "The PR is done."

"Oh." He relaxed a fraction. "I'm sorry, I should have been there."

"Why weren't you?" Atlas asked. "What did India say?"

Dallas tipped his head back to look up at him.

"She agreed to tell Otis I was there, and that Ramsey gave us both a job to do," Dallas said slowly. "Then—" He shook his head, brushing the tip of his nose over mine.

"Then what?" I gripped his back and held him carefully, silently telling him I'd support him no matter what he had to say.

"She thought I left," he said. "But there was something about her. It seemed… Off. I was going to leave, but I stayed to listen. She was talking to someone else."

"Who?" Atlas asked.

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