Page 148 of Rear View
They fanned out, circling us.
Ryah’s breath was warm on my neck, but it was rasped. Uneven. I set her onto the asphalt. “Help her.” I looked for Alec again. Ten feet to my left, he knelt, hands raised, palms up. His stare met mine. He nodded.
“FACE DOWN ON THE GROUND. HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”
That sharp pain cut through my side again and I doubled over. Blood leaked down, coating my lower half. My vision tracked in and outta focus. I swayed. “Just help her,” I said, then collapsed onto my chest next to my girl.
Wake up, darlin’. Let me see those eyes. Please.I reached for her. Was an inch away.
“Don’t move,” the officer approaching me said. She holstered her gun and dropped a knee onto my back. My arms were jerked behind me, and cold metal clamped over my wrists.
“They’re all bad,” she said. “Get EMS up here and check the other driver!”
“He’s dead,” another cop called, his tone flat.
Someone stabilized my neck, while that lady cop put pressure on my ribs.
“Help my girl.” Darkness crept in at the corner of my sight. “Help my girl,” I repeated, the words croaked.
“He’s losing blood here,” the lady cop yelled, then said something else, but it faded out, and so did my consciousness. A second later, my eyes closed. And the world went black.
Chapter Forty-One
Xavier
Fuuuck. My head drummed like someone had beat it with a torque wrench. A loud beep cut through the thumping.
I opened my eyes. Fluorescent lights buzzed and tinked above me, making the room too damn bright. Everything hurt: my back, shoulder, knees. I grunted when I tried to shift but my arm came up short. The clank of metal had my head turning.
I frowned at the cuffs locked around my right arm, latching me to the bed rail—a hospital bed.
Hospital? Why the hell am I in the hospital?
My eyes flew wide, my head snapping around as I scanned the room.“Ryah!”
The cop standin’ guard by the door mean-mugged me as he hooked his thumbs into his service belt, while some older guy I didn’t recognize took up a chair in the corner.
I sat up with a shot, my head spinning from the move. “Where’s Ryah?” I said, the words thick as hell. “Where’s my girl?”
That old guy pushed up, his dress shoes tapping over the floor as he adjusted his suit coat and closed in. “I’mglad to see you’re awake, Mr. Bosch. My name’s Officer Maynard. I have a few questions for you to answer.”
The name was familiar, and when it clicked why, my jaw locked down. “The dick who ignored my girl when she asked for help?”
Maynard’s brow dropped low while he scowled and pulled out a notepad and pen.
Dude must’ve thought I was stupid. But I’d learned a few things since my first go-round with the law. “I ain’t answerin’ shit for you. Now where’s my fuckin’ girl?”
“Unfortunately, as this investigation is ongoing”—his mouth tugged in a fake-as-hell smile—“I can’t disclose that information.”
Prick!
Glancing down, I eyed the hospital gown I’d been strapped into, then the cuts and gashes along my forearms. My clothes were gone. “I need my phone.”
“It’s been confiscated as evidence.”
My jeans…the key chain. “Can I use one here? Make a call?”
He shook his head. “No. And no visitors either.”
