Page 7 of Ariana's Hero

“Miss Quinn has given me permission to speak with you about her condition. She’s obviously suffering from some pretty serious abrasions and bruises from when she hit the road. Her wrist is sprained, but not broken. Overall”—he gives me a little smile—“she’s very lucky. She’ll have to take it easy for a few weeks, but she should make a full recovery.”

Another person talking about how luckyAri is.

In the big picture of things, I guess so.

But drugged and stuffed in a trunk, forced into leaping from a moving car? Fleeing through the woods, terrified and hurting? That doesn’t sound very lucky to me.

“Can I see her now?”

He nods at me. “Yes, Miss Quinn is in exam room three. A nurse will come by with discharge papers soon.”

I’m already moving before he finishes talking. Being a paramedic, I’ve spent my fair share of time in the hospital and I know the emergency room well. When I get to her room, I pause in the doorway, not wanting to go rushing inside and startle her.

She looks up immediately, relief washing across her features. “Cash.”

I’m at her side in an instant, gritting my teeth as I take in her injuries again. Obviously, I saw them before, but in this sterile environment, with Ari looking so small and wounded, in too-big scrubs and bandages all over, it’s another kick to the chest.

“How are you feeling, hun?” I lean in to inspect her, checking the small scratches scattered across her pale face.

“Those are from the trees,” she explains softly. “When I was running.”

Running from the asshole who stuck her in a trunk.Fuck.

“Ah, Ari. I’m so sorry.”

“I’m glad it was you,” she says, looking up at me. “Showing up there. I didn’t even think when I called 911. But seeing you—I wasn’t as scared as I was before.”

My chest squeezes. “I’m right here.” Perching on the edge of the bed, I reach out my hand to her. Something flickers in her eyes—gratitude, relief, something else I can’t read—and she puts her small hand in mine.

At first we sit quietly, Ari lost in her thoughts, until she whispers, “Will you tell me about some of your new books? Just, something so I don’t have to keep thinking—”

I’m quick to respond. “Of course.”

So I talk to her about the books my company has acquired recently, trying to come up with the most entertaining ones. The memoir of a circus performer who ended up joining the Navy SEALS. A new series about vampires, but with an unexpected twist. A novel about Cleopatra, but reimagined as if she were in politics today.

My attempts at distraction seem to be helping—Ari even smiles a few times—until the police officers show up in the doorway. Then her face goes flat and tense, and she shifts closer on the bed toward me.

They’re the responding officers from Ari’s original call, two officers I’ve met many times before. Mike Troy is older, gruff, but kind-hearted. Kane Montague is a newer addition to the force, enthusiastic, fresh from the academy.

Mike steps forward, his gaze drifting across Ari’s bandages before landing on her face. “Miss Quinn. How are you feeling?”

Before she can answer, Kane jumps in. “We understand this has been a traumatic experience for you. But the sooner we can get your statement, the sooner we can look for whoever did this.”

Ari clutches my hand, flinching at the pain, but she doesn’t let go. “I know.”

Then she turns to me, her pale green eyes pleading. “Will you stay?”

“It might be better if you stepped out,” Kane starts, but my glare silences him.

Turning to Ari, I meet her worried gaze. “Of course,I will. I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter 3

ARI

I feel equal parts stupid and scared.

Stupid for not taking more precautions on my date. Assuming the drink that was waiting for me at the table was safe. Going on a date with someone I’d never met before and assuming it would be okay.

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