The doors slammed shut and a moment later the engine started.

“Ma’am, I need to check your vitals. Can I have your arm please?”

I nodded, moving my arm so he could grasp it. I avoided looking at him. I could feel my face burning.

“I’m so sorry,” I managed. “I don’t know why I did that.”

“That’s okay,” he said easily, adjusting a blood pressure cuff on me. “People get panic attacks sometimes. And you did just get hit by a car, so it’s perfectly understandable.”

“Is that what it was? A panic attack?” I asked, feeling slightly better.

“No.”

Blane’s curt reply had me glancing at him. I noticed he still held my hand, but I couldn’t make myself let go. Not yet.

“You had a flashback.”

My ribs were bruised, which was why it hurt so badly to breathe. I also had multiple contusions, a sprained wrist, and a mild concussion.

And judging by what Blane was telling me, possibly post-traumatic stress disorder.

After he explained the symptoms to me, I couldn’t disagree with his conclusion, though it did make me feel… weak. Blane had been on a battlefield for months at a time, killing people and people trying to kill him. It seemed he had a right to the PTSD he’d experienced. I’d been taken and held against my will for just a week, most of which I couldn’t remember. It seemed pathetic that I was so mentally fragile that I would have PTSD from that.

After giving me a prescription for pain medication, they let me out of the hospital.

“Where are the admittance papers?” I asked Blane as he helped me get to my feet from the hospital bed.

“I filled them out for you,” he said.

I heaved a mental sigh. Another hospital bill, only no health insurance this time, plus the ambulance ride, X-rays, an MRI—the list was endless—I was sure I’d be paying on this for a long while.

Thank you, William Gage.

“He seems persistent, doesn’t he?” I said, having no choice but to lean on Blane as we left the hospital. I didn’t need to specify who I was talking about.

“It would seem so,” Blane said, his voice flat. He flagged down a taxi and helped me inside, following me in before giving the driver my address.

“Wait, what about my car?” I asked. It was still in the grocery store parking lot.

“I called Gerard a while ago,” Blane said. “He came by to get your keys while they were taking x-rays and drove it back to your apartment.”

I sighed. I missed Gerard. It would have been nice to say hello to him.

We’d been at the hospital for hours and now it was mid-afternoon. My whole Sunday shot to hell, and I had class in the morning and homework to do tonight.

After taking more time than usual managing the stairs to my apartment even with Blane’s help, I was glad to sink down onto my couch. Tigger immediately jumped in my lap.

“Are you hungry?” Blane asked.

I glanced up at him. “I can take care of myself. I’ll be fine.” I absently trailed my fingers through Tigger’s fur. He purred, kneading my thigh with his clawless paws.

Anger flared in Blane’s eyes, but his voice was calm and controlled when he spoke. “I’m not saying you can’t, but I’m the reason for this and I want to keep you safe. Please let me.”

I decided to be brutally honest, with both him and myself. “Blane, I can’t do this,” I said baldly. “I can’t… be around you right now. We’re not friends, and while you may be able to compartmentalize us into the friend zone, I can’t.”

I hated having to make myself so vulnerable in front of him, with my weakness on full display, but I had nothing left to hide behind.

Blane was a master at concealing his thoughts and emotions, but a flicker of pain crossed his face and was gone. He glanced down at the packet the hospital had given me. I’d set it on the coffee table and now he picked up a couple of papers from the stack.

“They gave you some prescriptions,” he said. “I’ll go get them filled and grab something for dinner. Here, you take this.” He removed his gun from its holster and handed it to me. “Just in case. I’ll be back shortly.”

I thought about reminding Blane that I already owned a gun, but that would also remind him that Kade had been the one to buy it for me, so I kept my mouth shut and gave a quick nod. I had to look away from his penetrating eyes that saw too much. He hadn’t said if he’d stay or leave when he got back, but at least I’d gotten a short reprieve. Moments later he’d gone, locking the door behind him on the way out.

Carefully getting off the couch, I grabbed fresh clothes and went to shower. The apartment was stifling and I still had grit on me from hitting the asphalt. Blane hadn’t returned by the time I came out. I settled back on the couch, careful to sit on the blanket. I’d dressed casually again in a cami and knit shorts, though my bruised ribs had me skipping a bra. I was glad I’d done laundry yesterday.

A knock on the door had me sitting bolt upright, with fear slashing through my veins before I could even think. I took a deep breath. It was probably Blane. After all, it’s not like a killer politely knocks on your door before shooting you, right?

Blane’s gun was in my hand as I peered carefully through the peephole. Surprise and happiness flooded through me when I saw who it was, and I hurriedly threw open the door, a broad smile on my face.

Kade looked me over from head to toe, his eyes lingering on my breasts and short-shorts before his piercing blue gaze met mine.

“I fucking love summer.”

I launched myself at Kade without a second thought to the pain that doing so produced in my ribcage. His arms encircled my waist and he lifted me off my feet. I hugged him tightly, my excitement and joy at seeing him felt like a dam had burst inside.

We stood there like that for a long moment, my arms wrapped around his neck as I breathed in his scent, savoring the feel of him after months of his absence. Which reminded me…

“Where the hell have you been?” I asked, pulling back. Kade loosened his grip as well and my bare feet touched the floor.

“Is that any way to greet me?” he retorted, following me inside my apartment. “You leave a bloodcurdling scream on my voice mail and don’t answer your phone when I call you back, which meant I was worrying what kind of shit you’d gotten yourself into the whole way here.” He flopped down beside me on the couch. “And you owe me for a speeding ticket,” he finished. He frowned, glancing around the apartment. “It’s fucking hot in here,” he complained. “Your air broke?”

“My air is expensive.”

“Screw that shit,” Kade said, getting back up. He started closing the windows. “I don’t look good in sweat stains.”

I watched him close all the windows, then turn on the air-conditioning. I couldn’t help smiling. God, it was so good to have him here again. If he wanted the air on, I didn’t have it in me to stop him. And he probably was warm in his jeans and black T-shirt, though I doubted Kade could look bad in anything, sweat stains or not. His black hair was thick and a bit longer than when I’d last seen him, a lock falling over his brow when he returned to the seat beside me. I resisted the impulse to push the strands back. He fixed me with his gaze.

“So you want to explain the phone call now?” he asked.

My smile faded. Oh yeah. The phone call.

“And what’s with the road rash?”

He was looking at the scrapes on my elbow and the underside of my arm from when I’d hit the concrete.

“I kinda got hit by a car,” I said, my voice small.

Kade just looked at me. “Well, that’s new. How the fuck did you get hit by a car?”

“William Gage is out of prison,” I explained. “Blane thinks—”

“Blane?” Kade stiffened at the mention of Blane’s name, his expression turning cold. “That didn’t take long. So you and him are back together?”