Sand Angel Page 0,35

to her side as the paramedic hastened to stabilize her.

Zoë wasn’t moving.

Chapter Eleven

Thump. Thump. Thump. The repetitive sound was like giant bird wings. Zoë couldn’t tell if it was coming from outside her body or from within her head until she felt the sting of sand and a flood of warm air surrounding her. Helicopter. The pounding only added to the splintering pain in her head. She ground her teeth together.

From past experience she didn’t dare open her eyes for fear the morning sunlight would slice through them like a knife. Add to that the uncomfortable pressure that squeezed her midsection and the fact her right wrist felt weighted, Zoë knew she was in trouble. The familiar sensation of ice water rushing through her veins revealed she was connected to an IV. She couldn’t lift her hands or turn her head—neck, arm and even leg restraints.

Great. That’s all I need. A whimper of distress pushed from her lips.

“Easy, Miss Davis.” Someone, a paramedic she concluded, slipped an oxygen mask over her mouth. A cool gush of air filled her lungs. “Do you know where you’re at?” His gentle voice did nothing to calm the turmoil churning inside her.

Zoë’s body ached like she’d been hit by a truck. Of course, what more could she expect after doing a full-gainer over the bike’s handlebars?

When am I going to learn?

A deflated sigh pushed from her lungs. A sharp pain caught in her chest. She fought to breathe. It burned.

Please don’t let it be a broken rib.

“Glamis.” Her voice came out muffled. She knew the drill. “I had an accident. Head hurts, ribs sore, but I’m okay.”

Yeah. Right.

After leaving Josh at the restaurant, Zoë had headed to the campsite, determined to get the hell out of there. More than angry, she was primed when a rider on a Kawasaki pulled up beside her and revved his engine. A cocky grin plastered across his face.

“So you wanna race, big boy?” The desire to wipe the sand up with this guy was strong. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t him and it wasn’t a desire—but a need. Zoë was an adrenaline junkie. There was no way she could walk away from a challenge, especially in her heated condition.

The memory rolled through her head. Sand sprayed from their back tires as they both floored it. Everything was going well, she was just about ready to take the lead when a rider and quad came from out of nowhere. The rest was something of a blur.

She remembered jerking the handlebars to the right, swerving to miss him. Behind her there was a sickening screech of metal striking metal. Screams. She turned her head to see what was happening.

One minute her wheels were on solid ground. The next—nothing. She caught air, the sand more than ten feet below.

Immediately, an epinephrine rush hit. The stimulus to her heart was amazing. It was a drug, a high that she lived for. For a moment, Zoë felt invincible. Unconquerable. Invulnerable. That was until the ground rose swiftly to meet her. The bike’s front wheel bottomed out, pushing the shocks all the way down. Next thing she knew she was doing her rendition of Evel Knievel. The sudden stop catapulted her over the handlebars. Thankfully, that’s the last thing she recalled.

Tears welled in her eyes but she fought them. When had she become such a dumb-ass? Truth was, she was getting tired of the pain but she couldn’t help herself. She was always looking for the highest mountain, the fastest track, the greatest experience.

The blood pressure cuff around her biceps began to firm, getting tighter and tighter. Dammit. She had to get out of here.

Zoë swatted at the oxygen mask. “Get this thing off me.” She raised her eyelids to see a young man dressed in white with black-rimmed glasses, hovering over her.

“Ma’am, you need to keep it on,” the ambulance attendant insisted.

“Now,” she growled. The effort it took to speak hurt like a sonofabitch. As the man reached for the mask, she glanced over his shoulder. In the distance, Josh broke from the gathering crowd, running toward her. His ashen face was something she didn’t want to deal with—not now.

“Sis, hold still.” His brows tugged together as he fell to his knees beside her.

“I’m okay. Just a bump on the head,” she insisted, even as nausea threatened to crawl up her throat. She struggled to drag in another breath. Her eyes were watering, stinging from the dust and sand and emotion that