Until Harry - L.A. Casey Page 0,76

is your name, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice deep and soothing to my ears.

I winced in pain but said, “Lane Edwards.”

He nodded, still smiling. “What is your date of birth?”

I had to think about that for a second, but I remembered the correct date and said, “The fifth of February, nineteen-ninety.”

“Last question,” the smiling man said. “Who is our prime minister?”

I grimaced. “David Cameron, unfortunately.”

“That’s really good, Lane,” he said, laughing.

“Where am I?” I asked, bewildered.

“My name is Jacob, and I’m your paramedic,” Jacob said clearly. “You’re in my ambulance, and we’re en route to York Hospital to have you assessed and admitted by a doctor. You gave us a scare there for a minute, but you seem to be doing better. You’re awake and talking, and that is what I like to see.”

What the hell does that mean?

“What happened?” I asked.

Jacob frowned down at me. “Can you remember anything, Lane?”

I closed my eye and thought hard about what could have happened to me that had me in the back of an ambulance and on the way to the hospital. For a minute or two I drew a blank, and then, like the impact of a train, it all came flooding back.

“Jensen,” I shouted. “He hurt me, he tried to – he tried to—”

“Shhh,” Jacob soothed. “It’s okay. He was arrested at the scene and cannot hurt you anymore. Hear me clearly, love, he cannot hurt you.”

I continued to panic, and Jacob looked distraught.

“I have your friend Drew here,” he said, and that got my attention.

“Drew?” I called out.

I heard movement, and then suddenly she was hovering over me.

“I’m here,” she breathed.

Her eyes were red and bloodshot, obviously from crying.

I swallowed. “My family . . . Kale . . .”

“They’ll meet us at the hospital.”

I closed my eyes and swallowed.

“I had to call them, Lane,” Drew sniffled. “You have to understand how scary it was seeing you like that . . . like this.”

I tried to nod, but the neck brace around my neck and shoulders prevented that.

“I know,” I acknowledged. “Thanks, Drew. You . . . you saved me.”

Her eyes glazed over. “I heard you scream. I didn’t know it was you, but I knew whoever was screaming was in trouble.”

Thank God she heard me when she did.

“Why were you in that building?” I asked.

“My friend Carey lives on the third floor,” she explained. “I was leaving her apartment when I heard screaming coming from Jensen’s, so I called for Jack, Carey’s boyfriend, and he kicked the door open.”

My throat clogged up with emotion, so I blinked in acknowledgement that I’d heard her.

“Drew,” Jacob said, “can you retake your seat, please?”

Drew disappeared, and I yelped when the ambulance ride got bumpy.

“Sorry, Lane,” Jacob called out. “We’re just pulling into the emergency bay now. We’ll have you in the hospital in a minute or two.”

I winced and cried in pain when the stretcher I was on was lifted out of the ambulance and then wheeled into the hospital. I stared up at the ceiling, watching light after light pass by. It got a little hard to stay awake then, so I closed my eyes to rest them for a few seconds.

“Room four with her, please,” a female voice said to Jacob, who was pushing me in the direction of the room.

“This is where I take my leave, Lane,” Jacob said when he leaned back over me. “You hang in there, love, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “Thank you.”

Jacob left to go outside to talk to the nurse he was leaving in charge of me, so Drew came to my side.

“Drew?” I heard my mother shout, her voice clearly distressed.

Drew exhaled a huge breath of relief and rushed outside into the hallway. I closed my eyes as she said, “She’s okay. She’s awake and talking.”

“Lane,” I heard my mother cry, closer this time, and then a shadow came over me. “Oh, my baby.”

I felt her hands on me, and it upset her even more that I winced in pain when she pressed too hard.

“Oh, Christ.” Lochlan’s voice was strangled. “Lane.”

“Lochlan,” my father’s voice shouted. “What room do they have her – Lane!”

“No,” Lochlan shouted. “You don’t want to see her like this.”

“Get the hell out of my way!” my father bellowed, and I heard some grunting, then a male cry.

“Baby,” my father whimpered. “Oh, my girl.”

Wake up!

I forced my left eye open, and when my vision adjusted, my parents’ distraught faces came into view.

“I’m . . . okay,” I rasped.

This caused both