but oh my god, this is too good. Tell me everything. What is it? Prince Albert? Guiche? King's crown? Magic cross? Come on, give me the gossip, MK!"
My cheeks flamed, and I deliberately looked out my window. "You know way too much about dick piercings, Bree."
She cackled like an evil witch, and I couldn't help the amusement silently shaking my shoulders. I couldn't believe I'd just accidentally told her about something that private.
"Come on, girl," she poked me in the leg, teasing, "you've admitted that much; you might as well tell me everything now."
"Bree!" I protested with a groan, but in reality I was entertained as hell. This was the Bree I'd been missing. Fun-loving, teasing, and a bit crude.
At least, while she was driving, she couldn't focus all her attention on harassing me for the intimate details of my very active sex life. I'd always been pretty open with her about my sexual partners, even telling her about the douchebag from Shadow Prep who'd convinced me to try anal for the first time. But now I found I didn't want to share those intimate moments. They were private between me and my guys.
I changed the subject, asking her about how things were going with Dallas and listening when she told me all about a run-in they'd recently had with a couple of Wraiths while they were on a date.
"I mean, can you believe that?" she asked me rhetorically when we paused behind a bus at a red light. "We're sitting there in this nice restaurant, about to order desserts, and these two punk-ass kids with their pants halfway around their knees come at Dallas like I'm just not even sitting there."
I tried not to laugh. She was clearly irritated that they’d interrupted her date, but it sounded like typical, lower-level gang bullshit to me. Not that I was the expert, but I'd seen enough in the weeks I'd stayed at Zane's apartment building.
"You should have sprayed them with your Mace," I teased her as the light turned green and the bus started rolling forward. "You know, really taught them a lesson in manners."
Bree shot me a deadpan glare. "Very funny. That actually sounds like something you'd do, you—"
Through her window, I saw a blacked-out Hummer barrel through the red light. I sucked in a breath to scream at her, but I was too slow.
It all happened at once. The Hummer didn't even attempt to slow as it plowed straight into the side of Bree's car and pushed us across three lanes of traffic. Our car spun, then dislodged from the front grill of the Hummer. We spiraled out of control for several gut-wrenching turns until finally we came to a screeching, crunching halt.
Everything hurt. My ears rang and my face stung from the airbag deploying. Pain throbbed through my skull, sharp agony slicing through my neck with every breath. But... I was still alive. I was still conscious. That had to be a good sign, right?
"Bree?" I croaked, then coughed at the tight ache in my chest. My seat belt had locked up, pinning me into my seat like a band of iron. It'd probably just saved my life.
"Bree?" I tried again, "Bree, babe, hey." I reached out a heavy hand, touching her shoulder but not shaking her. If she had a spine injury, that could make it worse. Her face was tilted away from me, her hair wet with blood, and she wasn't moving. She wasn't responding.
Fear choked me, filling my lungs and cutting off rational thought. Was she dead? That Hummer had hit her at speed. Her whole side of the car crumpled in, trapping her arm and left leg in a mangle of metal and blood.
"Bree, hun, talk to me. I'm gonna get help, okay?" My voice shook as I spoke, but Bree wasn't listening. The only hopes I had to cling to were the fractional rising and falling of her chest and the blood trickling from her forehead. That meant she had a pulse... didn't it?
"I'm getting help," I told her again, determined. Kody had been following right behind us; he'd already be calling an ambulance.
The ringing was quickly fading from my ears, only to be replaced by a much more fear-inducing sound.
Gunshots.
Fuck. I needed to get out of the car. I needed to get Bree to help. I needed to make sure Kody was okay.
Yanking on my seat belt got me nowhere; it was locked in place. I couldn't unbuckle it either—the clicker was