And a big blue truck was hurtling down the street.
Not at Cade.
Not at her.
At Ronan.
Chapter Nine
"Ronan!” she screamed desperately. “Watch out."
He swung around at her warning, and in one of those snapshot moments where everything seemed to stop, she realized he'd never get out of the way in time. The truck was too close and going far too fast.
Her best friend was going to die if she didn't do something to stop it.
"No,” she screamed, to the driver, to fate herself. She dropped her phone, the plastic casing smashing on the pavement, the tiny shards glittering like tears as the sun caught them. She picked up the nearby metal trash can, and with a grunt of effort, she hauled it over her head and threw it at the approaching truck.
The trash can turned end over rim, spewing rubbish everywhere as it flew through the air, seeming to go fast as everything else slowed down around her. Like a dreamer caught in the middle of a nightmare, she saw the brown-haired driver's mouth drop and her fingers clench and haul at the wheel. Watched the trash can smash into the windshield, sending hundreds of spider-like cracks webbing across the glass. Heard the squeal of tires as the truck turned sharply. Saw the fender hit Ronan. Heard his grunt of pain. Watched him fly backwards like a broken sack.
Then everything reeled to full speed. The truck was gone, people were screaming, and all she could see was Ronan lying on the pavement.
Not moving.
No, no, no. God, no. He can't be dead. He can't—
Hands were on her, shaking her. She blinked and looked up. Cade, white-faced and fear in his eyes.
But she couldn't allow herself to think about that yet. Not until she knew.
"I'm fine. I'm fine." But Ronan wasn't. She knocked away Cade's grip, ducked under his arms and ran to Ronan. Dropping to her knees beside him, she touched his neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there—racing, but strong.
Relief ran through her, washing the strength from her and leaving her feeling momentarily weak. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. That didn't do much to ease the sick churning in her stomach as she said, “Someone get an ambulance."
Her voice sounded so calm, so official. Odd when she felt so fragmented.
A hand touched her shoulder and squeezed gently. She knew who it was without looking. The heat of him, the scent of him, filled her senses, even as strength seemed to flow from his fingertips.
She looked up and smiled. His expression was as stony as his navy eyes. It only took her a moment to realize why. Her reaction had reinforced his believe that she loved Ronan.
Which she did, but not in the way he believed.
Before she could say anything to Cade, Ronan groaned and opened his eyes.
"Forget the ambulance. I'm fine.” He rolled onto his back, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. “Well, fine except for the fact that it feels like a hundred elephants have been racing up and down my body."
"You're lucky,” Cade said, moving around to squat on the opposite side of Ronan. “If Savannah hadn't thrown that trash can, you probably wouldn't be alive right now to complain about the elephants."
Ronan's gaze met hers and he smiled. “That's one I owe you, then."
"Anytime, my friend.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, more to reassure herself than him. “But you are, however, going to the hospital to be checked out, and then Steve is going to escort you home and watch over you while you rest."
"Steve? God, he smells worse than a distillery these days."
"He doesn't drink on the job,” she said mildly. “And it's either Steve or you get out of town."
"I'll take Steve."
She figured as much. Ronan wasn't one to leave a job half done. Or her unprotected.