"A little achy." She shrugged and swiped a hand at the tears on her cheeks. "Where are we?"
"The Circle's private hospital."
"Why?"
His gaze searched hers. "You don't remember?"
She frowned. "I remember the car."
He nodded. "It sideswiped us. Turns out they were working for the men who'd kidnapped Michael. Camille has been working on them, but she hasn't been able to get much information out of them." Nikki frowned. "But that means they were expecting us to give chase." He grimaced. "It appears they were expecting a whole lot of things. Lucky for us, we were in the Merc."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, if it wasn't for the front and side air bags, you might be dead." She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he was talking about. She couldn't die. Well, technically, she could, but only through decapitation. "What do you mean?" He reached forward and touched her neck. It was only then she became aware of the bandage.
"The impact of the accident shattered the windshield and sent glass flying everywhere. If the air bags hadn't taken the force off the one that hit you, it might have sliced clean through your neck." A chill ran through her. What were the odds of something like that happening in an accident? What were the odds that it was no accident?
She swallowed, but it didn't seem to ease the sudden dryness in her throat. "How long have I been in the hospital?
He hesitated. "Four days."
Her eyes widened. "Four days! God—"
Jake's hand clasped hers, squeezing lightly. "It's all right."
"It's not all right," she said furiously. "Anything could have happened to him! What in hell are Seline and Camille doing?"
"All they can, believe me. But there's more to this than what you think."