Page 67 of Something’s Brewing

The ambulance pulled onto the shoulder behind Nick’s cruiser. Two EMTs hurried over with a medical bag and stretcher, introducing themselves as they began assessing Madison.

Garrett looked down at her. Her rain-soaked hair clung to her face, her eyes still bright with adrenaline.

He realized with sudden clarity how close he’d come to losing her, and he wasn’t ready for that.

One of the EMTs finished checking her pupils before meeting her gaze. “I’d like you to go to the hospital so we can rule out internal injuries.”

Garrett braced himself for her refusal.

Instead, she nodded.

His surprise must have shown, because she gave him a faint, tired smile.

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, squeezing her hand before they guided her toward the ambulance.

The back doors shut with a hollow, metallic thud that echoed through him. He turned and ran for his truck.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Garrett had never felt so helpless in his life.

He switched on the wipers at a lower speed now that the rain had slowed to a calm drizzle. There was nothing calm about the storm churning inside him. He had to shake out each hand from clutching the steering wheel.

The sight of Madison’s SUV tilted in the ditch would stay with him forever—headlights crooked, hazard lights blinking like a frantic pulse in the dark.

He followed close behind the ambulance. Its lights pulsated but there was no siren.

Her being run off the road was his fault. If he had refused to let her take care of the inspection payment at City Hall, she wouldn’t have gotten caught up in the town corruption. He ran his hand through his hair and down his face, his nervous energy threatening to swallow him up.

Someone was gunning for Madison because she was too stubborn to back off. Part of him admired her tenacity; the other part wanted to wrap her up and never let her go. Keep her somewhere safe, somewhere nothing and no one could touch her. He should be protecting her from danger, not allowing her to run toward it.

They arrived at the emergency room entrance, and he parked and walked inside, his clothes soaked, his shoes squeaking on the tile floor. He approached the admittance desk. “I’m here to see Madison Mitchell, she was just brought in by ambulance. I need to see her.” His voice sounded steadier than he felt.

The attendant glanced at her computer. “Let me check on her, and I’ll find you in a few minutes.” She pointed to the bank of chairs behind him. “Wait there. I’ll be back.”

A few people waited, but no one he recognized. One guy clutched his thumb, and Garrett noticed an unforgiving fishhook buried into his flesh. He grimaced. “I’ve been there,” he said to the man, who he thought might be a tourist.

The man grunted out an acknowledgment and stood to follow a nurse back to the treatment rooms.

Garrett couldn’t sit. He needed to move. If he stopped, the image of Madison in that ditch would catch up to him. He wasn’t sure he could outrun it. Thirty minutes had passed and still no word. Chloe entered through the automatic glass doors, carrying a tote bag.

“Hey, Garrett.”

“Chloe? What are you doing here?”

She handed him the bag. “Dry clothes and shoes. Nick said you’re soaked to the bone.”

“Thanks.” His voice came out rough.

“How’s Madison doing?”

“I’m still waiting to hear.”

“Hey, Chloe!” The attendant approached them.

“Hi, Roxie.”

“Garrett, Madison is asking for you,” Roxie said. “They just brought her to x-ray. When she gets back to her room, I’ll come find you. The doctor should have the results soon.”