Page 139 of Crash Course
And that? The sadness and worry he’d been feeling since watching her sail through the air after some prick had blown up her car?
He’d never experienced it before. Not since his father died. And that scared the hell out of him.
Something squeezed in his chest, gripping so tight it stole his air. He held his breath a second, then blew it out before facing Tiles again. "Ilove her. I’ll love her no matter what she looks like. But her?" He shook his head. "She’s not lucid. She can’t tell you what she wants, but I’m sure she doesn't want a giant scar down the front of her face."
"Sir—"
"Richards," Cilla croaked.
Both he and Tiles looked at her. "What?" Cruz leaned over the rail, got right next to her face. "Cilla? What did you say?"
"Doctor," she said. "Richards. Riley Richards. Client."
And who in the fuck was Riley Richards? And why was she talking about her clients now?
Unless . . .
Cruz went back to his phone and googled Dr. Riley Richards.
Bingo.
Plastic surgeon.
"Okay," he said. "Here we go. Riley Richards is a plastic surgeon. She must be one of Cilla’s clients."
"Call her," Cilla croaked.
Cruz tapped on the link. "I’m on it."
"Mr. Blackwell," Tiles said just as someone picked up the other end of the line.
Cruz held a finger up, silencing Tiles.
Minutes later, after throwing Cilla’s name around and explaining to the doctor’s nurse what he was calling about, Dr. Richards got on the phone.
"Put the doctor on," she told Cruz in a no-nonsense tone that reminded him of Cilla. No wonder she liked her.
He handed the phone over, waiting patiently while Tiles offered a quick assessment of the situation and then said, "All right. We’ll see you soon."
Tiles handed the phone over. "She has privileges here and is on her way. I guess y’all have some pull."
"Not me." Cruz pointed at Cilla. "Powerful family."
Then he paused and for the first time in nearly an hour, stopped moving and thinking and worrying and just dipped his chin to his chest and let out a breath.
This entire episode was straight out of hell.
One second they were standing in the parking garage and the next?Boom!Hunks of glass and various other debris raining down like tiny daggers.
"You okay?" the doc asked.
Probably not. He didn’t have time to think about it. He needed to get Cilla squared away. See if she could stay awake long enough to tell him what the fuck she needed.
Did she want her father here?
After last night? Who knew?
He’d have to get her mom’s number, though.
