I need to get my side fixed up. The fire is only getting hotter, and those stars in my eyes are beginning to spin.
“Well, um, I wish you could stay here chattin’ with me, but unfortunately I have to close up now.” Her hands flatten on the table, spreading in a wide circle before she slips out of the booth.
“Yeah. That’s totally… totally fine.” I swallow. Why does my tongue feel so thick? “Here, let me just… I’ll get you… You need a tip.” I don’t know why I’m having to take breaths between every few words, but I feel like I’m being sucked into a black vortex. The stars are blurring together into a white light, and as I rise from the table to dig out some money, the darkness smothers me.
“Michael?”
The word floats right through me as everything starts to fall.
11
A Hospital for Animal Lovers
“Michael!” I manage to catch his jacket sleeve, but it barely does anything to soften his fall.
He’s a giant redwood and I’m just a little bird, my stick arms doing nothing to help him.
Dropping to my knees, I roll him onto his back. His tanned skin is basically white.
“Michael?” I shake his jacket, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do now. “Oh my gosh.” I rest a hand on my forehead. “Um. Uh. Pulse. Breathing?”
I don’t know what I’m doing, but I shove my cheek close to his lips and feel a whisper of breath.
Good. Okay. He’s alive, at least.
Poking around his neck, I search for a pulse and think I find one, but I’m not sure.
“Do I start CPR?” I ask him, knowing it’s stupid because hello! He’s unconscious.
A low groan oozes out from his lips and his eyelids flutter. I freeze, gaping at him while my heart decides to run a hundred-meter sprint.
“Are you okay?” I whisper.
He gazes at me for a second, and then his eyes slide shut, his head flopping to the side like he’s just fallen asleep.
Placing my hand near his mouth again, I wait for that breath of air. As soon as I get it, I rest my hand on his forehead, searching for a temperature, but he’s not burning up. He’s sweating a little.
“Does that mean you’re injured or somethin’?” I start scanning his body, looking for some kind of explanation, and that’s when I notice a dark stain on the waistband of his jeans. With a frown, I steal a quick glance at his face before lifting the bottom of his jacket.
He’s not wearing a shirt.
That’s weird, right?
I lift the jacket a little higher and spot a bandaged wound around his middle.
“Oh shit.”
The bright red spot soaking through the white gauze tells me he’s been hurt. Shot? Stabbed? Fell over and landed on something sharp?
Aw, man. Let it be the last one.
“Not good. This is… uh… Help? I need help.” I scramble to my feet and run into the empty kitchen. Everyone’s gone for the night. I snatch my phone off the counter, my thumb hovering over the 9.
But then something stops me.
An ambulance will take forever, and…
I run back into the diner, staring down at this mysterious man. This gorgeous man with the kind eyes who wants to be a rancher.
My gut is telling me to keep this quiet.
It could be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but rather than dialing 9-1-1 like a normal person, I call my best friend instead.
“Hey, Miss Annie,” Franks chirps. “Please tell me you’re on the road, runnin’ away with some gorgeous leather-jacket-wearin’ supermodel. I bet he drives a Corvette or a Mustang or somethin’. Am I right? Tell me I’m right?”
“Need help,” I rasp.
Franks’s tone changes in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“Cute guy. Fainted. Blood. Not wearin’ a shirt.”
“Okay, okay. I need full sentences, hon.”
I swallow and fall back to my knees. “I think cute guy’s been shot or stabbed or somethin’. He fainted right in front of me, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Call 9-1-1.”
“No. I… I… We need to help him. Please don’t ask me why, ’cause I can’t even explain it right now. But he needs our help. Like immediately.”
“Okay. Okay. We’re comin’. Billy, we gotta get back to Duke’s.”
I hear a muffled “Why?” but then the line goes dead.
With shaking fingers, I unzip Michael’s jacket, hoping he won’t mind. It gives me a better look at the poorly applied bandage. I press my fingers around the edge of the red stain, and he groans like I’m hurting him.
“Sorry. Help’s comin’.” I brush the long strands of hair off his forehead and whisper, “Please be all right.”
I keep up that mantra until the back-entrance door swings open and Franks comes running in. Billy’s right behind her, looking less than pleased to be here.
“What happened to him?” He towers over us, his black eyebrows dipping into a sharp V.
“I don’t know. We were just sittin’ there talkin’, and then he got up to leave and just… passed out.”
Franks crouches down to look at the bandage. “What’s under that?”
“I haven’t looked yet.”
“We need to get him to a hospital. This looks bad.” Franks winces.
“I know, but I don’t think he has any money. He said he was rubbin’ pennies together. He probably doesn’t have health insurance or anything.”
Billy scoffs and points down at Michael. “He obviously needs more help than we can give him.”
I ignore him and look to Franks instead, quickly suggesting the idea I had while I was waiting. “What about your mama?”
“She’s a vet!”
“That’s still medical. She removed that stick from Mojo’s stomach last month. How different can this be?”
Billy tips his head back with a groan. “Can’t you just take him to Doc Keyes?”
“Are you kiddin’? She’d probably accuse me of hurtin’ him.”
The big guy concedes with an eyebrow raise and a tip of his head. “I still say we take him to the hospital.”
“No!” I shake my head.
“Annie, come on,” Franks tries to back her boyfriend.
I scowl at her. “No! He fainted in my diner. This is a sign that I’m supposed to help him. And takin’ him to a hospital where he can’t pay the bills isn’t helpin’ anyone. He just needs patchin’ up is all. Your mama can do that.”
Franks whines in her throat. “She’ll be pissed.”
“Your mama’s anger is like being tickled with a feather.” I grab my friend’s wrist and give it a quick squeeze. “Please. Help me.”
Franks relents with a small lip twitch and rises to her feet. “Oh, come on, then. I’ll call her on the way.”
Billy’s not too happy about it, but because Franks asks him to, he lifts Michael off the floor and carries him to the back of his truck. It’s kind of impressive. Michael’s not a small fry like me, but I guess Billy is half giant, so it’s probably not too hard for him.