Tough Love
Page 5
Should’ve been perfect, only...it nettled him that she didn’t push for more.
Both of them now silent, he turned a corner onto a dark street—and immediately saw the collision. Two vehicles, one in a ditch, the other overturned. Headlights cut the dark of the night at odd angles. Even as Stack slowed his car, searching the scene, the overturned car ignited and flames licked into the air.
“Oh, my God.” Vanity sat forward to stare. “There!” She pointed to the side of one car. “There’s a body!”
Stack jerked the car to the curb, slammed it into Park and released his seat belt at the same time. “Call 911.”
She already had her purse in her hands, digging through it. “Be careful,” she called after him as he hurriedly left the car.
He’d only taken one step when Stack heard a woman’s weak screams.
Breaking into a run, he headed toward the burning SUV. The body Vanity had spotted was a man. It appeared he’d been thrown free and half sat nearby, dazed and confused, blood trickling down his face.
The heat grew nearly unbearable as Stack got closer to the mangled vehicle. Following the voice, he bent to look under the heap of twisted metal and found the woman frantically trying to free herself. Soot covered her face, along with some blood and bruises. Hysterical, she reached toward him. “Help me!”
Stack caught her hands, but some part of the SUV pinned her legs, and he couldn’t free her. Fuck, fuck. He looked around again. From the other car a man staggered out. Drunk or injured, Stack wasn’t sure.
“Give me a hand,” Stack told him.
Instead the man backed up and started nearly incoherent babbling. Drunk, then. Stack watched as he took a lopsided step and fell to his ass.
Suddenly Vanity was there. She’d left her wrap behind, and now her arms and shoulders were exposed to the cold.
She paid no mind to that, asking quickly, “What can I do?”
Ah, hell, he didn’t want her anywhere near the burning car.
“Please, oh, please, help me!”
Grabbing his shirt, Vanity hauled him closer. “I’m helping. Now tell me what to do!”
Clearly she couldn’t ignore the woman’s screams any more than he could.
“Grab her hands. Soon as I rock it back, see if you can pull her free.” He knelt to see the woman. So far the flames weren’t near her, but she’d still feel the heat, and she’d have to know the fire was spreading. “We’re going to try to drag you out.”
“Yes, yes, hurry!”
Shit. “Your legs—”
“It’s okay,” she screamed. “Hurry!”
With her dress dangerously close to the hot flames, Vanity knelt down and locked hands with the woman. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
Putting his shoulder to the SUV, Stack dug in his feet and pushed with all his might. He felt it give, lifting just a little. Not much, but hopefully enough.
“I’ve got you.” Vanity also dug in with her dressy heeled sandals, her bare arms straining, her face highlighted by the red glow of the fire. The panicked woman moaned, but Vanity didn’t relent. “Shh, shh,” she said around her efforts. “Almost there. Almost.”
Making not a sound, Stack strained to keep the vehicle in position and just watched, impressed by her, grateful for her lack of hysterics. Sweat popped on his brow and his jaw locked, but he stayed focused on Vanity.
Finally, the woman’s legs cleared the wreckage, and Vanity relaxed. Jerking back, Stack let the vehicle drop forward again. The hot metal scattered sparks that floated into the darkness.
He didn’t trust the situation at all and went right back to work.
“Move to the curb,” he told Vanity. “Now.” Urging her away from the wreckage, Stack took her place, scooping his hands under the woman’s shoulders and, being as careful as he could, dragging her farther away.
Once he felt they were at a safe distance, he shrugged off his now-ruined tux jacket and put it around Vanity’s shoulders.
She’d already knelt by the woman, talking to her, trying to calm her, but she took a second to smile her gratitude.
Stack smoothed her hair, overwhelmed for reasons he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t the wreck or the danger of the situation.
It was Vanity, her quick thinking and her grounded attitude, her fortitude and her ability.
With a loud whoosh, flames consumed the SUV, making Vanity jump and the woman scream anew.
“Stay with her,” he told Vanity, then jogged back for the two men who seemed incapable of thinking clearly. Given his sluggish reactions, the first guy had a severe concussion, or worse, Stack was pretty sure. The blood covering his face probably came from a head wound, but with so much gore he couldn’t be sure. Also looked like he might have a dislocated shoulder and probably a broken leg.
Both of them now silent, he turned a corner onto a dark street—and immediately saw the collision. Two vehicles, one in a ditch, the other overturned. Headlights cut the dark of the night at odd angles. Even as Stack slowed his car, searching the scene, the overturned car ignited and flames licked into the air.
“Oh, my God.” Vanity sat forward to stare. “There!” She pointed to the side of one car. “There’s a body!”
Stack jerked the car to the curb, slammed it into Park and released his seat belt at the same time. “Call 911.”
She already had her purse in her hands, digging through it. “Be careful,” she called after him as he hurriedly left the car.
He’d only taken one step when Stack heard a woman’s weak screams.
Breaking into a run, he headed toward the burning SUV. The body Vanity had spotted was a man. It appeared he’d been thrown free and half sat nearby, dazed and confused, blood trickling down his face.
The heat grew nearly unbearable as Stack got closer to the mangled vehicle. Following the voice, he bent to look under the heap of twisted metal and found the woman frantically trying to free herself. Soot covered her face, along with some blood and bruises. Hysterical, she reached toward him. “Help me!”
Stack caught her hands, but some part of the SUV pinned her legs, and he couldn’t free her. Fuck, fuck. He looked around again. From the other car a man staggered out. Drunk or injured, Stack wasn’t sure.
“Give me a hand,” Stack told him.
Instead the man backed up and started nearly incoherent babbling. Drunk, then. Stack watched as he took a lopsided step and fell to his ass.
Suddenly Vanity was there. She’d left her wrap behind, and now her arms and shoulders were exposed to the cold.
She paid no mind to that, asking quickly, “What can I do?”
Ah, hell, he didn’t want her anywhere near the burning car.
“Please, oh, please, help me!”
Grabbing his shirt, Vanity hauled him closer. “I’m helping. Now tell me what to do!”
Clearly she couldn’t ignore the woman’s screams any more than he could.
“Grab her hands. Soon as I rock it back, see if you can pull her free.” He knelt to see the woman. So far the flames weren’t near her, but she’d still feel the heat, and she’d have to know the fire was spreading. “We’re going to try to drag you out.”
“Yes, yes, hurry!”
Shit. “Your legs—”
“It’s okay,” she screamed. “Hurry!”
With her dress dangerously close to the hot flames, Vanity knelt down and locked hands with the woman. “Tell me if I hurt you.”
Putting his shoulder to the SUV, Stack dug in his feet and pushed with all his might. He felt it give, lifting just a little. Not much, but hopefully enough.
“I’ve got you.” Vanity also dug in with her dressy heeled sandals, her bare arms straining, her face highlighted by the red glow of the fire. The panicked woman moaned, but Vanity didn’t relent. “Shh, shh,” she said around her efforts. “Almost there. Almost.”
Making not a sound, Stack strained to keep the vehicle in position and just watched, impressed by her, grateful for her lack of hysterics. Sweat popped on his brow and his jaw locked, but he stayed focused on Vanity.
Finally, the woman’s legs cleared the wreckage, and Vanity relaxed. Jerking back, Stack let the vehicle drop forward again. The hot metal scattered sparks that floated into the darkness.
He didn’t trust the situation at all and went right back to work.
“Move to the curb,” he told Vanity. “Now.” Urging her away from the wreckage, Stack took her place, scooping his hands under the woman’s shoulders and, being as careful as he could, dragging her farther away.
Once he felt they were at a safe distance, he shrugged off his now-ruined tux jacket and put it around Vanity’s shoulders.
She’d already knelt by the woman, talking to her, trying to calm her, but she took a second to smile her gratitude.
Stack smoothed her hair, overwhelmed for reasons he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t the wreck or the danger of the situation.
It was Vanity, her quick thinking and her grounded attitude, her fortitude and her ability.
With a loud whoosh, flames consumed the SUV, making Vanity jump and the woman scream anew.
“Stay with her,” he told Vanity, then jogged back for the two men who seemed incapable of thinking clearly. Given his sluggish reactions, the first guy had a severe concussion, or worse, Stack was pretty sure. The blood covering his face probably came from a head wound, but with so much gore he couldn’t be sure. Also looked like he might have a dislocated shoulder and probably a broken leg.
