case he had a neck injury. They shouldn’t move him out of there until they knew what kind of damage had been done.
“Sam.” She touched his face again. His skin was reassuringly warm, his breath even against her hand. The flashes of panic stilled. “Sam. Can you hear me? Come on, sweetie.” She fought not to tap him harder or shake him to try to wake him up. The cut on his head wasn’t deep, but it had already purpled, and head injuries were so dangerous. She tried not to think about that, to focus instead on what to do. Sam moaned and moved his arms but didn’t open his eyes.
“Quinn, we’ve got to get him out.” There were sirens in the distance, but they didn’t sound like they were getting closer. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”
Which meant Nick thought someone had deliberately caused this accident. Maybe he was only being the protector again, but she trusted his judgment. With gentle hands, she palpated Sam’s neck a little. It felt normal, but she was no medical professional. If she had power, she could identify an injury—but she didn’t. Helpless, and aware that the longer she waited, the more at risk they were, she pulled herself deeper into the car and reached for the seat belt.
“Brace him good, Nick.” She swallowed against queasiness. If they hurt him worse…she felt Nick shift, and his arms moved past her legs to wrap around Sam’s shoulders.
“When you release the latch,” Nick said, “we’ll maneuver him in your way. You can support his head and shoulders while I get his legs out.”
Quinn looked up at where Sam’s long legs were wedged under the dash. It bowed inward in the center, away from the partially crushed passenger side.
“It looks like they might be trapped,” she warned.
“I know. I don’t think they’re busted, though, just maybe wedged.”
“Should you get them out first? I don’t want to break his leg when he falls off the seat.”
“We’ve got to reverse his circulation. If he has a head injury…”
Pooling blood in his brain could cause further damage.
“Okay, here goes.” She reached up, held her breath, and pressed hard on the seat belt latch.
She’d expected it to be jammed from Sam’s weight on it, so when it gave way she wasn’t ready. Nick didn’t have a good angle or the strength to hold all Sam’s weight against gravity. Quinn barely kept Sam’s head straight as he came down on top of her, shoving the air out of her lungs. She wheezed and curled her fists into his jacket to drag him up her torso, trying to straighten his body. Nick cursed and pushed himself into the foot well. One of Sam’s legs came free, then the other, his boot heels thudding onto Quinn’s knees.
She struggled for air but kept Sam’s head cradled on her chest while Nick backed out of the car, coughing. Her lungs recovered and filled, and she tightened her hold on Sam, praying she wasn’t doing it wrong. Nick straightened Sam’s legs along hers, then gripped her ankles and dragged them out of the car. When they were clear, he eased Sam off Quinn and onto the gravel shoulder.
The rain hitting his face roused him, and he jerked his arm up to block it. Quinn struggled upright, weak with relief, her back and thighs throbbing from being dragged across the hard metal edge of the roof. Cuts on her back and shoulders stung, but she ignored them and bent over Sam, trying to block the rain.
“Sam.” She touched his face, her fingers trembling. “Are you okay?”
Nick pulled off his coat and draped it over her to shelter them both.
Sam sighed and blinked blearily up at Quinn. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, thank god.” The pain in her chest receded, leaving her feeling raw but whole. She fisted her hands in his jacket and bent her face to his solid chest. His hand cupped the back of her head, and she stifled a sob. Leave it to Sam to try to comfort her when he’d been smashed up.
She pulled back. “I don’t know.” Her hands shook as she released
“Sam.” She touched his face again. His skin was reassuringly warm, his breath even against her hand. The flashes of panic stilled. “Sam. Can you hear me? Come on, sweetie.” She fought not to tap him harder or shake him to try to wake him up. The cut on his head wasn’t deep, but it had already purpled, and head injuries were so dangerous. She tried not to think about that, to focus instead on what to do. Sam moaned and moved his arms but didn’t open his eyes.
“Quinn, we’ve got to get him out.” There were sirens in the distance, but they didn’t sound like they were getting closer. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”
Which meant Nick thought someone had deliberately caused this accident. Maybe he was only being the protector again, but she trusted his judgment. With gentle hands, she palpated Sam’s neck a little. It felt normal, but she was no medical professional. If she had power, she could identify an injury—but she didn’t. Helpless, and aware that the longer she waited, the more at risk they were, she pulled herself deeper into the car and reached for the seat belt.
“Brace him good, Nick.” She swallowed against queasiness. If they hurt him worse…she felt Nick shift, and his arms moved past her legs to wrap around Sam’s shoulders.
“When you release the latch,” Nick said, “we’ll maneuver him in your way. You can support his head and shoulders while I get his legs out.”
Quinn looked up at where Sam’s long legs were wedged under the dash. It bowed inward in the center, away from the partially crushed passenger side.
“It looks like they might be trapped,” she warned.
“I know. I don’t think they’re busted, though, just maybe wedged.”
“Should you get them out first? I don’t want to break his leg when he falls off the seat.”
“We’ve got to reverse his circulation. If he has a head injury…”
Pooling blood in his brain could cause further damage.
“Okay, here goes.” She reached up, held her breath, and pressed hard on the seat belt latch.
She’d expected it to be jammed from Sam’s weight on it, so when it gave way she wasn’t ready. Nick didn’t have a good angle or the strength to hold all Sam’s weight against gravity. Quinn barely kept Sam’s head straight as he came down on top of her, shoving the air out of her lungs. She wheezed and curled her fists into his jacket to drag him up her torso, trying to straighten his body. Nick cursed and pushed himself into the foot well. One of Sam’s legs came free, then the other, his boot heels thudding onto Quinn’s knees.
She struggled for air but kept Sam’s head cradled on her chest while Nick backed out of the car, coughing. Her lungs recovered and filled, and she tightened her hold on Sam, praying she wasn’t doing it wrong. Nick straightened Sam’s legs along hers, then gripped her ankles and dragged them out of the car. When they were clear, he eased Sam off Quinn and onto the gravel shoulder.
The rain hitting his face roused him, and he jerked his arm up to block it. Quinn struggled upright, weak with relief, her back and thighs throbbing from being dragged across the hard metal edge of the roof. Cuts on her back and shoulders stung, but she ignored them and bent over Sam, trying to block the rain.
“Sam.” She touched his face, her fingers trembling. “Are you okay?”
Nick pulled off his coat and draped it over her to shelter them both.
Sam sighed and blinked blearily up at Quinn. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, thank god.” The pain in her chest receded, leaving her feeling raw but whole. She fisted her hands in his jacket and bent her face to his solid chest. His hand cupped the back of her head, and she stifled a sob. Leave it to Sam to try to comfort her when he’d been smashed up.
She pulled back. “I don’t know.” Her hands shook as she released
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