“No,” I croaked. “Please, don’t. Not Maricela. She can’t know.” I blinked, trying to clear the tiny spots popping around the edges of my field of vision. “I’m good,” I murmured, spotting something moving outside the car. Something… that was running. And… Clucking? “I think I just hit a chicken.”
Unintelligible swearing came from the speaker while I released the seatbelt and picked the phone up from the floor. I returned to the upright position and—
My head swirled. “That was a mistake,” I murmured.
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Adalyn. The Green Warriors—”
“I feel like I need to throw up.”
“Get out of that car,” he said. “Now.”
With a nod Matthew couldn’t see, I put the car in reverse. “The car is in the middle of the driveway so I’m going to park and then—”
“No.”
“I can’t just leave the car here.” Pebbles jumped from under the tires as the vehicle started to move. “Maybe I should check on the chicken, too.” A thought formed in the haziness that was my head. “Oh God. What if I killed it?” My eyes drifted to the direction the chicken had run off. I couldn’t believe this. “Another stupid bird.”
My eyelids fluttered shut. Just for a moment. It couldn’t have been more than a nanosecond, a short-lived reprieve, but—
A thump jolted me.
A thump. I had hit something. Again. Something larger than a chicken. Something like a—God, don’t let it be a bear.
My eyes blinked open, panic surging.
In the same breath, a growl—a bear-like growl to my utter dismay—came from the rear of the car. My foot shot forward. But my head was fuzzy and my basic reflexes clearly amiss, because instead of the brakes, I must have hit the accelerator.
And hurled the rental against a tree.
CHAPTER THREE
Cameron
The woman inside the car was unconscious.
“Hello?” I called, squinting my eyes. I was trying to get a look at her face, but her head was against the window and the only thing I could see was a tangle of… brown hair. I knocked on the window and repeated, a little louder, “Hello?”
No reaction.
Christ. This wasn’t good.
Pushing aside the pang of lingering annoyance and anger, I wiggled the door handle, hoping the car was unlocked and feeling immediate relief when it opened with a swift click.
Relief that vanished the moment the woman toppled to the side like a dead weight.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, catching her midair.
This had just escalated from inconvenient to concerning.
Without losing more time, I secured her against my chest and plucked her completely out of the vehicle so I could place her on the ground.
I kneeled next to her, that mass of hair still obscuring her face and pushing me to brush it aside with my hand. A set of parted lips, a button nose, and pale cheeks were revealed. Too pale, I noticed, my gaze inspecting her for obvious injuries. My eyes stopped at a bump on her forehead. It was an ugly shade of red and didn’t alleviate any of my concern.
“Hello?” I called a third time, not obtaining any reaction from her. I patted her cheek softly. Still nothing. “Christ.”
I tilted my head back for a second, dragging my hand down my face and dreading the reasonable course of action. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact she’d almost run me over. Missing the fucking bird that had been roaming the property for weeks was fair enough, but me? I had been standing right behind the car. And I wasn’t a small bloke. She’d overlooked a six-foot-two man in broad daylight, then hurled the goddamn car against a tree.
“And now you’re going to make me call a bloody ambulance, aren’t you?” I whispered, shaking my head and pulling my phone out of my pocket. “Of course you are.”
Just as I was unlocking it, though, she finally stirred, recapturing my attention.
A groan left her.
“Come on,” I murmured, eagerly waiting for her to fully regain consciousness.
Her head moved to the side, her eyeballs flickering under the soft-looking skin of her eyelids.
I expelled a breath, growing restless. Once more, I reached out with my hand. I needed her to wake up and be fine. I was concerned about the likelihood of her having a concussion, sure, but I was also concerned about myself. And the last thing I wanted was having to report this and call in the emergency services or, God forbid, the authorities. I’d—
Her eyes popped open, bringing my motion to a sudden halt.
Brown eyes met mine.
“Who are you?” she rushed out in a strangled voice. Her gaze dipped toward my hand, just as it was about to make contact with her shoulder. “Don’t touch me.” She glanced up again. “I know self-defense.”
I frowned.
“I could take you.” Her voice turned into a whisper. “I think.”
“You think? That’s not very threatening,” I muttered. She scowled at me for an instant, and then shifted, wincing with the motion. “What’s hurting?” I asked, and when she didn’t move or speak, I stretched my hand in her direction again. I’d assess her injuries myself if I had to, make sure she was okay, then drop her off at the closest hospital for a checkup. She wasn’t my problem but I—
She swatted at me.
At my hand. One sharp and quick swat.
I blinked.
“I told you not to touch me.” The woman all but spat. Outrage twisted her expression. Or perhaps it was fear. I frankly couldn’t tell. I was also too baffled to give a single fuck. “So?” she insisted. “Who are you and why am I lying on the ground?”
I continued to stare at her, speechless. And when I could finally talk past my disbelief, what left me was, “You hit me with your car.”
The woman frowned. “I did not hit—” She stopped herself, her jaw slowly falling open. “Oh.” Realization washed over her face. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh,” I deadpanned.
“The growl,” she murmured. “It was you.”
“Of course it was me, what did you think you’d hit?”
“I don’t know. A… bear?”
My brows arched. “And you still didn’t brake?”
“I tried to brake.”
“You tried to brake,” I repeated, my eyes flickering to the upscale and definitely not-suitable-for-the-terrain car as it rested against the trunk of an oak tree. She’d been lucky she’d been moving relatively slowly and barely managed to scratch the bumper of the car. I’d been lucky, too.
The woman remained silent, seemingly lost in thought and leaving me no choice but to watch her as she probably recalled everything—at snail’s pace, too. My gaze trailed down, taking in her button-down shirt, pencil skirt, and heels. Everything about this woman, from her clothes—designer, no doubt—to her very impractical vehicle, reeked of entitled big-city life and overpriced beverages she snapped photos of on her way to the office. All of the things I’d intentionally left behind.
My eyes darted back to her face. To the spot on her head that was just as ugly as a few minutes before. “You should get your head checked. I’ll drive you to the closest hosp—”
She jerked upward, bringing my words to a stop when she only managed to fall back.
“Absolutely not.” I placed my palm on her chest to stop her from any other reckless attempt. She pushed upward and it barely took any effort on my side to keep her there. You can take me, my arse. “You’re not jumbling your way into another stupid accident.”
Her chin dipped, her eyes finding my hand. Right above her breasts. She scowled. “I told you not to—”
“Are you lost?” I interrupted her, undeterred by the menacing glance. My touch was purely clinical. Practical. “Is that why you’re here?”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why would I be lost? I was parking my car when you got in the way—”
“You’re either lost,” I interjected again, “or trespassing. Have your pick.”
That seemed to catch her off guard because she blinked a few times. I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. “Oh God. Are you some crazy wilderness dweller who lives off scamming bypassers by jumping in front of their cars?” My brows furrowed and she shook her head. “I bet the beard and the accent are fake.”
I tilted my head. Okay, she was either a lunatic or had the biggest concussion I’d ever encountered.