“Amanda,” I whispered. But my lips couldn’t move. They hurt. Every inch of me hurt. Then Thomas turned the corner, and I saw that a crowd had formed across the road. People were backed up against the building. All were pale. Tears in their eyes. Hands covering their mouths. One girl ran from behind us to their side and was swept up by another girl. Both were crying, but their relief was evident. They were happy to have found each other.

“Car,” Thomas barked to someone, careening past the crowd at a breakneck speed.

My friends. They had to get my friends.

Then he stopped and bent down. There were shouts all around us. A swarm of others surrounded the car. Were we under attack? I tried to look, but the men who had rushed to us had their backs to us. They were acting as a human shield, but I could see someone coming to us. I could see him through the human wall. They moved aside for him. He wore a black sweatshirt with the hood pulled up and black pants. His eyes were fierce and his jaw clenched. He was cold and livid at the same time. A sliver of recognition went through me, but this wasn’t Carter. It was Cole.

Thomas waited for him, but my friends—Amanda. Noah. Theresa—where were they? I tried to lift up so I could see. They might already be inside the car, but I had to see—as I moved, a scream tore from me. I didn’t recognize it as mine, but I knew it came from me. It sounded like a wounded animal.

“No, Miss Emma.”

Thomas tried to urge me back down, but I refused. I shook my head, knowing fresh blood and fresh tears streamed down my face. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, I brushed against his face, and I tried to bite down on my lip to keep from crying out again. I failed. I couldn’t stop another guttural cry, but then I looked past the men. My friends. Where were they? I couldn’t see them. It was just the men, so I looked past to the crowd and froze.

Every part of me held still; my pain was forgotten for a moment.

It was me. Standing across the road, pressed against the wall with terror in her eyes. It was me.

I lifted my head higher, confused. Was I over there? Was this an out of body experience? I needed to see more. Her eyes locked to mine. They were full of tears, and she pressed her hands against her mouth. Then she began shaking her head, and someone cradled her shoulders. She turned toward the man next to her, and his hand lifted to support the back of her head as he held her to his chest. After a moment, she turned so she could peer over his shoulder at me.

But then Cole blocked my view as he stood before me with his hand raised in the air.

He was scared. There was nothing to indicate this, but I sensed it, because it was in me too. I was scared.

I needed Carter.

Cole’s hand touched the back of my head, and Thomas got into the car. Cole was protecting me, so my head wouldn’t hit the car, and then we were inside.

“Are you coming?” Thomas asked him.

Cole shook his head. “I’ll be there later. I’m needed here now.”

“My friends,” I gasped out, finally able to form the words. “My friends.” Even as I spoke, I strained to see across the road. I couldn’t see her now, but I needed to. It was me, but it wasn’t. That made no sense.

“We’ll find your friends.” Cole stepped back and shut the door.

“No.” I pushed up from Thomas’ chest. But I couldn’t. I was too weak. Instead, I lay down and looked up at him, pleading. “My friends, Thomas. Are they okay?”

“Amanda’s already in another car.”

Oh, good. Relief swept through me, calming me a little. “Theresa and Noah?”

“Cole will find them. He’ll take care of them.”

The car sped away then. It wouldn’t be until later that I wondered why Cole was even there. In those moments, so much didn’t make sense. That woman—I couldn’t get her out of my head. She lingered with me, in the back of my mind, as I was taken to a private clinic. Amanda was already there, and a doctor had taken care of her by the time I limped inside. When she saw me, she choked on a sob and rushed over.

“No, Miss Amanda.” Thomas swung his arm out, keeping her back.

“I won’t hurt her,” she rasped.

“Place her here,” the doctor said, and after that, everything was cold and pure agony. He poked and prodded me thoroughly to assess my wounds before cleaning them up. Amanda stayed with me the whole time, holding my hand. She didn’t say a word. Neither did I. No one spoke except for the doctor, who asked me questions as he checked me over.

When his assessment was done, he’d determined I had a few sprains from the impact and a significant cut inside my mouth, which is why I’d been coughing up blood. But the cut had stopped bleeding now, so nothing more was needed. He bandaged me, gave me a painkiller, and wrapped a clean blanket around my shoulders before Thomas helped me to the car. Amanda never let go of my hand.

Back in the vehicle, I kept a death-grip on her hand and asked Thomas, “Where are we going?”

“Back to your friends’ place.”

Amanda squeezed my hand. “Are they okay?”

“They’re there. They’re fine.”

“Thank god,” she whispered. More tears slipped from her eyes.

I wanted to reach up and wipe them away, but my other arm was wrapped in the blanket, and the medication made me so sleepy.

Then she asked, “And Carter?”

“He’s coming,” Thomas said after a moment.

“Good,” she said, anger clouding her face. “Good. Whoever did that, they need to be found.” She looked Thomas in the eye, and a dark message passed between them.