The Single Dad (The Dalton Brothers 3)
Page 104
My stomach churned.
“Ford—”
“Something’s wrong!” he yelled. “Something’s fucking wrong!”
I didn’t realize he had turned around and was leaning across the opening I’d climbed through, his hand on Everly’s thigh.
“She needs a doctor,” I told him. “Call 911.”
I couldn’t stay calm.
I couldn’t stop the worry.
As I stared at him, his arm dangling, the position of it even worse now, he reached for the door again and tried to pry it off. “Open the fuck up!”
The movement shook Everly, and I screamed, “Ford, stop!”
“I need out. I need to get a fucking doctor.”
He was stuck.
That only left me.
When I turned toward my door, someone was opening it.
“Is everyone all right in here?”
“No!” I gasped. “Call 911!” I pushed myself off the seat, rushing past the person who had opened my door, and yelled, “I need a doctor!”
My ears buzzed, and my eyes blinked as I took in all the chaos.
People.
Cars.
Everywhere.
A mix of voices, a jumble of words I could barely make out.
But enough that I heard, “Call 911.”
“Break the fucking window.”
“Shouldn’t we wait until the ambulance arrives?”
“What if she dies?”
“They’re on their way. Two minutes out.”
I put my hands over my ears, trying to block out everything everyone was saying.
But the moment I had them secured like earmuffs, there was a hand on my arm, shaking me, forcing my attention toward them.
It was a woman.
She was now holding my shoulders and said, “Help is on the way. We called 911.”
I clung to her arms. “She needs help,” I panted. “Everly needs help.”
“Don’t worry, honey; they’re close. Can’t you hear them?”
I shook my head. “Hear them?”
I tried to listen.
But there was too much noise.
Too many people.
Too much movement.
Ford.
Oh my God, Ford.
I let the woman go and turned toward the car, leaning into the opening. “Ford, the ambulance is on the way.” I dropped onto the seat, my hand going to her cheek. “Eve.”
Her face was becoming paler.
Her skin damper.
“They need to hurry!” I yelled out the door.
Questions then came from behind me.