“What else?” he asked quietly. “What else happened to her after that?”
Lauren shrugged. “You must know some of it. She left your old firm, even though she’d worked like a slave for over a year to get as far as she did. But she couldn’t handle the thought of seeing you again with another woman, and didn’t trust herself enough not to run into your office and beg you to take her back. So she split and started over again, working for that nasty old woman who called her names and screamed at her all day long. And Angie took it, she just took whatever that bitch dished out, because she didn’t care anymore. When you left her, something inside of her broke and even after four years I can’t really say for certain that she’s completely healed up. She’s better, that’s for sure, and thank God she’s put some weight back on. But deep down there’s still a part of her that’s really messed up, and I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that you’re the only one who can fix her for good.”
Nick’s mouth quirked up at one corner at this reluctant admission from Lauren. “And I’ll bet it just about killed you to admit that,” he taunted.
“More than you’ll ever know,” she returned sharply. “But it is what it is, you know? Angie’s a smart girl, always got straight A’s in school, always aced exams, got into Stanford and graduated top of her class. But she hasn’t always been smart about other things – namely, some of the choices she’s made in her life. And getting involved with you was probably the worst decision she’s ever made. However, it’s done now and there’s no going back. You’re the one for her, and as much as I’d love that to not be the case, it’s a fact.”
“What about Dwayne?” asked Nick. “Did you approve of him?”
Lauren scoffed. “You’re joking, right? I mean, when Angie told us she was finally dating someone after so long, Julia and I were ecstatic. And then when she told us who he was, I seriously thought she was fucking with me, pulling a practical joke the way she used to back in high school. You know what Dwayne’s nickname was back then – a nickname I gave him, by the way?”
“No idea, but I’m guessing it wasn’t a flattering one.”
She snickered. “It was Dwayne the Dweeb. He was tall, skinny, awkward as hell. He wore these big, thick glasses, his jeans were always about three inches too short, and I swear he bumped into every wall and door he came near. And when Angela told us he was the new guy she was seeing, all I could think about was the time Dwayne tripped over his own feet in chemistry class. He knocked over half a dozen beakers, and then cut his hand on the broken glass.”
Nick couldn’t help but smile at the image Lauren created. “Well, it seemed that he grew out of the awkward stage eventually. At least the one time I met him in the office he wasn’t tripping over anything. And even though he seemed like a nice enough guy, I hated him a little, too. Because he’d actually made Angela smile for a change, something I hadn’t been able to do for two months.”
Lauren nodded. “I admit when I saw the two of them together a few months ago that she seemed happier than she had for a real long time. But I also knew it wouldn’t last. There was zero chemistry there, especially on Angie’s part, and, well, once a dweeb always a dweeb. But you’re avoiding the real subject, Nick. I’m guessing you’re good at that sort of thing.”
His gaze narrowed in annoyance at her persistence. “What else do you want to know before you tell me exactly where Angela is?”
“What I want,” Lauren told him softly, “is your guarantee that this time around things will be different with Angie. That you open up more, agree to meet her friends and family, and treat her right. That you let her spend the goddamned night at your place once in a while. Because I know who you are now, know where to find you, and if you break her heart again I’ll break your nose. For starters.”
Before he’d met the fiery hellcat a few minutes ago, Nick would have laughed scornfully at the idea that any woman – much less one of her petite stature – could have inflicted anything more serious than a scratch on a man of his height and bulk. But having been on the receiving end – twice, now – of Lauren’s anger, he kept his mouth shut and merely nodded in agreement.
“I won’t break her heart,” he assured her soberly. “I’m not saying any of this is going to be easy for me, but I’m willing to try. Because – shit, I’m really not good at this sappy stuff – I care about Angela a lot. And if I knew what it felt like to be in love with a woman, I think maybe – well, I think that could be what I’m feeling.”
Lauren grinned broadly. “Okay. You’ve convinced me. For now, at least. But mark my words, Manning, I’ll be keeping a very close eye on you.”
Nick checked his watch none too patiently. “If I’ve finally managed to reassure you sufficiently, do you mind telling me when Angela’s due back?”
“Oh, not for hours and hours,” replied Lauren airily. “Didn’t she tell you? She’s running some kind of crazy person race today, one that involves doing ten mile loops on this rocky, dusty trail. She won’t be finished until dinnertime at the earliest.”
“Dinnertime? But it’s barely ten in the morning,” Nick replied incredulously. “How long is this race anyway?”
Lauren shrugged. “A hundred kilometers. I forget what she said that was in miles. Regular math was never even my thing much less all that metric system stuff.”
“Sixty miles, give or take.” Nick shook his head. “And it’s supposed to get into the eighties everywhere today. She is crazy, isn’t she? So exactly where is this race taking place?”
“Oh, didn’t I mention?” asked Lauren innocently. “Hmm, well, I was planning on driving over there in a few minutes, catch her at the end of her third lap and throw some water on her, whatever the hell you’re expected to do. I suppose, if you ask very nicely, that you could come along for the drive.”
Nick glared at Lauren with ill-concealed impatience. “You’re suggesting we, ah, go together? Fine, but I’ll drive. We can take my car.”
Lauren shook her head. “Uh, uh. No way. If you want to come along, then I’m doing the driving. And since I’m the only one of us with directions, I’d say you don’t have much choice in the matter.”
***
Half an hour later, Nick was thanking his lucky stars that he’d had such a light breakfast this morning. Otherwise, given Lauren McKinnon’s very questionable driving abilities, he’d have certainly chucked the contents of his stomach a good five miles ago.
“Jesus Christ, will you watch where you’re going?” he yelled as Lauren took a treacherous hairpin turn at what was surely a very unsafe speed.
“Relax,” she assured him arrogantly. “I’ve got this, big guy. I drive much narrower, steeper roads all the time in Big Sur. Even have to use the four wheel drive on most of them. This is nothing. And you really don’t have to keep holding onto that roll bar for dear life. After all, aren’t you supposed to be this big, tough macho football player?”
Nick didn’t answer her, looking out the passenger window instead, and immediately regretted his action. Lauren’s big, sturdy Jeep Wrangler might be able to handle these sort of narrow mountain roads just fine, but that didn’t mean he had the same sort of confidence in her erratic, rather careless driving skills.
“Just get us there in one piece, okay?” he bit out. “I knew I should have driven. How much further is it?”
She reached over to pat him on the arm, and he cringed to notice she was now only driving with one hand – around a hairpin curve. “Less than three miles, tough guy. So if you have to barf, please try to hold it in until then. God, and I thought the guys in my crew were a bunch of wimps. At least they don’t complain when I do most of the driving during assignments.”
Nick shuddered to think of Lauren driving in a foreign country, and most likely not in a vehicle as new or well-maintained as her Jeep. And he felt nothing but pity for any man who had to work with her, much less travel with for days and weeks at a time.
Fortunately, her estimations were right on the money
and they were pulling into a dusty parking lot just a few minutes later. The staging area of the race was a beehive of activity, with runners finishing one lap and heading out for another. There were all manner of volunteers scattered about -some manning a water and food station; others offering medical care to runners who looked in need; still others whose job it seemed was keeping track of all the runners’ progress and making note of how many laps they’d completed and what their total running time was.
Nick took charge of the situation before Lauren could butt in, and asked the volunteer who looked like they were in charge of the lap counting about Angela’s progress.
“Del Carlo?” The volunteer squinted as he consulted his laptop. “Yeah, here she is. Finished lap number two right around the four hour mark, great pace for this course. If she’s still maintaining that kind of pace, then she ought to be finishing up lap number three within the next fifteen, twenty minutes. Just keep watching for her.”
But when twenty minutes passed without any sign of Angela, both Nick and Lauren grew impatient. And when forty five minutes had gone by, they grew concerned. They took turns nagging the race officials, inquiring about Angela’s status, and wondering what could have gone wrong to throw her that far off pace. And when it was a full hour past the time she ought to have shown up, Nick was preparing to head out on the trail in search of her.
Lauren eyed his designer jeans, expensive Italian leather loafers, and white shirt with disdain. “Uh, no offense, but those aren’t exactly ideal hiking duds you’ve got on. Why don’t you let me go out instead? I’m not the runner Angie is but I put in enough miles to get by.”
Nick arched a brow as his gaze scanned over her own tight jeans, cropped tee, and cowboy boots. “You aren’t exactly dressed for a run right now either.”
And then, whatever scathing comment Lauren was about to fire back with froze on her lips as a runner dashed towards the staging area, looking harried and frantic as he completed his loop.
“Runner down on the trail!” he yelled. “Less than a mile from here. Looks like she fell and got knocked unconscious. We need the medics out there pronto!”
Lauren clutched at Nick’s arm for support. “Oh, my God! Do you think that’s Angie?”
Nick fought off the immediate sense of panic that rose up. “I don’t know,” he replied tersely. “Let’s see if we can get more information.”
But the paramedics on site weren’t waiting for clarification, and had already headed out on the hot, rocky trail with a collapsible stretcher and a medic bag. Nick, meanwhile, managed to work his way over to the runner who’d made the discovery and ask the visibly shaken young man more specific questions.
“Look, I’m sure you’re upset about this, but we think the runner you found is our friend,” Nick began. “Can you describe her at all?”
The runner nodded. “I didn’t notice her bib number because she was sprawled face down on the trail. But she’s tall, really tall, with a long black braid. And she was wearing -”
But Nick and Lauren didn’t wait around to hear anymore, since they both knew now that the injured runner was most definitely Angela. They headed out together on the trail, neither one content to wait around for the paramedics to re-emerge. As they strode along at a brisk pace – fear evidently giving both of them an adrenaline surge – Nick cursed softly.
“Why the hell is she even doing something like this anyway?” he asked out loud, though not necessarily addressing his question to anyone in particular. “Why so damned many miles, and on terrain like this? And it’s got to be close to eighty out here already, maybe even hotter. She’s probably passed out from heat stroke, probably didn’t eat enough. Goddammit!”
“Hey, chill out up there, okay?” called Lauren, who was struggling to keep pace with Nick’s much longer-legged stride. “And don’t blame Angie for this. She knows what she’s doing, prepared for this race for months. She’s been doing long distance running for a long time now, ever since – well, a long time. And given how rocky it is out here she probably just tripped or something, maybe sprained an ankle. Don’t jump to conclusions, hmm?”
Nick shook his head as he shouldered on. “I just don’t get why she feels the need to do something this extreme. I mean, a marathon is way more than most people ever attempt. Why did she feel like she had to run this far?”
“Because it was her way of dealing with things,” replied Lauren bluntly. “She’d tell me that when she would go on these really long runs – twenty miles, longer even – that it was easy for her to block stuff out. She’d plug in her iPod and just run for hours and hours. It became a coping mechanism for her, a way to forget how much she was suffering inside. It helped – even for a little while.”
He nodded. “Okay, I get it. So this is my fault, then? The fact that she could be sick, injured now. Because if I hadn’t hurt her so badly, hadn’t broken up with her, then she wouldn’t have felt the need to put herself through this sort of physical challenge. Wouldn’t have had the need to deal with so much pain.”
Lauren scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself that much, Manning. Angie’s always been an athlete, always played sports. Way before she ever met you she had a bunch of other crap in her life to deal with. She played four different sports during the school year, and joined three leagues in the summer just so she’d have an excuse not to be at home. This ultrarunning stuff – it’s a different sport but the exact same sort of coping mechanism she’s always used.”
Nick felt a bit better at Lauren’s reassurance, but that relief was short-lived as he and Lauren reached the site where Angela had gone down. The paramedics had already lifted her onto the stretcher, and were just about to pick her up when Nick rushed over to her side. She was pale and unresponsive, covered in dirt and blood. Her knees and shins were scraped and bruised, her eyes closed and her breathing shallow. Impatiently, he brushed aside one of the paramedics and took her hand, alarmed at how cold it felt while the rest of her skin was burning up.
“Angel,” he called out to her, touching the side of her cheek carefully. “What’s the matter with her? Did she faint? Is it heat stroke or something else?”
“We’re not sure yet, no way to tell until we get her in the ambulance,” replied one of the paramedics. “It looks like she hit her head hard, given the size of the bruise on her temple. And from the way she was clutching her side a minute ago, she’s probably got a few cracked ribs as well. But, sir, you need to get out of the way so we can get her out of here as quickly as possible. Every minute counts right now, okay?”
Despite the protests of both paramedics, Nick insisted on carrying one end of the stretcher, pointing out that he was a lot taller and stronger than either of them and could bear the weight much easier. Rather grudgingly, the slighter of the two gave in and it quickly became apparent that was the right decision, as Nick’s superior strength proved a godsend in transporting Angela back to the staging area as fast as possible.
Nick was arguing heatedly with the ambulance driver, insisting that he wanted to ride along with them, when Lauren took him firmly by the arm.
“They’ll need room back there to work on her,” she pointed out. “And, well, you’re a big dude, you’ll take up too much space. Besides, Angie’s car is here and you’ll need to drive it back for her. One of the volunteers already brought over her bag from the sweats check, so I’m guessing the car keys are in here somewhere.”
He gave a reluctant nod, and took the bag from Lauren’s outstretched hand. “You’re right. Besides, I’d probably end up pissing these guys off even more than I already have. I’ll get her car and meet you over at the hospital. After I get to see her one more time.”
The paramedics had already inserted an IV into one of Angela’s arms, and were getting ready to strap her in for the ambulance ride. She was drifting in and out of consciousness now, her head lolling to one side, and whimpering in pain. But this time, instead of roughly shoving the paramedic out of his way, Nick asked for what he wanted ins
tead.
The paramedic gave a brief, reluctant nod. “Make it quick. We need to get her in ASAP, get a CT scan for that bump on her head.”
Nick stuck his upper body inside the ambulance and took her hand gently in his, wincing when he saw the bits of dirt and drying blood on her scraped palm. He brought her hand to his lips, and gave her a reassuring smile as her eyes fluttered open weakly.
“Nick?” she rasped, her voice barely audible. “What – am I hallucinating? How – why are you here? What – what happened?”
“You fainted, Angel,” he told her gently. “And then you just took a little fall, that’s all. You’re going to the hospital now to get checked out, and Lauren and I will be waiting there for you. Just take it easy now, baby, and let these guys fix you up, hmm? Everything’s going to be all right, I promise.”
She tried to draw a breath to speak, but cried out weakly from the pain in her ribs. “Nick, I’m scared,” she whispered.
But even those three little words proved too much of an effort for her, and she drifted into unconsciousness again. Nick reached over and pressed a kiss to her forehead, murmuring to her even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.
“Don’t be scared, Angel,” he told her. “Because I’m here for you, and this time I won’t leave. Ever again.”
And as the paramedics shooed him out of the ambulance and finished strapping Angela in, Nick could only stand there helplessly, especially when he realized that he was the one who was truly scared right now.
Chapter Twenty One
“What the hell is taking so long? I knew I should have insisted they brought her to University Medical Center instead of this place. We would have had answers half an hour ago if we’d gone there. This place – who the hell knows when we’ll hear anything.”
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