I set his wallet and keys in the console and his shorts on his lap. I touched my display and entered the word hospital to find the nearest one.
“Can you take me to Sam’s?”
“Andrew, you are bleeding from multiple stab wounds, and you have a head injury. I can’t get to L.A. in a timely fashion,” I explained as I backed out of the spot.
“He won’t ask me questions.”
I burst out laughing.
“Sam will sure as fuck ask questions.” I had found out how calm but relentless Sam could be with interrogations. He’d pulled so much out of me in casual conversations.
“Josh, please.”
“Andrew—”
“He won’t make me feel like a wimp for getting my ass handed to me.”
Fuck. Without complaining or saying another word to try to change his mind, I pulled onto the freeway.
“Thank you.”
“She’s a fucking psycho, Andrew.”
“I know,” he rasped again.
“You’re lucky my car has a ‘no death’ policy about passengers,” I said jokingly.
At my first opportunity, I veered into the carpool lane and was thankful I didn’t have anyone preventing me from doing between seventy-five and eighty. I tried to keep the ride smooth, and I checked on him by looking over at him every few minutes. His fingers were really pale as he gripped the top of the table. I reached over and put my hand on top of his to see how cold he was. His fingers were definitely cold, and I was trying to determine if it was from holding the table so tight or from loss of circulation. I remembered how cold Jolie’s fingers were when I’d found her.
“You don’t have to hold the table so tight, man,” I told him.
“I need to squeeze something. The pain is so bad.”
Fuck. I bumped his hand and slowly guided it away from the edge of that fucking table. I held my hand out, palm up for him to take. He quickly wrapped his hand around mine and squeezed.
“Andrew, you are done with that woman—”
“Josh—”
“No more bullshit excuses, Andrew! She fucking stabbed you!”
“Yes, okay. I was going to ask you to please hurry. I don’t want to throw up in your vehicle.”
I would gladly permit him to vomit in my vehicle in exchange for his word that he was done with that fucking bitch. As we moved along the side streets, I dialed Sam’s cell phone from my steering wheel. I hoped he’d answer and wasn’t with a patient. I needed him available for Andrew.
“Hi, Josh,” Sam’s calm voice filled my SUV speakerphone. “Are you in between lessons?”
“I didn’t make it to the beach. Listen, I have Andrew with me and am bringing him to you.”
“What do you mean you’re bringing him to me? What happened?”
I tried hard not to let my anger become too evident, mainly for Andrew’s sake.
“Andrew tried to get to a hospital on his own, but he was seeing spots and pulled over. He wouldn’t let me take him to a nearby hospital—”
“Josh, what happened to Andrew?”
“Elise,” was all I could get out. I took a deep breath to prevent myself from losing it while Andrew was trying to keep it together.
