Shit.His first thought wastheft.Had someone stolen his SUV during the night? As he racked his memory, he realized he hadn’t seen it in the parking lot when they pulled in the night before.
"What's this about, Officer?"
"Your vehicle was involved in an accident last night. The driver is Brandi Kidd. Do you know the young lady?"
Gypsy’sblood ran cold."Yeah, she’s a friend of my family."
Beside him, Quinn stirred, blinking sleepily as she sat up. Her hair was atangled mess—just the way he liked it inthe mornings. But the moment she saw his expression, her drowsiness vanished.
Whispering a quick summary to her, he listened as the officer filled in the details—the accident, where Brandi had been found, the hospital she was taken to.
"Thank you for calling,"Gypsy said, already moving."We’ll be leaving shortly to head to the hospital."
As he hung up, he turned to Quinn, his voice tight. "Did you give Brandi the keys to the Escalade?"
She hesitated. A flicker of something crossed her face—guilt, maybe. "I did."A sigh. Then, softer,"I know she was upset over Tool when you guys left last night."
Quinn didn’t want Brandi in any kind of trouble.She just wanted her to be okay."Is she?"Her voice was almost a whisper.
Gypsy exhaled, running a hand through his hair."She’s in the hospital."
His jaw tightened as he grabbed his phone again, this time dialingTool.The man needed to know.
Toolfumbled for his phone, knocking it off the nightstand with a curse. Grumbling, he reached down, grabbing it from the floor.
"Gypsy? Is something wrong?"
Was something wrong?Hell yes, something was wrong.Gypsy’s voice wassharp, tense."Brandi’s been in a car accident."
Toolfroze."Sorry, what did you just say?"
Gypsy didn’t have the patience to repeat himself."I didn’t whisper. Brandi’s in the hospital. I don’t have all the details yet. I’m leaving in fifteen. Meet me in the parking lot."
“Okay."
The call ended, but Tool barely registered it. He sat there for a moment, phone in hand, Gypsy’s wordsringing in his ears.
That explained why she never answered the door. Why his calls had gone straight to voicemail after he came back last night.
Fuck.Pushing back the covers, he climbed out of bed, his movementstight, restless.He had tosee her.Had to know if she was okay.
A quick shower—get the night off of him, clear his head.Then he’d be focused on what needed to be done.
Stepping under thecold sprayof the shower, Tool let the water jolt him awake, but it did nothing to quiet thestorm of questionsraging in his head. What car had she been in?Was she hitchhiking home?Where did the wreck happen?How did it happen?
His fists clenched against thecool tileas frustration built inside him. Then—hiseyes snapped open.
They haddriven past a crash sceneon the two-lane stretch running from Oakville back to Sonoma Valley. At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it—just another wreck, another poor soul who had a rough night.
Butwhat if it had been Brandi?His stomachknotted.
Shoving a hand through his wet hair, Tool shut off the water and stepped out, his movements quick,urgent.He needed answers. And he needed to see her with his own eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Brandi struggledagainst the pounding in her head as she slipped into the same clothes she'd worn the night before. What she wouldn’t give for clean ones.
It had been hours since the cops stopped by.
