Freezing.
My jaw clenches as I stare through the glass, finally catching a glimpse of her face beneath the blankets, pale, damp hair clinging to her temples, her body trembling like she can’t control it anymore.
Damn it.
I yank the handle again. Locked.
“Fuck.”
I run.
I sprint back to my truck, grab the tire iron from the back, and slam the door shut behind me.
By the time I’m back at her window, my pulse is pounding too hard, too fast.
“Lexy. Open the door.”
Nothing.
I don’t wait.
I wedge the metal between the frame and the glass and force it.
Something gives with a sharp crack.
The door swings open.
How long has she been out here?
I climb in quickly, trying not to jostle her, but there’s nothing careful about the way my chest tightens at the feel of her freezing body.
“Lexy,” I murmur, shaking her gently. “Come on. Wake up.”
Her eyes flutter open, unfocused, fever-bright. She tries to sit up and fails, collapsing back into the blankets.
“Hey. Easy.” My voice drops without thinking. “I’ve got you.”
She doesn’t fight it when I pull her into my arms.
Too light.
Too cold.
Her head falls against my shoulder, her body still trembling, and something in my chest locks up hard and fast.
“Lexy,” I murmur, more firmly now. “It’s me, Dex. I’m taking you inside.”
She makes a weak sound but doesn’t resist.
I lift her carefully out of the car, holding her close as I carry her up to my apartment above the bar. Inside, I lay her down on the couch and pull a blanket over her.
“Don’t worry,” I say quietly as I run my hand over her forehead. She’s burning up. “I’ll call a doctor. You’re not staying out there anymore. You’re safe now.”
She murmurs something I can’t make out, her voice barely there, and I brush a strand of hair away from her face without thinking.
My hand stills for a second longer than it should.
Then I pull it back, jaw tightening as I straighten.
