My hand moved automatically to my phone as I opened the tracking app. The small blinking icon representing his car appeared instantly on the map. I had state-of-the-art software due to the nature of my job, and I had no hesitation at all in adding Leo as an asset. Maxim had no idea what went on in security anyway, and if he ever found out, he knew I was monitoring Leo, so I wouldn’t give away my true intention.
From the tracker, Leo was still on the road.
“What the hell, Doc?” I muttered under my breath. “Why are you still driving at this time?”
The blue dot moved slowly along the highway that led toward his neighborhood. He was five minutes away, so not too long before he would appear. Did I want him to know I was here, or should I be more discreet?
My frown deepened as I watched the screen. The icon stopped moving entirely. If this was anyone else, I would have guessed they had stopped at a friend’s. But not Leo, and certainly not at this time of night. It was past midnight.
My stomach dropped. “The fuck?”
I shoved the phone into the holder on the dashboard andslammed the truck into gear. The engine roared as I pulled away from the curb, tires screeching slightly as I accelerated onto the road. The distance between us on the map wasn’t far. A few miles at most.
But something was wrong.
Very wrong.
I could feel it in my gut.
I rounded a curve and saw the flashing hazard lights of a car before I even reached the bend. Another car sat crooked against the guardrail.
A black BMW.
My heart kicked hard against my ribs as I slammed on the brakes and jumped out of the truck, running. “Leo!”
The driver of the other car, I assumed, stood near the wreck, pacing beside the sedan.
“Someone’s trapped inside,” the man called when he saw me running toward the crash. “I already called nine-one-one.”
I ignored him. Leo’s BMW had slammed into the guardrail hard enough to crumple the front end. The driver’s door was partially crushed against the metal barrier.
“I saw the whole thing.” The man followed me, still talking. “He just drifted into the rail. I think the driver fell asleep or something. Maybe he was trying to kill himself.”
No!
My blood ran cold.
Leo had taken Bradley’s death hard, but he was mentally strong. He pushed back against my presence and showed up to work every single day like life was ordinary. He wouldn’t try to kill himself. He just wouldn’t.
But what if he had?
Through the shattered windshield, I could see Leo slumped sideways in the driver’s seat, trapped by the seatbelt holding him awkwardly in place and the airbag, which had deployed.
He moved, and relief slammed through my chest so hard it nearly knocked the air out of me.
“Leo!”
His head shifted slightly at the sound of his name.
Good.
He was conscious.
The passenger window was cracked but not fully shattered. I grabbed the frame and tried to wrench it open, but the metal had twisted under the impact and held firm.
Behind me, the other driver hovered. “Hey, wait,” he said quickly. “I’ve got a crowbar in my trunk. Let me grab it.”
He jogged back toward his car, but I didn’t wait. Every second Leo stayed trapped inside that wreck felt too damn long. I unbuttoned my shirt quickly and wrapped the fabric tightly around my hand. Then I drove my fist hard straight through the spiderwebbed window.
