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Derek was in the car staring dumbly at the ground to his left, where the women lay.
She fainted he told himself for the second time.
Sure, getting Chace’s leather jacket off and stuffing him under the car was difficult. Definitely, if your right hand is out of the game. Especially, if you’re right-handed. But Derek managed it, expecting the worse to come later with this unknown Rachel character left to deal with.
The last thing he could have ever thought to happen, was to have this plump, round faced women make her way over to the problem and faint herself out of it. He could’ve easily placed her as someone he spotted on a cooking show.
He cracked a smile, exhaustion overwhelming him.
Derek groaned to his knees next to the snoring lady, tugging the ambulance keys out of her pocket. Tugging off his mask and the leather jacket, he awkwardly reclaimed his footing.
Derek gazed down at her. Best bad guy. Ever.
Alex was laying on the cot in the back of the ambulance, asleep. Derek let out a long sigh, gasping as his injury sent another jolt up his arm.
The highway was a wasteland. Thank god for that Derek thought after accidently swerving between lanes for the third time. His eye lids were carrying fifty pounds each, the only thing keeping them from closing completely being the occasional reminder that his right arm was NOT okay with being neglected. He never wanted to sleep so badly.
An unusual calm was in the air around him as he steered to West Barkley Hospital.
It was the silence. Derek momentarily took his hand off the wheel to punch on the radio. Country music blared throughout the cabin, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he tapped a finger on the wheel.
“You up, Alex?” He murmured smiling, “You gotta let those ears appreciate the quality of this ride.”