Despite Michael’s will to ride with the ambulance, the paramedics refuse to let him, maintaining that his presence will put more stress on the doctor. He hates it; he yells at them; but they’re adamant.

The drive to the hospital is nothing more than a frantic dash along the freeway. I don’t even bother checking my speed. Michael and I are right behind the ambulance as it forges a path through the traffic. Neither of us dares to speak. A cloud of concern and fear has descended upon us, taking away the desire to talk about anything. This long silence presents an opportunity for me to recall the entire incident. The grumble of that engine is still echoing in my brain. I may not know a lot about cars, but I know a high-end car when I see one. Its twin exhausts mean that it’s supercharged. That roar was indicative of a vehicle with a lot more horsepower than the 2liter Cherokee I was driving. Horsepower always comes at a steep price.

“You’re going to pay for this.”

Laura’s threat comes rushing back into my mind. Yes, dear old Laura must have orchestrated this. She has the money to hire someone and take out a loved one of mine. And in this case, that someone was a goddamn professional. He didn’t ram the Harley. He didn’t even let the bike crash into him. Instead, he slowed down enough for it to brush his rear bumper. I doubt the wheel of the Harley even made a dent in it. After that, its course was rather predictable. It may be one of the most stable bikes in the world, but its balance at a high rate of speed is still fragile.

Orderlies rush out of the emergency ward, as soon as we arrive at the hospital. Both Dean and Stacy are loaded onto stretchers and hurried inside. She seems to be in a better condition than he is. Her jeans are torn at the knee and the waist, large chunks of her t-shirt have been ripped off, but her eyes are wide open. Strangely enough, she is looking up into the sky and doesn’t even risk a glance up at Michael or me. A minute later, we’re pacing up and down in the waiting room.

Halting by the window, I google “Range Rover” on my cell phone. The information on the screen confirms my fears. Prices on that beast start at $85,000, and that’s the basic model. There’s even a supercharged version that costs almost $20,000 more. It’s got more than twice the horsepower of my Cherokee. In a way, I’m amazed that we were able to be within a couple hundred yards of it.

“Take a look at that,” I urge Michael, tossing the phone over to him.

“Damn…” he whistles at the amounts. “No wonder we couldn’t keep up with them.”

“Laura threatened me again the last time we saw each other,” I announce, my voice darkening. “She said: ‘You’re going to pay for this.’ I don’t know about you, but I think this has got her name written all over it.”

“I’m too upset to start pointing fingers,” Michael states, handing me back my phone. “The kid’s all I can think of right now.”

His response convinces me to stop talking. My friend has a point. Now is not the time to ponder who could have done something so terrible. At any rate, I have no doubt about their identity, and I’ll try and prove it to him later on.

The click-clacking of high heels resounds through the walls of the hall. Within moments, I see two, familiar faces as a brunette and a redhead enter the waiting room. Emily and Karlie stride past Michael, without saying a word. They head towards the closed door of the emergency room, when he decides to address them.

“It’s polite to say ‘hi’ where I come from,” he protests, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“Who gives a shit about polite?” Emily grumbles, whirling her head around to face him. “Did you see what happened?”

“Alright, relax everybody,” I interject, assuming a calm tone. “We did,” I add, moving slowly towards her. “Some big-ass SUV blocked their way. They both took a nasty fall. Dean’s in serious condition. I think Stacy’s in much better shape, but I don’t know for sure.”

“You think?” She squints up at me.

“Yeah,” I affirm with a nod. “She was wide awake when they brought them in. Dean…”

“Shut up,” Emily growls at me, her face twisting into an expression of rage. “Shut the fuck up. None of this crap would have happened if she hadn’t met you. Or you,” she goes on, shifting her gaze over to Michael. “If anything happens to her, I swear to God…”

“What?!” Michael’s stentorian voice rumbles like thunder. “You’ll do what? Our brother and your friend are in there, and all you want to do is bitch about us? Stacy’s lucky to have you, I’ll say that much.”

“You…”

“Emily, stop!” Karlie shouts, stepping in front of her friend. “He’s right. Stacy’s life may be hanging by a thread for all we know. What good can come out of blaming anybody for this?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a hospital,” I point out, staring down at Emily. “As for Stacy, she’s a big girl. She agreed to date us of her own free will. We didn’t force her into anything.”

“It was an accident, Emily,” Karlie says in a sweeter sounding voice, raising her hands up to her friend’s shoulders, “a big, terrible accident.”

“I don’t think so,” I disagree, shaking my head sideways once. “I mean, yes; that SUV blocked their path, but they’d been chasing them for a couple of miles at least.”

“Excuse me?” Surprise sends Karlie’s voice up an octave as she turns her head right to face me. “They were being pursued? By whom?”

“I don’t know,” I puff air out of my cheeks, choosing to keep my theory to myself. I’m not in a mood to explain it to them. I don’t like to discuss my past with strangers, even if those strangers happen to be Stacy’s closest friends. Mainly though, bringing up Laura’s threats to Emily can only result in one more of her outbursts. I’ve already suffered one, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it.

“If you suspect foul play, then why didn’t you call the police?” Karlie asks me, a hint of disapproval in her tone. “I assume you didn’t, because I didn’t see any police cars outside.”

“You’re right, we didn’t,” I declare, taking a short step nearer to her. “Whoever did this, knew what they were doing. The bike didn’t really crash into the car. They didn’t swap paint. It barely touched its rear bumper. It’s not even a fender bender. When they passed us, I thought I should take their number plate, but that thing was too damn fast. What are we supposed to tell the police? That a black Range Rover was involved? There must be hundreds of them out there.”

Karlie parts her lips, ready to continue our conversation, but at that moment, a young, female doctor walks out of the emergency ward.

“Stacy Dexter?” She calls out Stacy’s name in a heavy, Greek accent, glancing around her.

“Doctor, we’re her friends,” Emily speaks in a shaking voice. “How is she?”

“My name is Dr. Galanou. Stacy is still in a state of shock, but she’s going to be fine.” The doctor’s words send a wave of relief washing over me. Yet, they have a more profound effect on Emily. Letting off a deep sigh, she thrusts her arms around the doctor.

“Oh, thank you so much,” She whispers as a small smile bursts upon Karlie’s lips.

“As I was saying, her life is not in danger,” The doctor goes on as Emily leans back. “She’s got a few minor abrasions on her arms and legs and a mild concussion, but she’s otherwise in good condition. We’ll monitor her for another twenty-four hours; it’s standard procedure. After that, she can go home.”

“What about Dean Ryan, the guy she was with?” The physician’s face tightens at Michael’s question, tearing any pleasant feeling within me to shreds.

“I’m afraid Mr. Ryan wasn’t so lucky,” She begins, her voice losing its nerve. “He has sustained blunt force trauma, minor internal bleeding and swelling on the brain. The swelling ceased late last night, otherwise we would had have to put him in a medically induced coma. It’s a good sign, but he’s still in critical condition. The next twenty-four hours are critical.”

“Can we go see him?” I pose a question, fear and dread storming into my heart.

“I’m sorry, you can’t,” She responds, her gaze staying on me. “He is heavily sedated. He won’t wake up for another fifteen hours or so. Ms. Dexter isn’t, but she needs to get some rest, so I suggest you don’t stay in there for too long. Now, excuse me.”

The doctor’s statement ruins every hope I have of finding out more about the incident. What’s worse is the fact that Emily and Karlie can go ahead and strut into the emergency ward. I need to be alone with Stacy, so that she can shed some light on this. But, even if they weren’t there, I don’t have the courage to see her. The possibility of losing Dean forever is a lot closer than I thought. I want to stay put, just in case our brother wakes up. Our next conversation might be the last.