It was difficult to see what the crumpled heap was by the glow of her taillights. Ellie rushed over, the idea that an injured animal might hurt her quickly fleeting with the knowledge that she had caused the injury and needed to help if she could.

As she jogged toward the dark lump, a wave of panicked nausea swept over her. Not having time to vomit, she forced herself to keep moving forward and face what she had done.

The animal that she had hit wasn’t an animal at all. It was a man! Ellie’s hands shook as she tried to figure out how to revive him. She patted his face, yelling “Sir? Sir? Oh, please don’t be dead, sir.”

Relief flooded her system when she leaned down and heard ragged breaths coming from him. “Thank God.” She sagged with relief, before adding, “You will not die on my watch.”

Frantically trying to think of what to do, Ellie realized she needed to call 911 for emergency assistance. Her phone was buried beside the seat in her car. The jogger surely had his cell phone with him, right? Tapping the pockets of his zippered jacket, she didn’t feel anything. Looking down at his dark pants, she wondered if it might be lurking down there.

“Who wears black clothes to jog on the road this early in the morning?” she muttered as she forced her inhibitions down and dove her hands down into his pants pockets.

Of course, he chose that moment to wake up. She froze with both hands down the front of the stranger’s pants pockets when she heard him croak, “I don’t know what you’re looking for down there, but I sure hope you find it.”

Yanking her hands back as if she had been caught with them in the cookie jar, she said, “We need a cell phone.”

“Don’t have mine with me,” he mumbled, his eyes now closed again.

She felt like chastising him for being out on the road without one, but considering she had just been driving distracted while she was searching for her phone and had proceeded to run over him, she opted to stay quiet.

“We need to get you to the hospital.” She said the words loudly because she wasn’t sure how lucid he was. “Can you walk?” She already knew the answer, but that didn’t stop her from hoping that his injuries were miraculously less than she feared.

He gave such a slight nod, she wasn’t positive that she hadn’t imagined it. His eyes were still closed. Giving a longing look up and down the dark road, she prayed to see approaching headlights, but none appeared. Unsure how she was going to get him in her car, she decided to make it as easy as possible.

“I’m going to back my car up so it’s not so far for you,” she told him, even though she wasn’t sure he was awake.

“Try not to run over me again,” he whispered, his eyes still closed. Then he flashed a wide smile at her. His gleaming white teeth were visible in the red glow from her car’s taillights.

“I’ll try not to,” she promised before jogging to her car, shaking her head at how good-natured he was about being mowed down by her vehicle.

Deciding he was probably just delirious from the pain, she whipped her car into reverse, but stopped well short of where he was. Running over him, then backing over him again would be horrifying.

Scurrying around her Beetle, she opened the passenger door, hoping to make it as easy as possible to get him in the car. When she returned to him, he appeared to be unconscious again.

Shaking him gently, she said, “Sir? We need to get you into my car, so I can drive you to the hospital.”

“Not sure I want to ride with you,” he croaked before gracing her with another dashing smile to let her know he was teasing.

How he could have a sense of humor at this moment was beyond her, but it helped diffuse the stressful situation. Besides, it was better than having him yell at her, which would probably come when he felt better and was able to fully process what had happened.

It was obvious that he wouldn’t be able to stand on his own, so she gingerly attempted to lift him to get her arm under him. He tried to help, but winced in pain.

“Where does it hurt?” she asked him.

His groaned response, “Everywhere,” made her feel even worse.

Not having time to wallow in guilt and concerned that things might get worse the longer he went without medical treatment, she summoned all of her strength and hefted him to a sitting position before pulling him up to his feet. He leaned heavily on her and held one foot up off the ground, but together they were able to hobble him towards the car.

He was much bigger than she had originally thought. The supportive arm she had wrapped around his back was at his abdomen level. Her fingers curled around his side and discovered nice tight abs. Knowing she shouldn’t be noticing such things at this critical point in time, she snapped her attention back to the task at hand.

Even though he was tipped to the side, allowing her to support much of his weight, she knew he was tall––at least six feet. They had almost made it to the car when he lost consciousness again.

She had thought she was bearing most of his weight, but when he suddenly slumped down, she realized he had been doing much of the work. The force of his sudden drop caused her to lose her balance. More concerned about making sure that he didn’t get hurt worse than her own safety, she cushioned his fall with her own body.

In a fraction of a second, they were both on the ground. She was trapped––pinned under the unconscious, dead weight of the stranger.

“Well, this is just great.” She puffed out.