CHAPTER 5
THE DOTS ON THE CEILING
Inside the ambulance, Savage and her partner sliced off Shea’s jeans, jacket, and shirt with the efficiency of a chop shop stripping a boosted sports car. The experience left her feeling as exposed and raw as the chewed-up flesh along her leg.
“This should help with the pain,” Savage said.
A wave of warmth flooded through Shea’s body, dropping her pain level from exquisite agony to a dull burning sensation. “Oh, thank God.”
She stared up at the ceiling, unable to turn her head. Her mind flitted erratically through the consequences of the accident.
No doubt the medical bills would be astronomical with her crappy insurance, especially if her injuries were serious. Would she require physical therapy? How long before she could return to work? Who would d
