chapter ten
967 Words
The Stranger
Damon barely remembered getting out of his car.
One moment, he had been gripping the steering wheel, staring at the wreckage in disbelief. The next, he was running toward the girl lying on the road.
His heart pounded violently.
"Oh God..."
He stopped beside her.
She looked so young.
Too young to have been alone on a road this late at night.
Damon glanced back at his car.
The damage was obvious.
A sickening realization settled over him.
I did this.
He crouched beside her, careful not to move her more than necessary.
"Hey."
Nothing.
He checked for signs that she was breathing.
She was.
Barely.
"Stay with me."
Her eyes remained closed.
Then Damon noticed the blood.
His stomach dropped.
There was far more of it than he had expected.
He didn't waste another second.
He carefully lifted her and carried her toward his car.
His hands were shaking.
His expensive suit was getting dirty, but he didn't care.
Nothing mattered except getting her help.
He placed her carefully in the back seat and immediately got behind the wheel.
His phone began ringing.
His assistant.
Again.
And again.
Damon ignored it.
The phone continued.
He finally glanced at the screen.
"Not now."
He rejected the call and drove.
---
The hospital seemed impossibly far away.
Every second felt like a lifetime.
Damon kept checking the rear-view mirror.
The girl hadn't moved.
"Please stay alive."
His voice came out quieter than he expected.
His assistant called again.
Damon ignored him.
Another call.
Ignored.
Another.
Ignored.
The meeting no longer mattered.
The contract no longer mattered.
The company could wait.
For the first time that night, Damon realized that the $2.5 million deal he had been willing to risk everything for suddenly seemed meaningless.
He had a human life in the back seat.
And he wasn't going to lose it.
When he finally reached the hospital, Damon pulled up to the emergency entrance.
He jumped out.
"HELP!"
Hospital staff rushed toward him.
"She was hit by my car," he said quickly. "She's unconscious. She's losing blood."
The medical team immediately took over.
They transferred Eliana onto a stretcher and rushed her through the emergency doors.
Damon stood there for a moment.
His breathing was heavy.
His hands were trembling.
Then the doors closed.
And he was left standing alone.
---
The waiting room felt colder than it should have.
Damon paced back and forth.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Twenty.
His mind refused to settle.
He replayed the accident repeatedly.
The empty road.
The sudden movement.
The brakes.
The impact.
Her body lying on the ground.
He ran a hand through his hair.
His phone rang again.
This time he answered.
"What?"
"Sir, the clients are waiting."
"I know."
"Should I tell them you'll be—"
"Handle it."
There was a pause.
"Sir?"
Damon's temper snapped.
"I said handle it."
"Yes, sir."
"And send someone to take over the meeting for me."
"Of course."
Damon ended the call.
His assistant knew better than to argue with him.
Damon dropped into one of the waiting-room chairs.
For the first time since the accident, another thought entered his mind.
What if she dies?
His stomach tightened.
He hadn't intended for any of this to happen.
But intention didn't erase consequences.
If she died, he would have to live with the fact that his decision to speed had contributed to it.
And then there was the question of his reputation.
Damon was used to being careful about his public image.
One serious incident could become a nightmare for his company.
But even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt ashamed of himself.
Why am I thinking about my reputation when that girl is fighting for her life?
He lowered his head.
"No."
He whispered the word to himself.
"She just needs to survive."
---
The emergency doors finally opened.
Damon immediately stood.
A doctor walked toward him.
"Are you the man who brought the young woman in?"
"Yes."
"How is she?"
The doctor studied him for a moment before answering.
"She's stable."
Damon released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"She's going to be okay?"
"She's out of immediate danger."
Damon closed his eyes briefly.
Relief washed over him.
The doctor continued.
"She lost a significant amount of blood, and she has several injuries that will require monitoring. But considering what happened, she's incredibly fortunate."
Damon nodded slowly.
"She's a fighter."
That sentence stayed with him.
A fighter.
He looked toward the emergency doors.
He didn't know anything about this girl.
Yet somehow, he felt strangely relieved that she had survived.
"Can I see her?"
"Briefly. She's unconscious, but you can see her."
Damon nodded.
"Thank you."
He took a step toward the hallway before stopping.
"Doctor?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know anything about her family?"
"Not yet. We're still trying to establish her identity."
Damon's expression changed.
Her identity.
Her family.
Someone had to be looking for her.
Someone had to know where she belonged.
"I'll find them," he said quietly.
The doctor nodded and walked away.
Damon stood there for another moment.
Then a troubling thought entered his mind.
Who lets a young girl wander the streets alone this late at night?
And more importantly—
Why had she been running?
She hadn't been walking casually.
She had been terrified.
Damon remembered the look on her face before the accident.
The desperation.
The fear.
The way she had run into the road without looking.
Something had been chasing her.
Something had frightened her badly enough that she had forgotten to look for traffic.
Damon's expression hardened.
"Who were you running from?"
He didn't know it yet, but that question would eventually lead him straight to the truth about the girl lying unconscious in the hospital bed.
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