He unbuckled Deja’s seatbelt and checked her pulse. At first, he thought she didn’t have one, but at last he found it, and she drew in breaths so shallow her chest didn’t rise by much.“Do you want me to help carry her?” the small man asked.Heath flicked his gaze toward him, and the man shrank away.“You shouldn’t be here,” he told him. “You should disappear, because they will find you and kill you.” Heath didn’t know why he’d come all this way, but the man had helped guide him through the facility to the parking lot where they retrieved the man’s car. “Thank you for your help.”Heath turned his back on the man with Deja in his arms, and he rushed into the emergency room. People milled around waiting for their names to be called. Hospital staff scurried about or worked with lethargy behind a desk.“Someone help her,” he demanded.All eyes shifted to him and Deja, and he could imagine the thoughts flying through their heads. Deja in a shirt and nothing else, and him in ragged jeans, bare-chested, and barefoot.
