I nod. My arms won’t stop trembling. I ease her down, supporting her head as I shift out of the way.
The medic rolls up her sleeve and clips a pulse oximeter to her finger.
“Vitals are unstable. Pulse is 120. Skin’s clammy and yellow tinted, breathing shallow. What happened?” He glances at me, then the other two, as Logan and Doug come to stand with Jace.
I shake my head. “She collapsed.”
He checks her eyes with a penlight, then pulls a compact scanner from his bag and holds it near the gland at the base of her throat. The device beeps as a red light flashes.
“Omega near a heat,” he mutters under his breath. “How the hell did she get cleared for a job working with Alphas?”
We don’t answer. I have no clue how she faked it for so long.
He grabs his radio. “I need EMS to Coldwater Arena. Adult Omega female, unconscious. Possible liver failure. Fever and rapid pulse. Risk of scent-triggering an Alpha rut. I need immediate transport.”
Frankie shifts, just a twitch, then stills again.
Jace kneels beside her. His fingers clutch her shoulder. Logan stands behind him, hands fisted at his sides. Doug runs a hand over his head, a deep frown on his face. When this gets back to her job, it’s not going to be good.
The medic glances at me and then at Jace. “Are you her Alphas?”
“Yeah.” I grip on her hand. “We are.”
“Then one of you will ride with her. The rest will have to follow.”
Jace looks at me. I nod.
“I’ll go.”
Two EMTs show up moments later from the hospital down the street. They work fast, hooking up oxygen and strapping her in before we follow them out of the arena. They load her into the ambulance. One holds the door open.
I climb in without another word, take her hand, and don’t let go. The doors shut behind me. I see Jace and Logan already pulling out their phones through the windows. I’m sure they can figure out a ride to the hospital and alert Wes to what’s going on.
“Hold on.” I press my lips to her hairline. “Just hold on.”
We can’t lose her, again.
11 years ago…
The cabin door opens, revealing Marcy. She looks us over and arches a dark brow before she glances over her shoulder. “Fran, it’s your dates.”
Marcy leaves the doorway and Frankie steps into view.
I don’t want to blink, so I can remember this moment with crystal clarity for the rest of my life. The sparkly blue dress hugs her waist and falls to just above her knees. Her curls are elegantly half up and half down.
It’s different to see her wearing makeup, the blue eye-shadow makes her brown eyes pop, and our necklace glitters in the sun at her chest. All of it makes my mouth go dry. She’s always pretty, but tonight she’s downright breathtaking.
Knowing that we’re going to be seen with her as her dates fills me with so much pride. I can’t wait for everyone to know that we’re more than friends, that she’s off-limits to anyone who isn’t in our group, like that putz Benji.
She hesitates in the doorway. Her hands run over her skirt, and she doesn’t make eye contact with any of us.
Jace lets out a low whistle. “Damn, Frankie, I can’t believe we get to call you our date. You’re stunning.”
Wes nods. “You look gorgeous.”
Logan grins, stepping forward. “You’re beautiful.”
“Yeah.” I nod, my voice is steadier than I feel. “You look incredible.”
