Damien noticed the fear in her eyes, then the blood on his arm. "You're bleeding!" she cried out.
"It's all right, I'm fine," he said, the lie feeling hollow even to his own ears. He reached into the car and, with a gentleness that surprised even himself, lifted her into his arms. He went to put her down, but she cried out, and he realized she was favouring one leg. He saw a piece of metal peeking from the fabric of her jeans, blood staining the denim.
"It's all right, it doesn't hurt," she said softly, her eyes fixed on the blood on his arm. In that moment, surrounded by the wreckage, their gazes locked again.
Then, her eyes rolled back, and she fainted, collapsing fully into his arms.
Just then, the wail of sirens grew closer. Paramedics swarmed the scene. As they lifted the young woman into the ambulance, a ring slipped from her finger and fell to the rain-soaked asphalt. Drawn by an inexplicable impulse, Damien ducked down and picked up the delicate band. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to keep it. He slipped it into his pocket just as Marco, groaning, came to his senses.
"Mr. Sterling?" Marco's voice was loud, cutting through Damien's thoughts.
"I'm here, Marco," Damien replied.
Looking back at the scene, Damien watched the paramedics cover the other driver's body with a white cloak. He didn't know their names. They were strangers. But he knew their lives, and his, were now intertwined.
Marco, still dazed, fumbled for his phone and dialled a number. "Johnny," he said. "Come pick us up. I've shared the location. And bring a blanket."
Damien stood motionless in the rain until a sleek black car pulled up. Johnny, a man with a worried expression, stepped out. "Let's get you home, sir," Johnny said.
As Johnny pulled away from the scene, Damien reached for the ring in his pocket, holding it tight. He glanced back at Marco, who was talking to the police officer.
On the drive back, Damien borrowed Johnny's phone and called Sam Wellington, the heir of the Wellington family. "I'm injured, so I can't make it tonight; let's move it for tomorrow. I'll have Jones notify the press early in the morning," Damien said. The contract they were about to sign was for new AI software.
Sam Wellington's sarcastic tone came through the line. "Don't tell me you're dying?"
Damien spoke: "Can't give you that joy just yet."
Sam then dryly said: "Fine. Tomorrow at noon at my company. Don't be late for the signing." The line went dead.
Damien ran his hand over his arm, wishing he could focus on the Wellington deal instead of a dead driver and a woman he couldn't name.
He told Johnny to tell Marco to handle everything, to ensure his name remained out of the official reports. He needed to understand the strange pull he felt toward the young woman, but he didn't want his family or the press involved.