Adrenaline flushed through his body, tingles zinging across his skin. His shoulders went rigid. He hadn’t heard her voice in seven months. That sweet Southern drawl that used to give him palpitations. Now it made his heart stop in its tracks.

“Something awful’s just happened. I—I fell, and I don’t rightly know where I am. Can you come for me?”

He rubbed his forehead, his thoughts spinning. “What?”

“I don’t want to be late, and I’m already just sopping wet, and my hair—”

“Late for what?”

“That is not funny, Zac Callahan.” She sounded near tears. “My head’s cranking, and I—I need you to come fetch me.”

“Lucy, you’re not making any sense. Why are you even calling me?”

There was a long pause. “Are you kidding me?”

He remembered that day seven months ago, returning from his weekend trip. The unanswered calls, the unanswered knock at her door. Being worried, calling her landlord only to find her apartment empty and Lucy gone.

His fingers tightened on the handset. “Call somebody else. You’re not my problem anymore.”

She gave a little gasp. “Why are you being so hateful?” The last words wobbled.

Why was he—? He pulled the phone from his ear, scowled at it, and put it back in place. “You’re the one who left, Lucy. If you need a ride, call a cab.” He started to hang up.

“Wait, Zac! Please. Oh my gosh, you can’t do this to me. I hit my head and there’s a great big lump and my head is pounding and I need help. I need you.”

His gut clenched hard. How many times in the recent months had he longed to hear those words from her lips? She sounded so . . . confused. So lost. And it wasn’t like she had any family left.

And you’re a great big sucker, Callahan.

“Please. I don’t know where I am or what’s going on. You have to help me.”

He leaned back against the bar. “Lucy. You need to go to the hospital. You must have a con—”

“I can’t go to the hospital!”

Zac dragged his palm over his scruffy jaw, remembering Lucy’s phobia. He’d never be able to talk her into an ER visit over the phone. Even when she’d torn a tendon in her ankle, she’d refused to go. An EMT friend of his had treated her in his apartment upstairs.

If she really had a head injury, it could be bad. She could even have bleeding on the brain or something.

He sighed hard, knowing he sounded put out and not caring. He really was a sucker. “Where are you?”

“I—I don’t know. Hold on. Don’t hang up.”

A shuffling noise sounded in the phone. He strained to hear over the clamor of voices and clanging of silverware.