"Get the sat phone! Call an ambulance!" Jake yelled as he slammed his car door and braved the screeching tires to get to the other side of the car where Tracy had fortunately slumped unconscious against the seatbelt and her door. Her leg was bleeding and welted with a deep black and blue mark from being caught in the door and her hand was bleeding across the knuckles from the same. Casey didn't move.

"You little shit! You do what I say and do it-----." Jake undid the seat belt, and let Tracy slump into his arms, the heat of her alarming him. She must have a fever. Just touching her made him feel sick.

Casey got out and slammed his own door, but all he did was stick out his thumb for a ride. Several cars had pulled over.

Jake ordered another person to get the sat phone between the driver's seat and the front passenger's seat. As soon as it was brought he called 9-1-1 and requested an ambulance. It was doubtful at this hour they could get here any sooner than he could have taken her. He sat back on his haunches, examining the semi-conscious girl as she began to flutter into awareness once more. Another car stopped and the horse's butt leader of the band zoomed away.

"I'm sorry." Tracy mumbled, beginning to focus. Jake got the first aid kit he carried in all of his vehicle's trunks and had never had occasion to use. He started to clean her leg when another pair of hands gently pushed his away.

"I'm a medic." And in uniform, Jake observed as he moved to the side and allowed this man to take over. His legs were shaking anyway with his rage at Casey.

"I quit." He muttered to himself, running a hand over his hot forehead. He remembered Tracy's heat and asked the medic if he thought she had a fever. The man's hand rested against the girl's forehead just a second, and in her half-conscious awareness she shoved it feebly away.

He chuckled. "Maybe." He turned and looked up at Jake with startlingly blue eyes the color of gemstones, and just as deeply fringed as Tracy's own--- although he knew hers were blonde if she didn't put a ton of make-up on. He ran his hand over his head again, knowing he was sweating even in the cold.

"I'm Raine Maverick. Nice to meet you."

"Are you an officer?" Tracy's voice was at least coherent, and Jake breathed a sigh of relief. Who did one call when Tracy Nelson McCaffrey needed a next of kin call? Michael Adam Gage, that's who. He lifted the sat phone and plugged in the number.

"Yes. I'm an officer in the Navy." He gently lifted her leg so he could wrap the bandage around her cuts.

"They have officers in the Navy?" Tracy's voice was foggy and indistinct. She winced as his fingers dug into her calf. She tried to pull away. "Do you have to hurt me?"

Raine Maverick shrugged. "I'm not trying to hurt you, Miss. I'm trying to help you. Lucky for you your driver was able to get over in time so you didn't fall out of the car. It would have been a different picture entirely if you had."

"Yeah, I'd be dead." She groaned and pulled her leg away. "I'm okay. Just---- just go. I mean, thanks for helping me. I'll be okay now."

"Your driver has an ambulance coming, I'm pretty sure."

She moaned low and rolled her eyes. "Tell him to stop it. I don't want to go to the hospital. I have a migraine. That's it."

Raine Maverick crouched beside the car door and looked into the blurry eyes of the girl who had almost fallen out of her car. He could assess her for signs of serious brain trauma, but she really was squinting into the glare, and holding her ears to still the noise of the highway---- similar to someone with a migraine. "It still might be best for you go to the hospital anyway, and get checked out."

"Just call Jules. Tell Jake to call Jules." Tracy moaned nearly incoherently.

Raine's brows rose. "Who is Jules?"

Jake held up the phone as Raine turned to look at him, ready to relay the message and trying to block the view of other cars that had pulled over now. A camera crew in a large gray and blue KABC Eyewitness News van had pulled up.

"Where's Casey?" Tracy whispered, holding her head.

Jake waggled the phone and assessed the reporters about to descend on them. They could hear the sirens of the ambulance making its way through the traffic.

"Casey the Prick hitch-hiked to Tapas for his gig." Jake said in disgust. "He acts like he cares all about her, cares and cares, and then ditches her in the street after picking an epic fight...." Jake was rambling to himself but Raine Maverick caught some of the words.

His brows rose a notch as Tracy leaned heavily against the back seat. "I'm hearing familiar names put together with a very familiar face. You wouldn't perhaps be Tracy McCaffrey would you?"

Tracy shoved the wavering hand away from her face, even though it held a cool damp cloth to put on her forehead. She just wanted everyone to leave her alone. Being with Casey had caused a migraine and now she would have to make alternate arrangements to see Danny.

"Where's Jules?" She yelled and then breathily fell back against the seat as if the exertion alone killed her.

"I got Michael on the line, that's who I got. He says to take your sorry butt straight to the hospital that's what he says. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, that's what he says."

Tracy held her hand out, ignoring the uniformed officer who had helped her and was still helping her by wrapping her leg now in a sticky gauze ace bandage. "Let me talk to him."

Jake held the phone away. "The ambulance is here, thank God. I was beginning to think they'd never make it and she'd go on down to the shore and drown herself too. Whatever possessed you, stupid girl?"

"You're delusional." She said. "Give me the phone."

"I will do no such thing. And Michael says he will see you at the hospital, and he will not talk to you one minute before that, and you are not to use the sat phone to call Jules overseas." Jake was a rather large man, and he was twirling in agitated circles as he waited for the paramedics.

"Oh. My. Gosh!" Tracy muttered, sitting up straight now, her eyes clearing, as she checked out the work on her leg. She smiled wryly and nodded. "I can't tell you how grateful I am for you, but you have done enough. Thank you. Give me your address and I'll send you something to say thanks."

Raine sat back on his haunches and evaluated her. "Listen, you are Tracy, I have seen you in concert. You're older now, and more lovely than ever, but you're hurt and you need to go be checked out. I'll come with you if you want. I'm offering. It would be no bother, and not because you're a celebrity, but because I think you aren't completely in your right mind."

Tracy turned her eyes on him finally---- for the first time staring this Naval Officer right in the face. She blinked long and slow. Then she swallowed. Then she blew out her breath. "That's your final answer? I'm not in my right mind?"

Raine knew enough to be reasonably worried when any woman used that tone with him. His dark brows rose perceptibly. "You're not well?" He tried.

"I have a migraine?" She answered back, and then clamped both hands on her temples to prove it, running them back under her massively curly hair to grip her neck as if hot pokers were sticking into her.

Raine bounced to relieve the pressure in his legs. "Let me." He reached for her--- amazed this time that she let him--- and found pressure points. Tracy's hands fell to her lap, and he scooted closer, squatting now between her legs, as she actually leaned forward and allowed him to massage her head. He didn't know where she'd been heading, or if she needed perfectly styled hair, but his fingers splayed under its kinky tangles to press hard against her scalp, running carefully down her skull to her neck and back again.

The storm Michael had predicted earlier crackled overhead and a strong gust of wind whipped that riotously curled mass of hair into Raine's mouth. "Can you hold your hair?"

Her slim fingers rose carefully to grip the blowing tendrils, but she hung her head forward resting it far too familiarly on his shoulder. Again his surprise was tantamount to shock. Tracy McCaffrey--- the Tracy McCaffrey---- was resting her head on his shoulder and letting him massage her neck and head.

Hot on the heels of that sensational thought, was the one that really gripped him. She's just a girl--- a young girl, what? Nineteen or twenty? And she's obviously under a lot of stress. He could feel her stress with his fingers. He could feel the knots in her neck and shoulders, and the heavy weight of her head against him attested to her weariness.

Her words though had been---- bizarre to say the least.

Her breathing was rhythmic, relaxing now. For split seconds he could hear it, and then the wind whipped a rash of raindrops into the car, and the paramedics arrived just in time, clad in their loud crinkle plastic tarps, with a stretcher.

He spoke to her low and firm. "Tracy, the paramedics are here. Let's get your vitals taken and maybe get in the back of the ambulance out of this rain. They've got a stretcher, but I'll let you walk with my help if you can."

She didn't respond right away. Her head and his hands were connected and obviously, his ministrations were soothing her. One of her palms came up and held her forehead, the other remained face up, fingers completely open and relaxed against her jeans-clad thigh. Then finally she moved. "What you're doing is helping."

"I can tell." He grunted, feeling the tingles in his legs as he adjusted once more, cramping in this crouched position too long.

She sensed his discomfort. "Are your legs hurting?"

"Just a little." He quirked a grin at her as she lifted her face off his neck and shoulder and wiped her hand across her lips. Her eyes rose to his blearily now.

"I don't want to go to the hospital."

"I know. But why don't we at least get your vitals? And it's starting to rain pretty good, so let's go get in the back of the ambulance." He finally stretched up to his full height and ducked into the wind as the raindrops pelted his face. He glanced with authority at the paramedics talking to Jake, the chauffeur, and motioned for them to come over so he could explain what he thought she needed.

Tracy listened as this stranger told the paramedics that her injuries had been bandaged and were not serious, her headache could be managed, but he just wanted her checked. She most likely did not need to go to the hospital despite what her friend Michael may have said. Jake twirled in flabbergasted circles, but Raine's training precluded him actually making a dent in his diagnosis. Raine was used to people obeying him instantly. And he was used to ignoring civilians when necessary.

The paramedics looked at each other in bewildered silence, they weren't used to being the lesser authority on the scene, but they recognized the commanding presence of the Naval officer instantly. They looked to Jake. He nodded suspiciously, his eyes on Tracy.

She seemed to take it as the lesser of two evils and allowed Raine to help her up. With the cessation of blockage from the car door, the torrential downpour soaked them both instantly. Tracy realized her left pant leg had been cut up the seam to accommodate the bandage she sported, as it flapped against her and made walking even less tolerable. She kept her hand in her hair as the rivulets washed down her neck.

It wasn't far to the ambulance--- lights flashing and twirling, making her head spin. She knew she was going to throw up, and gagged reflexively. She heard the Officer explaining just this concept to the paramedics. She looked up from her spewed puke as someone handed her a rag--- reporters were in her face--- cameras were flashing. Jake was looking exasperated. And the Officer who had helped her looked compassionately into her eyes, as he smoothed her hair over her forehead.

Embarrassment flushed her cheeks before she allowed one of the paramedics to help her lay down.

She could see they were about to shut the doors. "Can you get his name for me? The guy who helped me?" One of the medics turned quickly as the doors slammed shut with a huge bang, and the sirens wailed to life.

One of them was using a blood pressure cuff on her arm, and it squeezed far too tight. She turned on her side, laying down, feeling sick again. The headache was worse without the guy to massage her neck. Somebody handed her a banana boat to throw up in.

She could hear pounding on the back doors. The paparazzi had figured out who it was inside this van. Ha! They couldn't get to her now! She closed her eyes as the ambulance jerked and bucked into the flow of traffic.

Seriously? Hadn't the Officer said she was just going to have her vitals checked? Apparently, he'd lied. It was just a ruse to get her in the ambulance. Just like all the rest of the men in her life. They all lied.

******