“Y-your bike,” she mumbled, the quiver in her voice already betraying how close she was to the edge. She hadn’t expected it, hadn’t been shielded, and now the violent energy of two furious men was driving through her body. “Keys. On my purse.” She bit her lip on a cry as a muscle in the back of her thigh clenched hard.
“I’ll throw it in the trunk or something, or come back for it later — that doesn’t matter, Summer. We need to get you home,” he said firmly and kissed her on the cheek once more, scooping her up into his arms as he rummaged through her purse. “Are you okay? Do you need me to heal you?”
“Th-there’s a bike rack,” she said, carefully through the increasing muscle tremors. She put her arms around his neck and clamped her wrists together. “I cli-clip the keys to the outside, silly.” Her words were a little slurred, even as she said, “I’m n-not h-hurt.”