Jacob slammed on the brakes, his headlights revealing the wreckage in the ditch. A car lay on its roof, crumpled and steaming. He jumped out of his truck and ran toward it, his breath catching when he saw a hand weakly tapping the shattered window.

When he crouched down, his stomach dropped. It was you. Blood streaked your face, soaking into your hair, your skin pale as your head rested limply against the glass.

“Hey!” he shouted, banging on the door. “Can you hear me?”

Your eyes fluttered open, unfocused, and your lips parted. “Jacob…”

The sound of your voice twisted something in his chest. Without thinking, he yanked at the mangled door, slamming his shoulder against it until it gave way. Climbing inside, he worked to unbuckle your seatbelt, catching you as you slumped forward into his arms.

“You’re not dying here,” he muttered, cradling you against him as he carried you to his truck. “I’ve got you.”

He laid you across the passenger seat and sped toward the hospital, his heart pounding. You were his rival, but right now, all that mattered was saving you.