Goodbye My Alpha (Taya and Griffon) novel Chapter 102

Jackson startled when he heard a loud bang behind him.
He rushed over to the crashed car and saw Taya slumped against the steering wheel, her face white as a sheet.
His chest tightened subconsciously.
He yanked at the door handle to get her out, but the car was locked.
Knocking hard on the window, he said, “Ms. Palmer, open the door!”
Taya didn’t move to unlock the doors.
Shit. She must be unconscious.
Jackson smashed the back window on the driver’s side so that no glass would get on her, then reached through it to unlock the front door.
Thank the goddess he was a shifter, or else he wouldn’t have had the strength to break the window so easily.
He opened Taya’s door, the quickly and carefully pulled Taya out of the car.
She wasn’t unconscious, but she was almost there. Taya grabbed his arm as if she were desperate. With difficulty, and after a couple of tries, she spat out the word “oxygen.”
Jackson’s mind went blank when he heard that word. Scenes flashed through his mind so quickly that he felt a headache coming on.
Rather than lay her on the ground, Jackson picked Taya up and carried her. He turned to his Beta. “Get someone from the hotel to bring me oxygen.”
It would be too late for them to go to the hospital now.
Jackson hoped this hotel was equipped with more first-aid items than a lot of shifter hotels were. Shifters didn’t need much in the way of medical treatment unless it was a more serious wound, so many places didn’t keep much of anything on hand.
They figured their guests could shift into their wolf form to heal, then shift back.
Fortunately, this hotel was owned by the Sterling pack. Since they were a pack who dealt with humans, they had made sure that the hotel was prepared for human first-aid needs.
The hotel manager quickly sent someone to get the small oxygen tank they kept on hand in case of extreme emergencies.
Jackson carried Taya into the presidential suite she had booked for him. Goddess, her face was so pale.
Suddenly, he was afraid she would die like this. He hurriedly contacted his good friend Eric Sinclair, who happened to be at a conference in Arcadia.
After waking up Eric—who had an extremely regimented schedule—Jackson gave him the address, told him to hurry, and then hung up the phone.
***
Eric frowned in confusion. He tossed his phone aside and rolled over to go back to sleep. After a couple of seconds, he opened his eyes again.
“Did I hear that right? Jackson asked me to save someone?”
Jackson was the most even-keeled person Eric knew, who had no real emotion attachments.
Who could make Jackson call him in the middle of the night?
Eric’s OCD was telling him that he HAD to sleep right now. Part of managing his compulsions was keeping a rigid schedule that he didn’t deviate from.
But he found he could not sleep. At all.
Apparently, tonight he would be breaking his self-imposed rules.
He got up, picked up his car keys, and headed to the address Jackson had given him.