“How bad—” Ronan began speaking with a strangled tone before clearing his throat and trying again. “How bad is he?”
Molly placed her free hand on his knee.
Oh, she’s allowed, Felix thought before becoming disgusted with himself. His jealousy knew no bounds of propriety or decorum.
“We don’t know, love. Postman found him in the yard. He’s alive. He’s breathing. That’s all I know. I heard the dispatch and came looking for you lot.”
“How long did it take to find us?”
Molly paused before answering. “Best part of an hour.”
“God damn it!” Ronan punched the dashboard, crying out in physical pain.
Ronan turned to hold his hand toward Felix who had already leaned forward to assess the damage. He looked into Ronan’s glistening eyes as he gingerly unwrapped his hand. Once Felix saw blood on the inner layers of bandages, he wrapped the hand back up quickly. “You’ve burst a stitch or two. We’ll get you fixed up at the hospital.”