Frank froze; Amber was right. Lynette, stupid as she was, hadn't fastened her seatbelt. He rushed to her door and pulled it open.
There she sat, looking like a bloody mess; literally. She had a fairly big wound by her eyebrow and on her leg and shoulder. She had bruises and scratches, but overall, it wasn't too bad, she could have been worse, dead for example. And she was unconscious. Breathing, but unconscious.
He pulled her up into his arms. That was when he realized something was wrong with his arm. Lynette was not a petite, fragile little person, but she wasn't too heavy either, but his arm felt like it was burning and being stung by a million spikes.