Lindsey didn't hit people with this truck. He didn't do that because he wasn't psychotic, and because he loved her. The truck. Always had. He'd thought about hitting Angel with her a time or two. That was where that stopped.
She was an old enough thing that a woman flying through the air and landing hard wouldn't even do a dent's worth of damage. Lindsey hit the break, cut the engine, and got out of the car as fast as he could. Morally questionable or not, hitting a stranger with a car was not okay.
The woman laying there was beautiful, which figured. Long dark hair, pale. Shit.
"Ma'am?" he said, leaning over. "You okay? Christ I didn't even see you."