“Ms. Boudreau.” A cold metal disc pressed against my chest as the congenial voice droned, “Ms. Boudreau, can you hear me?”
“Luce.” A fierce growl laced with command splintered my head. “Wake up.”
“No.” I pried open my eyes and squinted at the pockmarked ceiling. “No . . . hospitals.”
“This isn’t a hospital.” The first speaker solidified into a middle-aged man with thinning hair. “This is a private clinic.”
Pulse hammering in my ears, I swatted away his hand. “Don’t touch me.” I braced my palms on the table and pushed upright while my body protested going vertical. “Just . . . don’t.”
“He didn’t examine your arms or your shoulders.” Cole shuffled the doctor aside so that he dominated my field of vision. “I carried you in, and I stayed with you the whole time. I never let you out of my sight.”
Stupid, grateful tears welled in my eyes. “Thank you.”
“I called your father. He’s on his way.” His gaze lingered on my damp cheeks. “Can you lie back down for me?”
“I don’t . . . ” My elbows buckled and went out from under me. Cole lunged forward, caught me in his arms and lowered me as softly as a whisper. “I meant to do that.”
“I’m sure.” Amusement glinted in his eyes, and I traced the crinkles at their corners. The fine lines vanished at my touch, and he firmed his lips. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
A distant part of my brain rebelled against me wasting precious time. I had been on my way somewhere to do something important. The urge still clawed at me, but I couldn’t remember what I had been doing, and my icy calm had abandoned me. “What happened?”
“Thom swerved to miss a deer.” He arranged a wafer-thin pillow under my head then withdrew. “You hit the right side of your head on the window. You’ve got a concussion.”
That all sounded scary, so I pushed those worries aside. “Dad’s on his way?”
He checked the cheap, plastic wall clock. “He should be here any minute—”
“Luce.”
“—now,” he finished. “Thom, lead Sergeant Boudreau back.”
Shuffling noises sounded behind me. Thom had either been standing watch at my back or in the hall. I couldn’t tell. My sense of direction skewed to one side, and, without Cole’s touch anchoring me, I gripped the edges of the table to keep from rolling off onto the floor.
“Relax. I won’t let you fall.” Cole made it a promise.
“You.” Dad choked out the word. “Get away from my daughter. I can handle things from here.” Dad interrupted my line of sight. “Baby girl, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”
“A car wreck,” I told him matter-of-factly. “A kamikaze deer got me.”
“Is that so?” He aimed the question at Cole. “A deer?”
If Cole answered him, I didn’t hear.
“Daddy.” I rolled onto my side. “I think I’m going to . . . ”
Gut heaving, I emptied the contents of my stomach onto his boots.
“Is it safe to move her?” he asked the doctor. “Can I take her home?”
“Home is the best place for her. She’s shaken, a little woozy and nauseated, but stable.” He passed a note over me, a prescription maybe. “Seek medical attention immediately if her condition worsens.”
“Thank you for your help.” Dad clasped hands with the doctor, then jerked back, his face purpling as Cole slid his warm hands under my back. Dad gripped the front of the much bigger man’s shirt. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m carrying her out to your truck.” Cole tucked me against him with a possessive growl. “Are you going to fight me over this or get the door?”
Thom materialized at my elbow, and his lip curled at my father.
“I’ll get the door.” Dad pointed at Thom. “You stay right where you are, Thomas.”
I must have gotten hit a lot harder than I thought, because it sounded like my dad had just called Thom by his full name. The incident at Hannigan’s would have made the rounds by now, so I figured Dad knew Cole’s record like the back of his hand. But Thom hadn’t been there. How could Dad know him? Unless he had pulled files for all of White Horse’s people. That was a Dad thing to do.
Thanks to the thousand-pound gorilla clapping my throbbing head between his cymbals, I nuzzled the space between Cole’s pectorals and shoved all that nasty logic business into the back of my head for later dissection.
The men didn’t exchange another word until Cole had me propped up on the passenger side of Dad’s pickup. That all changed once the door shut. Dad was madder than a wet hen, and Cole didn’t look far behind him. They kept their voices too soft for me to pick up the particulars, but neither man looked pleased when the confrontation ended. Cole ignored my dad while he cleaned off his boots, his stare a cutting, vicious thing.
He didn’t want to let me go. I could tell. I don’t know how, but I could. That protective streak of his kept popping up when I least expected, and . . . it was nice. Maybe that’s why it made me so suspicious.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I settled in and let my eyes shut. “You and Cole have history, don’t you?”
“We’ll talk tomorrow, after you’ve rested.”
“Promise?” Of all the things I might forget about tonight, this was not one of them.
“I promise.” He patted my knee. “Now rest.”
I scooted closer and curled against his side, resting the good side of my head against his shoulder. “Okay, Daddy.”