When Jillian woke, Ari was sound asleep in a chair between her and Lacy’s beds and Rafael Holden-Deane was leaning over her. He wrapped a big hand around the rail of her bed and peered down at her from those demon-dark eyes of his. “Well, you’re awake. We’ve been waiting.”

“We?”

“McGareth was awake for an hour or so. But she’s back under. Apparently pain meds really knock her for a loop. You should hear some of the things she said to Travis a while ago. My cheeks are permanently red, thanks to the two of them.”

“Yes. They do. She’s the same way when she’s had a single beer. No filter at all, that woman. And she never remembers. I’m going to record her one day. It’s entertaining,” Jillian tried to shift in the bed, but the bandages holding her leg in place prevented it. “Help me sit up, please.”

She had to admit the hands he put on her were gentle. “How’s that?”

He’d lifted her right off the mattress and adjusted her like she weighed next to nothing. “Much better. So what’s the damage?”

“You’ll live. Indirect injury caused us some concern. We typed and crossed, filled you right back up.”

“Not me. Lacy and Ari.” She tried not to look at her only source of information like he was a doofus, but...she could tell what had happened to herself just fine. She could move everything, feel everything and she hadn’t lost too much blood. If she had, they’d apparently put it right back in.

“Lacy suffered the most damage, with a compound fracture of her left arm and some internal bruising. We were concerned for her spleen but she managed to keep it. She does have a nasty concussion, but her GCS was a twelve a little while ago, even under sedation.” He narrowed a look at her. “Then you. Ariella had basically scratches and a few broken ribs.”

“We put her in the back with the plastic rolls of underlayment. Lacy called dibs on the passenger seat. She always does. Ari doesn’t ever argue. Lacy was on the side that slammed into that tree.”

“And the driver slammed into your side. You’re lucky. All three of you.” He surprised her when he took a blanket out of the cabinet and spread it over Ariella, almost without thinking. Then he settled down on the mattress near Jillian’s feet. “Chance mentioned arrests.”

“I remember talking to Elliot last night. He works fast.”

“Yes, he does. I’m sorry your evening turned so nasty last night. It wasn’t all that great to start out, either.”

“Yeah. That seems to keep happening to us a lot over the last eight months. I’m ready for it to stop.” She leaned back against the pillow, almost forgetting for a moment that the man leaning over her was Rafael Holden-Deane. Like him or not, he was a hell of a lot safer to deal with than a madman on the highway trying to kill them. “Does it ever stop?”

He was silent for a moment. “I saw some shit in Africa that made it clear that it doesn’t. All you can do it keep the ones you love close. It’s why I came home. For my brothers. I was hurt in a bombing in Djibouti. I hadn’t been out of the hospital a week before I learned Travis had been sideswiped in a taxi in Tokyo. I made the decision on the flight to get him that it was time I returned home. Where I belonged. With the ones who’d give a damn if I was hurt.”

“Bryn was impaled when the TSP was bombed. I watched a man who’d been flirting with Lacy nearly get blown open when Houghton’s limo was hit. Ten seconds later and Lacy and I would have been in that limo, two of my sisters right after us. I’m not so sure evil is still there in Africa. I think it’s finding its way to Finley Creek.”

“I think it’s been here for a while now.” Jillian listened as he listed the injuries Lacy had sustained and then her own wounds. And he ended with what she suspected were Ariella’s. “The laceration on her forehead most likely came from—”

“A bullet. I know. Does she?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t mentioned it to anyone. That doesn’t mean someone else hasn’t. Why?”

“She almost died out there. We all did. She’ll need some time to process that.” Jillian settled back against the pillow. Like it or not, she was exhausted. And hurting. “What’s on the menu for pain management? I could really use something right now.” A strong dose of morphine, followed by three days of straight sleep should do the trick.

He checked the chart quickly, then frowned. “No Solpalmitraln. For either of you. I’ve changed Jacobson’s rec. See that the nurse follows my orders.”

“Gotcha, captain, though I’m sure they will. You scare everyone into complying.”