Allen was just finishing up with a patient when the pneumatic doors opened and Rafael Holden-Deane walked in, a blanket wrapped bundle in his arms. It didn't take much for him to recognize the red hair.

Holden-Deane carrying her around was starting to become a familiar sight at FCGH. And people were beginning to talk.

Not that it was a far stretch from the way the two always fought to something more sexual in nature. Passion guided humanity, after all.

He finished with his current patient, then stepped toward the two. He waved at Annie to follow.

"What happened?" Allen asked. Jillian’s hair was darker red than usual. From blood. Damn it; she’d been through enough lately.

"The window shattered behind her. At least two dozen small cuts, at least six that will require flushed and stitched. Do we have anyone else free as well? I want her taken care of quickly."

The rage in the other man’s words was hard to miss. As was the way the two of them clung to each other. Allen tried to push some of the sting of seeing her with another man away.

Allen shook his head. What the hell had happened? "No. We’re swamped, as it is. We need Lacy back; any word when she's returning?"

"It'll be another month, at least. I want her healed completely before she steps foot in this building again." Holden-Deane sat Jillian down on the gurney. She was surprisingly quiet for Jillian. The other man pulled the blanket back just as Jillian's brother-in-law and sister—complete with newborn baby—stepped into the exam bay.

Allen saw the fear in her sister’s eyes. The worry. Brynna Marshall clutched her baby close and stepped nearer to Jillian. "Elliot's coming, Jilly. To find out what happened. The TSP are on their way to Rafe's house now. What happened? What happened?"

“I’m going to be ok, Bryn. No bullets hit me. I promise.”

“But what happened and why?”

A question Allen wanted answered himself. He looked at Holden-Deane. "Good question. How did this happen? Something come through the window?"

"You might say that," Jillian said. Allen studied her for a moment while Annie prepped everything they would need to flush the wounds. Holden-Deane pulled the blanket the rest of the way off of her, revealing what Jillian was wearing beneath. Just a bloodied white undershirt. And the shorts were thin cotton navy that hung below her knees.

It wasn't exactly an outfit most women would choose to wear out in public.

The clothes belonged to a man. A very big man.

Much like the one hovering over her right now.

Her lips were swollen, like she'd spent a few hours kissing someone. And that was beard burn on the side of her neck opposite the scar. Allen strongly suspected Jillian had just climbed out of someone's bed.

He knew just whose bed she’d been in, too.

Annie had everything ready, fast and efficient as always. She was a sweet girl, and one hell of a nurse. Very pretty, too, in a quiet understated way. He’d looked at her before, had considered asking her out but had thought better of it. He would frighten a woman like Annie Gaines to death and he knew it.

She and Jillian were close; maybe not as close as Jillian and Lacy and Ari, but close enough to be considered friends. Annie stepped behind Jillian with a pair of scissors and began cutting the cotton out of the way. Annie winced. Allen stepped behind the bed and took a look at why.

A 3-inch shard of glass stuck out of Jillian's back. It had to hurt, but she wasn't saying anything—just sitting there quietly, letting them take care of her.

Because she trusted them. And because Jillian was tough as nails.

Holden-Deane hovered, for lack of a better term, as Allen went to work. While Allen handled the bigger shards, Holden-Deane and Annie cleaned the smaller wounds. Jillian flinched a time or two, even with the numbing agent Allen used. But she didn't jerk away.

Holden-Deane finished before he did, the nicks and scratches he dealt with far less significant than the six or so on Jillian's back that Allen was treating. Jillian had shooed her sister and brother-in-law out of the exam room, stating she was just fine with Holden-Deane there beside her.

The sister had protested, but the brother-in-law had dragged her out of the room.

Allen liked to think he knew the Becks well enough, but even he felt awkward around them, considering how close he had been to Logan.

Allen tried not to think about that. He still grieved the loss of his best friend. He probably always would. Jillian and Holden-Deane had been up there when Logan had died. Had watched it all happen right before them. Had that been it? Had that been what had driven her into Holden-Deane's arms?

He finished with the last cut, flushing it thoroughly. They’d need to take a few images to see if any shards were working their way deeper before they sutured the rest.

By the time he was finished, Holden-Deane had Jillian's head cuddled on his shoulder and her hands clutched his arms tightly.

It was obvious to anyone who looked at them that they had been in each other's arms before. Touched each other intimately before.

Allen just wondered how Jillian's cards were going to fall next.