Lucky Harbor: At Last Part 25

"I've got you," he said, nudging her down to the step, lifting her sweater. They both looked at the two-inch-long gash on her side.

"Look at that," she said weakly. "He got me."

Matt yanked his own s.h.i.+rt over his head and turned it inside out before gently pressing it against her side. "He who?"

"Actually, I think it was the bottle," she said. "It broke, and I must have rolled on it."

"What bottle? Amy, stay with me."

She struggled to do just that, but the pain of the cut was. .h.i.tting her now, stealing her breath. "Riley used a bottle to hit her stepbrother over the head. It broke, and I rolled away from him but..." More old memories surfaced. Her stepfather's footsteps coming down the hallway toward her bedroom. You owe me, Amy. You owe me big... Yeah. She knew exactly what Troy had wanted from Riley. Amy had escaped her own nightmare before it'd come to fruition by being strong and mean. She hoped Riley had escaped as well, but she was having her doubts.

"Amy." Cupping her face, Matt made her look at him. "Keep your eyes open." He spoke evenly, his voice remarkably matter-of-fact, as if he might be inquiring about the weather. She found the simple tone incredibly steadying.

"Riley's brother," he said. "That's who attacked you?"

"No, he attacked Riley. I attacked him."

He drew a breath and squeezed her hand very gently. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"I don't think so."

He nodded, then ran his hands over her body himself, checking to make sure before lifting her in his arms and carrying her toward his truck.

"Where are we going?"

"The ER. You need a few st.i.tches."

"What?" Adrenaline surged. So did panic. She hated doctors. Hated hospitals. "No. I want to try to find Riley."

He didn't slow down.

"Matt, no. No hospital."

"No would normally work on me," he said. "But not this time."

"I-"

"Nonnegotiable, Amy."

Matt carefully buckled Amy into his truck and jogged around to the driver's seat, simultaneously calling Josh. By luck, Josh was at the ER and promised to be waiting for them.

Matt had been on an untold number of search-and-rescue calls and highway patrol a.s.sists, not to mention all he'd seen and done as a SWAT cop in Chicago.

But Amy bleeding undid him.

She undid him. Completely. He hadn't wanted to get involved in a relations.h.i.+p with her, but given his current accelerated heart rate, he'd done exactly that. For so long he'd blamed himself for his failed marriage, which had allowed him to easily keep his distance from other women.

And then Amy had walked right past all his brick walls. What was it about her?

"I don't need st.i.tches," she said for the tenth time.

He turned to glance at her as he pulled out of her parking lot, but the interior of the truck was too dark.

"I don't," she said firmly, but her voice trembled, giving her away.

"Did you know that Riley had a brother?" he asked, hoping to distract her because they were going to the ER.

"Stepbrother," she said. "And no, I didn't know."

"What did he want?"

"Riley," she said grimly. "He had her pinned to the wall. I yelled at him, trying to get his attention off of her and onto me instead."

Jesus. "And that's when he cut you."

"No. I was backing away from him and tripped. He was on me before I could blink, and that's when Riley came after him with a bottle. Knocked him out." She shook her head. "I dragged us into the diner to call the police, but then Troy vanished. And so did Riley. I ended up at home, and you were there. Why were you there again?"

Good question. He'd felt like such a complete d.i.c.kwad about how he'd acted earlier. He had no excuse, none, and he'd come to her place to apologize. "Did he touch you? Did he-"

"I'm fine. I just want to go home."

"Soon." He pulled into the ER. Josh met them as promised. Mallory was there as well, in her scrubs, ready with a warm hug and a calm, steady smile as she got Amy settled into a cubicle and prepped for st.i.tches.

Josh examined the wound. "Nicely done, Champ. What happened?"

Amy was shaking. The pain and shock had hit her. "Had a fight with a broken bottle," she said.

Josh tsked. "Hate that." He nudged Matt out of his way, then sat on the stool at Amy's side. "I have a few questions. Want me to kick out the brooding ranger first?"

Amy's eyes slid to Matt, who did his best to look like a piece of equipment. A very necessary piece of equipment. Amy shook her head. "No. He can stay."

Which was good, since he wasn't going anywhere.

Josh shooed him around to the opposite side of Amy's bed, where he could take her hand and be the moral support team. Mallory stayed next to Josh, behind the instrument tray, ready to a.s.sist.

"So who was wielding the bottle?" Josh asked.

"Riley," Amy said, and rubbed her temples. "But it wasn't her fault. She was fighting off her stepbrother."

"He touch you? You hurt anywhere else?"

"No."

Josh ran a gentle finger over her cheek, where a small bruise was forming. "What's this from?"

"I don't know. Maybe from when I fell. I'm not sure."

Josh nodded, not taking his eyes off hers. "Sometimes a victim doesn't like to talk about what happened to them, but-"

"Nothing happened." Amy met first Mallory's concerned gaze, and then Matt's, before looking back at Josh. "Really. Riley knocked him out, and he vanished before I could call the police. The end."

"Did you call the police afterward?" Josh asked.

"I never got a chance to make the call. Troy vanished, and then I was with Riley..."

"That's okay," Josh said. "You've got a law enforcement officer right here." He gestured to Matt.

Amy turned her head and looked up at him. He nodded, stroking the hair back from her face. "We'll make a report," he said. "Then find Riley. Okay?"

She hesitated, her gaze searching his, then slowly, she nodded.

"St.i.tches first," Josh said.

"I'm not good at st.i.tches," Amy said.

Josh smiled. "That's okay. I am."

"This is true," Mallory a.s.sured her. "He's the best."

Josh was examining the wound closely. Looks like maybe five to six st.i.tches total. Won't leave much of a scar."

"Can't you just glue it or something?" Amy asked.

"Not this time," Josh said. "But I'll be quick, and you'll be nice and numbed up, no worries." From out of Amy's range of sight, he reached for a fat needle and nodded to Matt.

Matt bent low and brushed his lips over Amy's temple, palming her jaw to keep her face turned to him and not at what Josh was doing. "Hey, Tough Girl."

"Hey back. This sucks," she said, wincing when Josh began to numb her. "This sucks golf b.a.l.l.s."

"It'll be over before you know it," Josh promised. "That's how good I am."

Amy grimaced again but said nothing as he continued to work.

Matt did his part to keep her attention off the needle, stroking a finger over a small scar bisecting her eyebrow. "This one looks interesting. How did you get it?"

Amy let out a shaky breath. "When I was seventeen, I stole my boyfriend's brand-new bike to get to work, then crashed it."

Josh chuckled, his big fingers working quickly, efficiently. "If I'd been around back then, you wouldn't still have the scar."

"c.o.c.ky."

"Just very good," he said. "Keep looking at pretty boy there."

Matt slid Josh a look, which Josh ignored with a smirk.

"Check out his chin," Josh said to Amy. "Two years ago, Matt fell at the South Rim. It was a p.u.s.s.y climb, too. Luckily for him, I was right there. He dislocated his shoulder and cut up his face. I fixed him up so that he can still be a cover model any time he wants."

Amy laughed softly. "Cover model?"

Matt opened his mouth but Josh beat him to it. "He made the cover of Northwest Forestry last year. You probably missed that issue, but the nurses here have it hanging in their break room." Josh was smiling as he told this story, and if he hadn't been wielding the needle with smooth dexterity while he was at it, Matt might have been tempted to shut his mouth for him.

"You're doing great, Amy," Josh said. "Three st.i.tches in, only a couple more to go."

When he'd finished, he helped her upright, gave her some prescriptions, and then was paged away.

"You okay?" Matt asked her.

She nodded. "I'm good to go."

Impressed with her toughness, he slid an arm around her. "I'll take you home. I want to talk to Riley."

Amy went still for a beat, then did a forced relax thing that had Matt taking a second look at her. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing."

He shouldn't care that she didn't trust him. It shouldn't matter. He hadn't wanted her to trust him, hadn't needed her to trust him, because this wasn't going to be a relations.h.i.+p. But apparently he'd finally gotten over himself and could face the fact that he was ready to move on from the past. Because for the first time in recent memory, he wanted to be trusted. By her.

Amy was definitely not on her A-game, which was the only explanation she had for walking right into a trap of her own making. Riley wasn't staying with her. Riley wasn't going to show up to sleep at her apartment tonight. Which Matt didn't know because Amy had lied to him. She'd known this would happen, that it would come back and bite her in the a.s.s. She needed to think, but the problem with that was her brain wasn't in gear.

"Amy." Right there in the hospital hallway, Matt sat her in a chair, then crouched in front of her, weight balanced easily on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. "Where's Riley?"

Conflicting emotions battered her, but she let anger lead the pack. He'd walked away from her so he didn't get to look at her like he was right now, all warm, genuine concern. It hurt. It hurt more than her side did, which was really saying something.

"Amy."

d.a.m.n. d.a.m.n him. Because she wasn't angry at all. She was sad. She ached to tell him the truth-that Riley wasn't staying with her. But how could she? The terrified teen was going through h.e.l.l, and she'd trusted Amy.

Trust that hadn't been easily given.

If Amy told Matt the truth, he'd be forced by his job to act, and Riley would think she couldn't trust anyone.

But it was more than that. No one had ever really trusted Amy, not like Riley had. Not even Matt trusted her like that. There was no way in h.e.l.l that Amy would betray her.

"Amy." Matt's voice was low and calm, and also laced with steel.

He wanted answers.

"I don't know where she is exactly." She didn't owe him more, she reminded herself. "How can I? I'm here."

Matt didn't say anything to this, though he registered her defensive tone with an arched brow.

"I'd like to go home now," she said. "I'm tired." Tired of the both of them.

Matt rose to his feet, wrapped his jacket around her, then led her outside to his truck. They went to the pharmacy first for her antibiotics and pain killers, then Matt drove her home in silence, for which Amy was eternally grateful. She was hurting, both physically and mentally. She was also confused. Historically, she'd made her most c.r.a.ptastic decisions while hurt and confused, which meant that the best thing for her right now was to be alone.

Matt parked, and she made her move before he'd even turned off the engine. She opened the door to hop out, but was snagged by the back of the jacket he'd loaned her.

"I want to go with you and check things out," he said.