waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine.”
“You think you are, but there may be internal injuries.”
“There are definitely external ones,” he said through gritted teeth as he crossed back over to his wrecked car.
Steeling himself, he walked around it. The meticulous paint job that had taken months to complete now covered a misaligned and bent hood, caved-in side door and hanging fender. His jaw clenched in anger. Accidents happened, a fact of life. But this one could easily have been avoided. Even if a dog had crossed the street—an excuse that he found suspect, since he saw no dog in sight—there would have been more control and time to act if she hadn’t been speeding. Her actions were reckless, her reaction less than responsible or contrite. Of all the Drake brothers, Ike was normally the calmest, most calculating and even-keeled. But with the exhausting weekend, the pressure of closing the San Francisco deal and now a senseless accident in his prized Ferrari, Ike was ready to explode.
Warren walked over and stood next to his brother. “I’m sorry, man. I know how long it took to get it in mint condition.”
“Interesting how you’re apologizing while all she talked about was a dog in the street.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Yeah, she could have been driving a tank. I just don’t—” Ike stopped short, his expression incredulous. “Did you hear that BS?” Instead of waiting for an answer, Ike walked over to where a police officer had joined the EMT team checking out Quinn’s injuries.
“...I think he was, but I’m not sure,” Quinn finished, her voice weak and body sagging as the medical personnel attended to her cuts and bruises. “I feel woozy. I can’t...”
One of the EMTs spoke up. “Officer, we need to get her to the hospital.”
“Not before I clear up her fuzzy uncertainty,” Ike butted in, bristling at an act he thought might win Quinn an Academy Award but no sympathy from him. “The accident was her fault, one hundred percent.”
Ike had addressed the officer, but his eyes stayed glued on Quinn. They’d wrapped bandages around her head and were treating the ugly gash near her temple. A medic shone a penlight into her eyes as they wheeled her away.
“What happened?”
“She said a dog jumped in front of her, but she was going too fast—slammed into me before I could react.”
The officer looked around. “Did you see it?”
“Nope.”
“All right, sir. Wait here so I can take your statement. I need to get her information before they take off.”
Warren came over. “Ike, I know you’re upset. But remember what Audrey said the other night about the judge being her father. I’m sure they’ve got the type of insurance to handle this, and if not, the judge has the cash.”
“It’s definitely going to get handled. She is going to pay for the restoration and any other charges that are incurred as a result of her recklessness.”
Warren looked over as the ambulance drove away. “Both of your cars are damaged. But it looks like the two of you are lucky to come out of this with only minor injuries.”
Even angry, Ike’s heart hitched at the sight of her being wheeled into the back of the van. “Yes, I’m grateful for that. And even though she’s a hellion, I hope Quinn is okay.”
Warren’s brow raised at the unexpected tenderness he heard in his brother’s voice. “What about you, man? How are you?”
It was the first time Ike had given any thought to his own body and possible injuries. He flexed his shoulders, raised and lowered his arms, and moved his head from side to side. “Other than being sore as all get-out tomorrow, I guess I’ll live.”
Just then, one of the medics who’d been working on Quinn walked over to where Warren and Ike stood. He looked at Ike. “Were you the one in the accident, sir?”
“Yes.”
“Mind if we check you out?”
“No need for that. I’m fine.”
“You may feel fine now, but later, after the adrenaline stops and the shock wears off, the pain might come.”
“If that happens, I’ll call my doctor.” The medic nodded and left. The police officer rejoined Ike, with Warren beside them. “Okay, sir. I need your driver’s license, registration and proof of insurance.”
Ike retrieved the items and handed them over.
The officer recorded the information and returned the papers. “Want to tell me your side of how this accident occurred?”
“I was driving down the street, no problems, no traffic. Reached the corner, stopped and began driving through the intersection. Next thing I know I’m swerving to avoid a speeding car suddenly in my lane. Barely had time to react before she’d crashed into me.”
“Did she acknowledge that she was speeding?”
“Are you kidding? She didn’t even acknowledge she ran into me and not vice versa. Blamed it on a dog that’s conveniently disappeared, and even if it had been present, it wouldn’t have posed the same kind of problem for someone driving the speed limit.”
Ike watched the officer jot down notes. “What did she say?”
The officer spoke without looking up. “She said speed had nothing to do with the accident. As you just stated, she mentioned the dog.”
“Doesn’t surprise me that she’d try and skirt responsibility for this. But you ticketed her, right?”
“Didn’t get the chance. The medics feared a concussion and wanted to get her to the hospital as soon as possible. That’s necessary so that a more serious injury can be ruled out.”
“But she is going to receive a citation, correct? I don’t want her getting away with this, and I definitely want her held accountable for all repair costs.”
The officer looked at the wrecked classic. “That’s got to hurt,” he acknowledged with a shake of his head. “What is that, a Chevy?”
Not a comment to normally make one want to punch a guy, but at the moment that’s how Ike felt. Warren’s chuckle compounded his anger. Thankfully it also diverted his mind from going fisticuffs, which Ike had never done in his life. The stress, no doubt, had allowed the uncharacteristic thought to surface, even momentarily. It wasn’t illegal not to be a car enthusiast. Of course, one couldn’t go to jail for not answering a stupid question, either.
“How is this going to be handled?” he asked instead.
“Well, I’m going to take a look around and investigate the scene, find out if there are any other witnesses and turn in a report based on those findings. If you ask me, though, worse things can happen than to get tangled up with a pretty little thing like the gal driving that Corvette. Who knows, she might be open to some kind of...negotiation. Know what I mean?”
“No,
