Great. A quick-witted smart-ass. Just her luck.
“I’m okay,” he said, his expression suddenly serious. “Bruises and contusions, but nothing seems to be broken.” He gave a brief nod toward Jase. “Thanks, man, I owe you.”
Jase shrugged. “I’ll let you know when the wife’s laptop goes on the blink.” He nodded to the other men and they all headed back into the bar.
“He seems an odd friend for you,” Ginny said.
Anson managed a lopsided grin. “I’m an odd-friend connoisseur. Kind of a hobby.”
“Thank you for tonight. I don’t know who those guys were or what they were up to, but it clearly wasn’t anything good.”
He glanced toward her car. “Did you ask your brother if he knew them?”
She didn’t miss the implication. “He barely recognizes me when—”
“When he’s indisposed,” he supplied.
She nodded. “I need to call for a tow. They seem to have slashed my tires as they left.”
“Strange.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should call—”
“I’m fine.” He offered another pained smile.
“You should at least stop by the after-hours clinic in town. Let them look you over, make sure you don’t have any internal injuries.”
He nodded but didn’t speak. She could tell he had no intention of taking her advice. She was used to that, as well.
“Really lucky for me you were here,” she added.
Something shifted in his expression. She couldn’t quite read the quicksilver emotion, but it piqued her curiosity. She immediately shoved aside the momentary flicker of interest—she might work at a private investigation and security agency, but the last thing she needed in her life was more intrigue.
Besides, Anson Daughtry was in some sort of trouble at The Gates, wasn’t he? He’d been put on administrative leave for some reason.
“Consider the clinic,” she added as a parting shot, then headed back to the car to check on Danny and call for a tow truck.
Danny’s head rolled toward her as she slid behind the steering wheel and gripped it with her suddenly shaking hands. She’d been as solid as steel through most of the past few minutes, but apparently her adrenaline spike had passed, leaving her feeling shivery and enervated.
“Gigi,” he murmured, sounding distressed.
As she turned to look at him, the dome light that had come on when she opened the driver’s door turned off, and she got only a quick glimpse of something dark staining the front of his shirt. For a moment, she felt an old, familiar hardness stiffen her spine. He’d thrown up his night’s liquid intake all over himself and her car.
Except she wasn’t smelling vomit and liquor.
The odor was sharper. More metallic.
She opened the door, engaging the dome light and, for a long moment, simply stared without comprehension at the wet red stain spreading across the front of Danny’s shirt. It had been hidden under his folded arms before, she realized.
Danny gazed at her, his expression twisted with fear and pain. “Gigi?”
She dug for her phone and dialed 9-1-1.
Anson entered the emergency room waiting area and acquired his target in seconds, despite the crowd of people filling the chairs and sofas scattered around the room. She sat in the corner, an island of stillness in a kinetic sea of anxiety, her blond hair now finger-combed into some sort of order and her hands folded serenely in her lap.
But as her soft blue eyes flicked up to meet his, he saw the terror her placid facade was hiding.
“Did you get checked out?” Her voice was low and tight.
“Yeah. Nothing broken. Didn’t even need stitches in my cheek.” The cut under his black eye was hurting like hell, but he refrained from whining about it, under the circumstances. “Any word on your brother?”
She shook her head. “I’m hoping no news is good news.”
“It might be.” He waved at the seat beside her. “Okay if I sit?”
“Of course.” She edged over as if to give him extra room. He sat beside her, taking care not to touch her. He had the strangest feeling that if he touched her, she would shatter.
“Thank you for the ride,” she added. “I really didn’t want to catch a ride with the cops.”
He touched his swollen nose with his fingertips, wincing at the inevitable pain. “You got warrants out on you or something?”
“No.” She answered as if it were a serious question.
Her response intrigued him, but he tabled his curiosity for later. “They’ll probably have more questions. They’re lurking near the exam rooms right now, I guess waiting for a chance to interview your brother.”
“It won’t do them much good. He’s not sober enough to make any sense anyway.” A touch of bitterness darkened her voice. She seemed to hear it herself, her expression icing over and her posture stiffening. “You probably want to get home. I can call a cab or something.”
“I’m in no hurry to get home.” He started to settle his long limbs more comfortably in the chair beside her, then stopped short. “Unless you want me to leave?”
She gave him a long, considering look that made him feel as if he were undergoing some sort of silent assessment. Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t mind the company.”
Ringing endorsement, that. He stretched his legs out and attempted to get a little more comfortable.
After a few minutes she broke the silence. “Did the police talk to you about those men?”
“They did.”
“Do you think you could identify them from a lineup?”
She sounded so hopeful, he hated to answer truthfully. “I didn’t get a very good look at any of them. I was focused on getting you clear of them, and after that, I was pretty much on the ground with my arms around my head having the hell kicked out of me.”
She winced. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“Not your fault.”
“I can’t get over how lucky I was that you were there. It was really brave of you to come to my rescue that way.”
The tentative smile she flashed at him felt like sunshine and rainbows and fireworks exploding, and
