The level of stress in his voice surprised me and—I had to admit—sort of secretly pleased me. It was cool to know that anyone would worry about me like that—especially him, and especially after the other night.
I glanced back at him as I pulled the carafe out of the coffeemaker. “No, I wasn’t hurt, except for a lot of bruising and a cracked rib.” I dumped the remains of yesterday’s coffee into the sink and began to wash the carafe out. “I submitted to the ambulance only because I knew I’d be able to lie down—which I would not have been able to do in the back of a state police vehicle.” Since the accident had happened on a state highway, the state police had taken over the investigation. Unfortunately, that detail hadn’t kept everyone with the barest trace of authority in Beaulac PD from descending on the ER to question me ad nauseam about what had happened.
“So you’re all right?”
I gave him a nod, surprised at how tired he sounded. Maybe he’d been as upset about our fight as I had. Hearing that I’d almost died had to be pretty fucking awful, especially considering that our last words were less than pleasant. “Yeah. Car’s toast. Lost my gun. And my notebook. And my phone.” I gave a fatalistic shrug. “I’m still here, though.” I hesitated a breath. “I’m sorry. I should have let you know I was all right.”
He jerked his head in a nod of acceptance of my apology, then frowned, eyes on me as I shuffled around to make coffee. “What happened?”
“Still not really sure. I don’t know if it was an accident or an attack.” I got the coffee started and then leaned back against the counter, sighing. “I blew a tire and almost lost it. Then a big blue pickup rammed into me and I went over the side.”
He sat down at the kitchen table, expression dark and troubled. “I don’t like it.”
“Well, I wasn’t exactly liking it yesterday either. And I don’t really much like it now, to be honest, since I hurt like hell.”
Ryan glowered. “Let me guess: The doctors wanted to keep you overnight for observation, and you refused.”
I gave him my best smartass sweet smile. “Such a smart boy you are. You’re right. I couldn’t stand it for another minute, and I had Jill take me home. I have a cracked rib and bruised sternum, and I’m on prophylactic antibiotics since I aspirated some water as well. I came home, stayed conscious long enough to change clothes, and then fell into bed.” A shower was definitely high on my list of needs. I’d been too exhausted and depressed last night.
He slouched back in the chair. “Well, I’m glad you’re all right,” he said, tension beginning to clear from his face.
“Thanks,” I said quietly. He met my eyes and gave me a smile that was rife with a number of emotions, foremost among them apology. I returned the smile. We were cool again. Or as cool as we could be with so many uncertainties and questions hanging between us. A pang went through me at the thought that we might never get past all that. There was so much about him that felt so very right—like the fact that he clearly gave a huge fuck whether I lived or died.
“Anyway,” I continued, “I owe my life to a guy who was fishing on the river.”
“He helped get you out?”
I gave him a brief synopsis of what happened after the car went into the river, though I left out the bit about the guy hearing someone telling him to go to the bridge. I didn’t want to think about that too much, didn’t dare get my hopes up too high, only to have them shattered if Tessa’s body couldn’t survive long enough.
I swallowed back the black mood that threatened, then opened the fridge and peered in doubtfully. I didn’t have a whole lot to eat in the house. Grocery shopping hadn’t been a huge priority lately. I glanced back at Ryan. “Did you bring donuts?”
He snorted. “No, sorry. I was more concerned with making sure you were all right.”
I made a hmmfing sound. “I’ll be fine once I get coffee, a shower, and some food.”
He stood. “Go shower. I’ll make breakfast.”
“You cook?” I asked, brightening.
“No, but I’ll fake it,” he said with a grin. He pulled the carafe out of the coffeemaker and poured a mug full, added a ridiculous amount of cream and sugar, then handed it to me. “This is how you like it, right? Like drinking a candy bar?”
I laughed and took the mug. “You definitely hang out with me too much.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Go shower. You stink.”
I FELT BETTER after the hot shower, though a lovely pattern of bruising was beginning to show from where the seat belt had been. I dressed in jeans and a PD T-shirt and then came back out to the kitchen.
I laughed when I saw the white box on the kitchen table. “Did you drive code 3 to the donut shop?”
He glowered at me, but his eyes were dancing. “You don’t have shit to eat in this house.”