“The bad guy is over there,” Maizy declared, pointing her finger toward the right. “Denny, I’m cold.”
Wheeler spun halfway around and I glanced at the side of the building and saw a man lying unconscious on his stomach. By his bruised face and the bloodstains on his shirt, Denver had taken care of that problem. I couldn’t have imagined what that scene must have been like—Denver coming out to find Maizy in the clutches of a dangerous man.
“Is everyone okay?” Denver said in a quiet voice.
Wheeler set me down, and while they talked, I went to Lynn. “Do you need to go to the hospital? Lynn, let me see your head.”
She was holding a wad of paper towels from the bathroom over her head to stanch the bleeding. “I’m not sure I need to go to the emergency room, but I may need stitches.”
“Well, we can’t wait until the morning. Let me see.”
Her fingers and arm were covered in dried blood. Lynn had always maintained her appearance—perfect makeup and her clothes modest and ironed. It was hard to see her pasty complexion smeared with blood that was matted in her blond hair. She was a good woman and didn’t deserve something like this happening to her.
“Wheeler, she needs to go to the hospital right now. Can you take her? This shouldn’t wait until the morning. She was unconscious when I found her and might have a concussion.”
Wheeler cursed under his breath and looked at Denver. “I’ll use the truck. Tell Austin where I am… and where the fuck is Ben?”
“Where do you think?” Denver said. “Five minutes into the game, he slipped out the door. I saw him in the back room playing cards when I was looking for Maizy.”
“You have got to be shitting me,” Wheeler said in a flat voice. He bent over and helped Lynn to her feet. She wobbled a little and I gave Wheeler her purse.
Maizy looked up and her lashes were wet. “Mommy, can I come?”
“No, Peanut,” Denver said. “Your mama needs to get fixed up, so you’re coming home with Denny.” He spoke in an easy and relaxed voice, keeping her calm as worry filled her eyes. “I think we should put on your favorite movie tonight. Let me see, what was that movie called? Oh yeah, King Kong.”
She smiled a little. “That’s not it, silly.”
Wheeler helped Lynn to the truck and Denver lingered.
“Go on and take her home,” I said. “Everything’s under control. I think.”
“What’s that mean?”
My lip quivered and I sat on the curb, still shaking. “Trevor.” I hugged my knees and dropped my forehead on them, tears spilling.
The door behind me clicked and heavy footsteps approached. Reno came into view only briefly before he scooped me into his arms and carried me toward his motorcycle.
“Where’s Trevor?” I whispered against his neck, trembling with fear.
“Austin had us clear out. He wouldn’t shift with us in the room. He’s in the fucking closet, and he needs to come out.”
I laughed against his shoulder.
“Is that funny?”
“Kind of, yeah.”
Reno didn’t kiss or coddle me one bit. He put me in his leather jacket and fired up the engine of his Triumph, waiting for me to hold on tight so we could ride off on his badass bike.
“Your leg is bleeding,” I said. I didn’t have a helmet, so Reno could hear me fine.
“Don’t worry about me, April. It’s not the first time I’ve been shot.”
Heads turned as they always do whenever a motorcycle drives by, and I placed my right cheek on his back and nestled into him. He didn’t voice any complaints.
I realized that when romance novels happened in real life, it didn’t feel as thrilling. Bad guys sometimes won, people you loved got hurt, and maybe stuff like that would ruin that fragile piece of strength left in you.
By the time we got to the house, I was shaking from the cool air. When Reno didn’t see Denver’s yellow truck in the driveway, he sent him a text message. Denver replied and said he’d taken Maizy to the movies so she’d fall asleep and stop worrying about her mom. I can only imagine what a frightening experience that was for her and how she was probably crying on the way home. I admired the way Denver looked after her, and not because he had to, but because he loved her.
The wood floor creaked as Reno carried me inside the house and set me on my feet. He flipped a switch and a small lamp lit up the corner of the living room to our right. I sat down to remove my sneaker and walking boot, adding them to the pile of shoes they kept in the corner. They didn’t always adhere to the rules, but they made an effort since the outdoor mud created a mess. Reno helped me up and unzipped the oversized leather jacket he’d made me put on, tossing it on a chair to the right.
“Maybe you should leave that on,” he said absently, staring at the boot.
“It’s fine. My foot needs to breathe before it swells up. Should we call Austin?” I asked, anxious to get a status on Trevor.