Elle gave her a sardonic look. “Et tu, Charlotte?”
Charlotte laughed and gave her niece a gentle squeeze around the shoulders. “I seem to remember you didn’t always find Gabe Dawson so repugnant. In fact, as I recall, a certain freckle-faced teenager had a mighty big crush on him back in the day.”
Elle sniffed dismissively. “Well, that teenager grew up,” she mumbled. “Unfortunately, the object of her affection did not.”
“Anything you want to tell me, honey?” Charlotte asked.
Elle glanced at her aunt but quickly averted her gaze, not liking how perceptive the woman sometimes was. “No. Why?”
Charlotte gave Elle’s shoulders a squeeze. “You just seem to be pretty concerned for the well-being of a man you insist you despise.”
Elle shrugged, trying to appear indifferent to Charlotte’s words. “I’d be just as concerned about anyone else I work with.”
But even as she spoke the words, Elle studied her reflection in the mirror, grateful that she’d only have a small scar at her hairline to show for what had happened that day. Thanks to Gabe.
And a small—very small—part of her began to wonder if maybe she’d misjudged him all these years. If maybe there was something more to Gabe Dawson than she’d been willing to see…
Chapter 4
The first face Gabe saw when he awoke was his brother Tom’s, his brows drawn together in an uncharacteristically dark frown. “Hey, man, how ya doin’?”
“Livin’ the dream,” Gabe mumbled, his mouth feeling like it was full of cotton. “You alright? How’s Elle? She was bleeding. Is she okay?”
“I’m fine,” Tom assured him. “And Elle will be okay. She needed some stitches but was otherwise unharmed. She came by asking about you before Charlotte took her home. She looked pretty worried.”
Gabe blinked a little through the lingering fog of anesthesia. “She did? I’ll be damned.”
“You saved her life, Son. I’m sure she’s grateful.”
Gabe’s gaze swung toward the sound of his father’s voice to see him wearing the same expression as Tom. Shit. Seeing those two visibly worried about him rattled him down to his bones.
“It was Mark Monroe,” Gabe rasped. “That son of a bitch—”
“Is dead,” Tom finished, his gaze dropping. That look told Gabe everything he needed to know. Tom had taken the bastard down and had no doubt saved numerous lives, including Gabe’s. But that didn’t make it any easier on Tom. In all the years Tom had been a deputy, he’d never even had to draw his weapon. Until today. “You don’t have to worry about him.”
“Yeah,” Gabe murmured, the spike of fear he’d experienced in that moment on the steps rushing back on him and making his heart race. The tempo of the beeping monitors near his head gave him away, bringing in a fierce-looking nurse with numerous loops of crimson braids.
“Alright, now,” she said, shooing Tom out of her way. “I told you all that you needed to let him rest.” She patted Gabe on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take good care of you. You go on and get some sleep now.”
“Where’re Joe and Kyle?” Gabe asked, the room beginning to spin a little from whatever it was they were giving him for pain.
“Nurse Ratched here wouldn’t let us all come in,” Tom told him, sending the nurse an irritated glance. “They’re out in the hallway with Sadie and Abby.”
Gabe wasn’t too out of it to notice the tightness in his brother’s tone when he mentioned the women. Probably because his own wife’s name was noticeably absent. It’d been three years since Tom’s wife, Carly, had been killed in the line of duty as a DEA agent. And the murderer—a drug lord from Chicago—was serving a life sentence thanks to Tom’s tireless efforts to put the bastard away. But Gabe knew Carly’s loss still weighed heavily on his brother. Tom’s already solemn and intense personality had become doubly so since losing the woman he loved.
“Oh my goodness!”
Everyone’s attention darted to the door, where a woman with unruly, dark, bobbed hair and polka dot scrubs was standing.
“Isn’t this a busy place!” she said with a little giggle. “How’s the patient? Oh, hey, hi!”
Gabe forced himself to focus on the pixie-like face of the doctor who’d come in and was now maneuvering around to the side of the bed where Tom stood.
“Uh, hi,” Tom muttered, looking a little embarrassed by her sudden appearance.
The doctor grabbed Tom’s hand and pumped it vigorously. “It’s so good to see you again! I didn’t realize—oh, Dawson! You two are related, right?”
“Gabe’s my brother,” Tom said, looking like he wanted to sink into the floor. “Nice to see you again, Isabel.”
Was Tom actually blushing? The fuck?
Gabe was way too out of it to try to puzzle through how Tom was acquainted with his doctor—whoever the hell she was—and why her presence was enough to fluster him. But it was definitely something he planned to ask about when the fog cleared.