Nikkie Jean waited outside Radiology while they grabbed X-rays. They were certain one arm was broken—it was the other that was in question. She had a panicked look on her face. Allen didn’t stop to think. He wrapped her in his arms. She looked so afraid.
He was soaked. That didn’t sink in until she gasped.
Allen swore. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I have scrubs in my locker. I’ll change in a moment.”
“Me, too.” He was a mess. It was just now sinking in what had almost happened right in front of him. “I’ll run downstairs and grab them. You...stay with her. Don’t leave.”
They worked quickly. Rafe took charge, no surprise, and Nikkie Jean made phone calls once he told her that it looked like Izzie had only minor injuries, except for the concussion and a distal radius fracture. Displacement was minor.
Izzie had wakened while on the gurney up to radiology and had been cognizant enough for Rafe to explain how they were going to treat the break. To ask what medications Izzie was allergic to—she was allergic to quite a few—and what was safe for her to be given for the pain.
She was lucid. She knew what had happened, and was aware of where she was and who she was with.
Allen had reassured her that she was fine and that he would take care of things.
That seemed to help her settle down.
She’d be in a plaster cast and would require an air cast for a few days on the sprain. Rafe made it happen without more than a handful of people knowing what they were doing.
Allen didn’t question the other man. Not after Rafe had called his cousin, the TSP chief and explained what had happened.
Allen had heard him promise to keep what had happened quiet.
For Izzie’s sake.
No one was even speaking Izzie’s name aloud. They were going to keep this as quiet as they possibly could.
“I’m good.” Nikkie Jean threw herself against him for the briefest moment. Allen hugged her back gently, aware that physical touch still made her nervous. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You keep showing up right when Izzie needs you most.”
He hurried through changing clothes. Ten minutes later he was back up in Radiology, handing Nikkie Jean a pair of much smaller dry scrubs.
Rafe and Nikkie Jean were talking with two men he recognized.
Elliot Marshall held out a hand to him. “How are you? Injuries?”
“Minor. Bruised ribs, tissue damage to the knuckles. I’ll be ok.” He’d be sore for a day or two, but it was worth it. He’d held his own; the hours he’d spent at the dojang after his shifts had come in handy. He’d taken up the sport of tae kwon do after Logan’s death, to distract himself, mostly.
Now, he was damned glad he had. It had helped. He’d given better than he’d gotten. He hoped those sons of bitches were hurting now.
“What the hell happened out there, Jacobson?” Callum demanded.
“I pulled in across the street. I’d seen Izzie crossing at the light, so I watched to make certain I didn’t hit her. Visibility was low from the rain. I barely saw the truck pull in.” He went on to describe exactly what happened. “They went right for her. A coordinated attack. They didn’t even hesitate. I’m certain I heard them say her uncle should have kept his nose out of other people’s business. They practically yelled it, like they wanted whoever was around to know it.”
Elliot swore. “I was afraid of that. We’ve...had some people targeted because of Jake’s latest case.”
Nikkie Jean was still pacing. Rafe finally had enough and stood over her until she sat. Nikkie Jean turned toward Elliot. “Well, how are you going to keep her safe?”
“She needs to get out of town. This is bigger than an attack on Jake MacNamara,” Elliot said bluntly. “We’re not certain where exactly in the state this extends to. I can make some calls. Put her into some sort of safe house.”
“No offense, but how safe is the TSP right now? I mean, Gabby’s told me a few stories.” Nikkie Jean could be blunt when she wanted to be. “Can’t we call Ari and get help from Marc? Or Rafe’s sister or brother in St. Louis?”
He could see the panic still on her face.
Elliot shook his head. “I know you’re worried, but we can’t exactly call out the governor and the National Guard—or the St. Louis branch of the FBI.”
“She needs to get out of town tonight. Before someone sees her here,” Callum added. “Who knows she’s here?”
“Those of us in this room and the radiology tech and the orthopedic technician,” Allen said. Nikkie Jean was becoming more agitated.
Since what had happened with Wallace Henedy, Nikkie Jean had had a hard time letting her friends out of her sight. She’d told him herself she was working on that with her therapist.
This…this was a nightmare for her, too. He shared a look with Rafe, knowing the other man was seeing the same thing he was. Neither of them liked seeing her that upset. Rafe was just as protective of Nikkie Jean as Allen was—maybe more so. “We brought her in the back.”
“That could work in our favor. We need to find someone to drive her out of town tonight. To a safe house,” the chief said. “We’ll decide what to do in the morning. We may have to move her again.”
Nikkie Jean was about to volunteer. He and Rafe both knew that. Allen stood and crossed his arms over his chest. There was no way in hell he was going to let Nikkie Jean take Izzie and disappear into the night. It would be an absolute recipe for a disaster right now. Izzie wouldn’t be back to speed for a few days—and Nikkie Jean couldn’t go four hours without being ill.
That was if Caine would ever sign off on the idea.
Hell, there was no way that was going to happen. “I’ll take her someplace myself as soon as we get a cast on the left arm. The right will need a splint for at least a week. I’m the last person anyone would expect to drive off into the night with her.”
He had no idea what he was going to do next, but Allen knew one thing.
It had been clear from the moment his fist had first connected with those sons of bitches in the parking lot.
No one was going to hurt Izzie again. If her uncle wouldn’t step up and keep her safe from his work with the TSP, then Allen damned well would.