Vince heard a woman’s scream, and he reacted just like he had the last time. Only this time, he wasn’t alone. The new security guard he’d hired was right on his heels.
Vince saw cinnamon hair, and his pace increased. Until he met her right outside the ER entrance. His hands wrapped around her thin arms, and he turned her toward him. “Honey? What’s wrong?”
Not exactly the most professional of greetings, but it had just slipped out. She was panicked, shaking. Fear-filled brown eyes finally focused on him. It went straight through him. “Vince! I saw him. By my car, again!”
“You saw who?”
“The guy who attacked me!”
Vince turned. There was a figure a good two hundred feet from where they were.
It could have been the asswipe. The build and coloring were right. He wasn’t about to let the punk get away. But he wasn’t about to leave her looking so afraid. “Go inside with Mike.”
He knew it was a useless try, but he had to give it a shot. The punk was out of the parking lot before Vince got even halfway to him.
But he’d gotten close enough to confirm—it had been that little shit who’d attacked her.
Vince pulled his phone free and dialed the TSP quickly.
There was a reason that shit was hanging around his hospital.
Vince hurried back inside; he needed to talk to her. See her for himself. Make sure she was ok.