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My heart slammed into my throat. “Dean’s hurt? Is it bad?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” I shoved my fist in my mouth, to keep from interrupting again. I had to let her speak.
“There was an accident on the highway, and Dean’s watch was attending. And then someone else took the roundabout too fast and slammed into the car they were working on. They were cutting the driver out at the time.”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. I gripped the phone tight and tried to focus. “Where is he now? Dean?” It came out as a croak.
“I don’t know. I’m trying to find out for you. Leanne called me, because she knows we’re friends and Tim was notified as soon as it happened. I know two of the watch had to go to hospital, but I don’t know who.”
Memories of Saturday night assaulted me. I closed my eyes, but I still saw the images of the cars crashing into each other. Christ. Now every time I saw this in my head, I’d be superimposing Dean onto the image.
“How can we find out?” I asked. “Will Leanne update you?”
“Yes. Or Susannah will. As soon as I know anything, I’ll call you.”
All of a sudden, I didn’t want to be alone. “Are you at home?”
“Yes. Come over. And then, if you have to go to the hospital, I can drive you.”
I didn’t have the words to thank Lou. I’d do that later. I stuffed my feet into sandals, grabbed my bag, and I was ready. King would be fine for the evening. The only thing that mattered was finding out what happened to Dean. If he was hurt. He was a giant ass at times, but it didn’t stop me loving him.
Lou lived a fifteen-minute walk away, but it was quicker to drive my junker. Four minutes later—not that I was counting—I pulled up outside the house she shared with her father and two brothers. She stood at the door, waiting for me, and pulled me into her arms and out of the rain as soon as I crossed the threshold.
“I just heard from Leanne. Dean’s okay.”
I sagged against her. Thank all the gods. “Not hurt?”
“He wasn’t hurt badly. They were all injured, but Dean was lucky.”
A fresh chill ran through me at her words. What wasn’t she saying? “One of them was hurt badly?”
“Aaron and Cory are both in hospital. Dean and Paul were treated at the scene.”
“Shit. Do you know any details?”
“They’re both in surgery, according to Susannah. She’s there with Aaron, of course.”
Relief that it wasn’t Dean being operated on made me weak at the knees. I nodded. “Thank you for letting me know. Do you have any idea where Dean is now? I need to see him.”
“I imagine their watch was relieved. He’ll either be at the station or at home. Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. You stay here. I’ll be fine once I’ve seen him for myself.”
She gave me another squeeze. “Go kiss him better. They do an amazing job, Steph. We’re lucky there are guys like them.”
I didn’t need telling twice. I drove from there to the fire station, where I cruised slowly past the car park. I didn’t see Dean’s truck, so I headed to his new house and parked on the road.
There was his shiny SUV.
I let out a shaky breath. I’d no idea what to say to him. Maybe I’d just look at him, and he’d be able to understand my thoughts from the crazy look in my eyes?
He was treated at the scene. Lou’s words echoed in my head. What did that mean? There was only one way to find out. I locked my rusting heap of junk, walked up to Dean’s front door, and then rang the bell.
And waited.
I pressed the bell again and listened carefully. No sounds from inside the house. Perhaps he was in the shower? Or on the deck at the back? Or lying unconscious on the kitchen floor. I braced myself to find a way to break in, but then I heard footsteps approaching on the inside.
The door opened, and he was there. He looked as pissed off as I’d ever seen him, and his gaze was unfocused. Did he have a concussion?
“Sandy girl.” He drew out my nickname, and I smelled alcohol on his breath. “What’re you doing here?” He leaned against the doorframe and glared at me, his brows making a forbidding V.
Okay. So he wasn’t pleased to see me. I’d be sad about that later. “I heard about the accident today. I wanted to check you’re okay.”
He grimaced. “I’m in one piece. Does that count?” His knuckles showed white where he gripped the door. The scowl intensified.
“Can I come in?” I gestured at the sky. “I’m getting wet.”
“Sure.” He released his death-grip on the door and nudged it open wide. “Knock yourself out.” He shook his head. “Bad joke. Sorry.”
I followed him in and closed the door behind me. I didn’t pick up a jacket when I dashed out, and my blouse clung to the camisole I wore underneath. I was cold and damp, but overwhelmed with relief. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away.
He was fine. Cranky and maybe hurting, but okay.
I’d be calm and strong for now. The emotional rollercoaster would catch up with me later.
I went in search of him and found him in the lounge, a bottle of vodka on the coffee table and a half-filled tumbler in his hand.
“Lou told me you were hurt.”
He sank into the nearest armchair and took a slug of his drink. “As you can see, I’m fine.”
“I was worried about you. What happened?”
“Nope. Don’t wanna talk ’bout it.”
Was he drunk already? That was another worry to land on my shoulders. Why was he getting hammered?
Dean peeked at me over the top of his glass. “You can go now. Shoo.” He made a go-away motion with his free hand.
I ignored it. Some deeper drive made me determined to look after him for a change. Whether he wanted it or not. “You’re okay, and that’s good, but what happened to Aaron and Cory?”
“I fucking jinxed them. That’s what.” He drank deeply. “Happy now?”
“What? You’re not making any sense.”
He made a frustrated noise and dropped his head back against the chair. “Jus’ go, baby. The mood I’m in, I might end up hurting you.”
I gazed at him. Noted the hooded eyes and the scowl and the way he clutched his tumbler like a lifeline. He was right; he could hurt me. But not physically. I’d bet everything I owned on that.
It was time to step up or walk away.
I forced myself to walk forward and stand right in front of him, so close, my knees brushed against his. “I don’t believe that. You have to try harder, to scare me off.”
Our gazes locked, but I refused to look away. Even when Dean slammed his glass onto the coffee table, I stayed focused on him.
“What do I have to do, to make you go?” He spoke slowly, annoyance underlining the words.
“Tell me the truth.”
“’Bout what?”
“About what’s freaked you out so much today. We can start there.”
“Start there? I don’t think so.”
“Okay. Where are you hurt? Tell me that.” I moved closer and stood between his spread knees. Close enough to hear his breathing quicken and to smell the vodka. I longed to touch him, to drape my arms around his neck, but how would he react? He didn’t want me here.
“Jesus.” He sounded in pain. “You’re not gonna go?”
“Nope.”
My heart galloped along and I was close to hyper-ventilating when Dean placed his hands around my waist and lifted me to sit in his lap, my legs falling outside his. “I’ll give you one last chance to run, l’il sandy girl.”
“And if I say no?”