Delaney did as she was told, delivering the antibiotics with minimal burn. She disposed of the syringe and slapped on the cotton ball and Bandaid combo as if she’d been doing it for years.”
“Well done. You’ve got good, steady hands. I hardly felt a thing.”
“First timer’s luck, I guess.”
“That’s not usually a thing. You’ve got a knack. You ever think about going back to school for something in the medical field?”
Delaney shrugged. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought much about going back to school at all yet.”
“Something to keep in mind. Thanks. My glimmer of a possible love life thanks you.”
She laughed. “You know that means you have to share details of your date.”
Miranda narrowed her eyes but smiled. “We’ll see.”
Since he’d taken the job as Chief of Police back in November, Ethan had rarely had a night off. Their department was small, encompassing only himself, four officers, a day-time dispatcher, and a night-time dispatcher. There were a couple of reserve officers who were brought in from time to time, but, in general, small-town policing meant he was rarely truly off duty. That wasn’t all that different from his time with the Marshals. He’d lived his life prepared to be called out on a warrant at the drop of a hat.
But tonight he’d been looking forward to something else. A step in the direction of having that life Clay kept bugging him about. The fact that postponing dinner with Miranda until Saturday had made him twitchy and restless was a sign that he had a long damned way to go before he effectively transitioned.
Maybe he should call Clay, see if they could move up their rescheduled jam session. Or maybe he should just pick up his guitar and give his fingers a workout before Sunday to make sure he could still back up the claims he’d made.
Grabbing a beer and his beloved Taylor acoustic, he headed out to the glassed-in back porch. His rental house faced a scraggly patch of woods and was, in his opinion, way too close to neighbors. He didn’t actually want to be able to see anybody else’s house or for anybody to be able to look out and see his. But it would do until he decided where he wanted to live long-term. Part of that was deciding this job was for him long-term. He’d needed to get out of the Marshal Service—that hadn’t been up for debate—but the jury was still out whether this had been the right move. For all he’d gotten tired of the city, he wasn’t sure he was small town anymore either.
Ethan had barely set himself up on the old metal glider before his phone began to ring. Irritation prickled. Just because he hadn’t been able to spend tonight doing what he wanted didn’t mean he’d put out a call to the Universe to interrupt him. But irritation morphed quickly to pleasure when he saw Miranda’s name flash across the screen. He was smiling as he answered. “Hey there. I didn’t expect to hear from you tonight.”
“Hey, Ethan. I’m really sorry to bother you at home on your night off.”
The tension in her voice had him dropping his feet, sitting up straight. “That’s fine. What’s wrong?”
“Can you come down to the ED?”
Half a dozen forms of crisis scrolled through his mind. Violent patient. Hostage situation. Homicide. “Of course. Do I need backup?”
“No. Nothing like that. Just you, please. And maybe stick to plainclothes instead of your uniform.”
“What’s going on, Miranda?”
“Rene Forbes is here.”
Shit. “I’m on my way.”
Ethan’s tension cranked up a couple more notches as he stepped through the sliding glass doors into the Emergency Department of Wilton Memorial Hospital. He sure as shit hadn’t planned to be here again so soon. But at least he wasn’t the one bleeding this time. The shoulder holster carrying the Glock .40 he preferred was a comforting weight beneath his jacket. Overkill maybe, but he wasn’t about to be caught unawares.
The staff had evidently been told to watch out for him. A nurse, the same one who’d assisted Miranda last weekend, escorted him through the double doors back to the patient bays. Miranda was waiting toward the back in a little, tucked away corner, a surgical mask dangling around her neck.
Her grim expression lightened somewhat as she caught sight of him. “Thanks for coming.”
“How bad?” he asked softly.
In answer, she pulled up her surgical mask, opened the curtain, and nudged him inside.
Holy shit.
Rene Forbes lay on the gurney, her face so bruised and battered, he wouldn’t have immediately recognized her, if not for the bright pink cast still on her wrist. One eye was swollen shut and blood had dried in a black crust along her split lip. The arm with the broken wrist was currently bound up in a sling she hadn’t been wearing at the clinic. Dislocated shoulder, he guessed. There was no possible way she could blame this on falling or walking into a door.
Rage burst through Ethan. Harley had done this sometime after he’d left last night. Had he caught on to Ethan’s tail? Was this some kind of retaliation? A fuck you to the cops who could do nothing? Choking back his own reaction, Ethan kept his voice soft. “Rene, can you tell me what happened?”
Her one good eye slitted open, staring him down before rolling to fix on the ceiling.
From the corner, a gangly teenaged boy spoke up. “He just started whaling on her. No reason. He never has a reason.”
“He always has a reason,” Rene croaked.
“Bullshit,” the boy snarled, his long, narrow hands clenched.
“Johnny.” Despite her injuries, Rene’s tone still carried the rebuke only a mother could manage.
“Your father did this?” Ethan asked.
“That bastard is no father of mine.”
“He adopted you. Gave you his name.”
“I’d rather have stayed a bastard.”
Rene made a wounded sound at that.
“That’s enough.” Miranda’s voice brooked no argument and the boy subsided. “Rene, we already talked about this when you came in for your wrist. Harley’s escalating. You aren’t safe with him.”
“There’s nothing can be done.”
“I can get him away from you, get him off the streets.” Ethan would relish the chance to haul the asshole in. “You just have to file charges.”
Rene shook her head, biting back a moan at the movement. “I’m not filing charges. I brought this on myself. I married him and a woman’s place is with her husband.”
“That walking sack of shit is no husband,” Johnny growled. “And you’re stupid if you think he’s going to stop just because you stay.”
This time it was Miranda’s voice snapping like a whip. “Johnny, your mother is not stupid.”
Something tender there, Ethan noted. It was the second time he’d seen her go off against the idea of Rene being stupid.
“Then what do you call it?” the boy demanded.
“Scared. And rightly so. But you’re not wrong. He’s not going to stop. Rene, please let us help you.”
Rene swallowed, her throat working as she focused on Miranda. “How do you see this playing out?”
“Simple. You file charges, Chief Greer arrests him, and you move out to the women’s shelter.”