“In that?” Smith growled, pointing to the tail end of his truck, which had been too badly damaged to drive. He studied the crumpled back fender and axel and swore, glowering once more at the driver swearing on the phone. The older man in a decked-out Land Rover wore a suit and tie and talked on the phone as if he owned all of Seattle.
The cop turned to deal with the rich dick, and Smith fumed. He’d already been running behind to get to Tilly because of their job across the city. Traffic was always bad, but today it had been off-the-charts insane, and then he’d been hit.
“What the fuck happened here?”
Smith groaned. Not the voice he needed or expected to be hearing. He turned to see Cash walking toward him wearing a huge frown. “Shouldn’t you be at the job site?” He noticed Cash’s SUV parked behind the cop car.
“If you’d listened to anything I said, you’d have heard me tell you to wait while I finished talking to Hector. I was going to drive you.”
“Great. Then you would have been tail-ended by assface over there.”
Rich guy heard him and scowled. “I want to make a complaint.” He took a step towards Smith, who clenched his fists and grinned through his teeth.
The cop frowned. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to step over there. And Mr. Ramsey, please, don’t engage.”
“He won’t.” Cash waved at the cop. “I’m his brother. I’ll keep the hot head over here.”
“Thanks.”
Smith wanted to hit someone. He looked at Cash.
“Don’t even think about it,” Cash warned. “If you’d have waited, I would have been driving, and we could have avoided all this.”
“Huh? I didn’t do this! Fuckhead over there did!”
“Yeah, but we would have left a few minutes later, so his drunk ass would have hit someone else.”
The drunk ass in question said, loudly enough to be heard, “I am not drunk. And I want that man arrested for assault.”
“Sir, he hasn’t assaulted anyone.” The cop sighed.
“Not yet,” Smith muttered. “Yo, officer. Are we done here?”
“You can go. Contact your insurance company and let them know there’s a police report.” The cop turned back to the dickhead. “Mr. Murphy, can you please tell me the last time you had alcohol?”
“I haven’t been drinking.”
“What the fuck ever, pal,” Cash snarled. “You smell like a brewery.” He yanked Smith toward his SUV. “Come on. Your friend is waiting.”
Smith tugged his arm back but didn’t argue. Tilly and Erin needed him. He’d deal with Cash’s attitude later.
Chapter Sixteen
At the hospital, Smith found Erin slumped in a seat. He ignored Cash and rushed over to her. “Hey, you okay?”
She saw him, and her eyes filled. She reached for him, and he stood with her in his arms, just holding each other.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” She wiped her eyes. “Sorry for crying. Tilly’s going to be fine. It’s just been a heck of a day.”
Smith blew out a worried breath. “Thank God she’s okay. What the hell happened?”
Behind him, Cash cleared his throat.
Smith glared at him over his shoulder, but Cash raised a brow, looking from Erin to Smith. “Fuck. Fine. Erin, this is Cash. Cash, Erin. He’s Reid’s brother.”
“Oh, hi. Nice to meet you.” Erin sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Smith, put me down.” He did, and she held out a hand to Cash.
Cash shook it and smiled, the soft expression odd on his normally frowning face. “Hi. It’s nice to meet you too. I heard about you from Reid, but myother brotherhere hasn’t said much.” Cash smirked. “Tough to deny how much you look like me, little man.”
