“Come on. Let’s go get the docs to take a look at you.”
She shook her head, blotted the blood on her arm with his handkerchief. “It’s not that bad. I’ll be okay. Besides, I want to wait for Beau.”
Jase’s piercing blue eyes sharpened. “You’re cut and bruised and you might have a concussion. Reese can pick you up at the hospital.”
“Beau’s coming from his office. It’s only ten minutes away. Less, the way he drives.”
Jase swore softly. A police car rolled up just then and Jase walked over to talk to them, but the beat-up brown sedan had long since disappeared and catching the driver wouldn’t be easy. Still, she wanted to make a report. They needed to stop this maniac before he seriously hurt someone.
She heard the squeal of tires and her head jerked up. The Ferrari slid to a halt in the middle of the street, the door flew open, and a tall, black-haired man ran toward her. A car horn honked, but Beau didn’t stop.
“Cassidy!” He pulled her up from the sidewalk into his arms and hung on tight, buried his face in her hair. “You scared me. Jesus, you scared me.”
She wasn’t the crying type, but for once she wished she could just let go. She clung to him, only for a moment, then forced herself under control. A shudder ran through Beau’s hard body as he eased away.
He looked down at the bloody handkerchief, her torn leggings and skinned knees. “Christ, I’m calling an ambulance.”
“Wait! It isn’t as bad as it looks. I’ll be okay.”
He tipped her chin up, saw a smudge of blood on the side of her head. “You might have a concussion. I’m taking you to the emergency room.”
Jase walked up just then. He was nearly as tall as Beau. “I told the cops you’d give them a statement at the hospital.” He turned a hard look on Beau. “’Bout time you got here. I tried to take her to emergency but she wanted to wait for you.”
“I’m here now. Who are you?”
“Jason Maddox.” Neither man moved or looked away.
“He’s the guy who helped us find Dooley. Now do you two think you could postpone your pissing contest until later?”
Beau just turned, swept her up in his arms, and started striding toward the Ferrari. Jase brought her laptop and purse, settled them in the low-slung sports car.
“Thanks.”
Jase just nodded.
Once Beau had her belted into the seat, he roared offtoward Baylor Medical, which wasn’t all that far. Along the way, Cassidy filled him in on what had happened.
“I swear, that car came out of nowhere—I only had a split second to react. The way it weaved toward me, I could tell the driver was drunk.”
“The bastard could have killed you. I’d like to get my hands around his neck.”
Cassidy made no reply. Wasn’t much she could say to top that.
A few minutes later, she was sitting on a table behind a curtain in the emergency room while an older doctor with thick gray hair looked her over. Aside from a slight headache, she didn’t have any sign of a concussion, no confusion, no memory loss, no dizziness, nausea, or vomiting.
“Will you have someone with you tonight?” the doctor asked.
“I’ll be with her,” Beau said, leaving no room for doubt. The doctor seemed satisfied. A nurse finished up, putting ointment on her scrapes and scratches, bandaging the cut on her arm.
The police arrived just as the woman finished. “She’s all yours,” the nurse said to them as she left.
“Your friend Maddox told us what he saw. But he didn’t actually see the collision. Can you tell us what happened?”
Cassidy took her time, trying to remember those few moments before she had hit the ground, but she hadn’t gotten a license plate number. An old, battered, brown sedan wasn’t much of a description.
“It might have been a Ford,” she added, which didn’t seem to impress them.
“We’ll do our best, Ms. Jones,” said an officer who had red hair and a crooked nose that looked like it might have been broken. “But Dallas is a big city.”
