“Of course I do.” She bent and kissed Maggie on the forehead.
“Take one of the guys if you need someone with you,” Ethan said softly. “Deputies might still be there.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be okay.”
“Polly—”
“I’ll be okay,” she pushed, cutting Maggie off.
Maggie sighed, and when her friend left, she and Ethan were alone. And the expression on his face—God, it was intense. Like there was a mountain between them and he was ready to climb it to get to her.
Neither of them had time to say anything before a knock sounded at the door. It opened to a man in a white lab coat. He looked to be in his mid-forties and there was no smile on his face. He closed the door behind him.
“Miss Sinclair, it’s good to see you awake. I’m Dr. Martin. You took quite a knock tonight.”
“But I’m okay?”
“You’ve been unconscious for about two hours. Fortunately, there’s no internal bleeding or skull fracture.”
She nodded, not sure if she was supposed to feel grateful for that. Probably. But the dread in her belly from everything that had happened was overpowering.
“We’d like to keep you overnight for monitoring,” the doctor continued. “After that, if you have someone at home, we’d be happy to discharge you tomorrow.”
“Polly can?—”
“I’ll be with her.” Ethan cut her off, his fingers tightening around her hand.
The doctor dipped his head. Once he was gone, she looked back to Ethan. “You don’t?—”
“You’re staying with me, Maggie. That’s non-negotiable. Someone attacked you. I need eyes on you.”
She swallowed, and even though so much had happened tonight, she wanted to be with him too. She opened her mouth to tell him that, when the door opened without even a knock and Ward and a deputy stepped into the room.
“Goddammit.” Ethan rose. “I told you?—”
“That she wasn’t awake,” Ward finished. “Now she is.”
“She has a concussion. Give her a damn minute.”
Maggie touched Ethan’s arm. “It’s okay. The quicker I talk to them the faster it will be done.”
Ward nodded. “Smart girl.”
Maggie’s nose wrinkled at the condescending tone, but she didn’t respond. There was no good that would come from it. She pushed a button to adjust the bed to a sitting position.
Ward stood at the end of the bed. “You were found unconscious in the living room of Polly Mack’s home. Can you tell me what you remember?”
“I left the bar. I was upset?—”
“Why were you upset?”
Ethan tensed.
She touched his arm, speaking before he could. “With all due respect, that’s my business and not related to what happened in Polly’s living room. I ran inside the house and closed the door.” She frowned. “I can’t remember if I locked it.”
“There were no signs of forced entry,” the deputy said, not looking up from his notepad.
Great. She may as well have left the door wide open and told them to come right in. “I went to my bedroom but heard a noise in the living room. I thought it was Polly, but when I went out there, a framed photo was sitting face down. I lifted it, and the photo of me and her was out of the frame and torn in half. The half with me was gone.”
