Nicole, who’d been watching Sasha this entire time, seemed to read Sasha’s mind. “But he’s going to be okay?”
“Yeah. I just finished booking Riggs into the county lockup. Some buddies of Silva’s are picking him up at the ER and driving him back to Scarlet.”
“Areyouokay?” Nicole asked Julia.
“I think this took a good five years off my life and gave me a few more gray hairs, but, yeah, I’m okay. I’m looking forward to a hot bath and a glass of wine.”
“Thanks, Julia. Sasha was kind of freaking out when she heard the news.”
“Tell her not to worry. Her hot detective is safe—and so am I.”
“We’re glad to know you’re okay, too.” Nicole ended the call. “So, he’s okay, and he’ll be back soon.”
Sasha sank into a chair, shaky with relief. “Thank God.”
Ice pack heldagainst his chest by bandages, Darius sat on the gurney in the ER, growing more impatient by the minute. How long did it take to discharge someone? He didn’t have time for this. Riggs was sitting in the Forest County jail, and Darius had questions that needed answers.
What a fucking mess today had become. One minute, they’d been wrapping up, and the next…
Darius hadn’t anticipated that Watts would try to rescue Riggs, especially not with an overwhelming police presence at the scene. He’d imagined the bastard would run as far and fast as he could. But Watts had tried to kill Sasha out of a misguided sense of loyalty to Riggs. It made a kind of twisted sense that he would throw his life away trying to free his friend. But now he was dead.
What a waste.
Darius glanced at his watch. What was taking so long? He’d been waiting to leave for more than an hour. The X-rays had shown no broken ribs, and there’d been no internal injuries. Then again, he couldn’t go anywhere without transportation.
He heard familiar voices, exhaled in relief. At least his ride was finally here.
“We’re with DPD. Is Detective Silva here?”
“Yes. He’s in the last room on the left. I’ve got his discharge paperwork. He should be ready to go in a few minutes.”
The curtain moved aside to reveal Darcangelo and Hunter.
“Hey, guys. It’s about time.”
Darcangelo’s gaze dropped to the bandages that held the ice pack in place. “How do you feel, man?”
“Like someone took a baseball bat to my chest.” He unwrapped the bandages to reveal two dark, overlapping bruises, each with an angry, red bullseye. “X-rays showed no cracked ribs or fractured sternum, so I guess I’m good to go.”
“Damn.” Hunter frowned. “Thank God the plates held.”
“Just barely.” Darcangelo picked up the two ballistic plates that had stopped the bullets, both pitted where the rounds had struck, one cracked. “Either one of these shots would have been fatal.”
That thought had occurred to Darius, too. “I guess it wasn’t my time.”
Hunter took the cracked plate, turned it over in his hands. “You are one lucky son of a bitch. What the fuck happened?”
Darius shared the highlights, giving Marcs props for getting him out of the path of the truck. “If she hadn’t dragged me out of the street, I’d be roadkill.”
“Sounds like you owe her a beer.”
Darius couldn’t disagree with this. “At least one.”
“The son of a bitch who did this is dead, right?” Hunter set the damaged plates back on the overbed table.
“Very.”
“What about that piece of shit you arrested?”
