Page 85 of Daybreak

“Jesus wept, Gunner Kingston. How are you still walking?”

“I swear it looks worse than it is. I have a cut on my arm, and I lost a lot of skin there when I took him down on the pavement. His damn helmet whacked my jaw. I probably have bruises, but it’s all superficial. I’d hug you but…”

“Did you go to the ER?” she asked.

“No, but I—”

She glared. “Well, you’re going, and don’t argue with me. You look like the last rooster standing in a cockfight. Get a clean shirt and pants. They’re going to cut all of this off of you when we get there, so you’ll need something to wear home.”

He was hurting like hell, but she’d just made him smile.

“Holly.”

“What?”

“I sure do love you,” Gunner said.

“I know. Inside now, please.”

It hurt to laugh, but he did it anyway. He’d just gotten his first dose of how Holly dealt with crises. She was definitely a keeper.

As soon as they got the change of clothes, they left the house. She scooted the passenger seat back as far as it would go, buckled him in, and drove him to the ER in her SUV, then walked him straight in and up to the front desk.

The receptionist looked up, then shock followed as recognition dawned. “Detective Kingston! What happened?”

“Just Gunner Kingston now,” he said. “I had a run-in with a perp. EMTs on scene patched me up to stop the bleeding, but it hasn’t stopped, and they recommended I see a doctor.”

A woman in the waiting room glanced up, then did a double take. “It’s him! The man that caught that killer on the loose!”

Gunner gave the receptionist a pleading look. “This is only going to get worse.”

The receptionist nodded. “Follow me,” he said and led them through the double doors and up to the ER nurse’s desk. “Is there a doctor who wouldn’t mind taking Mr. Kingston now? It seems he’s become something of a hero, and it’s going to cause a stir in the waiting room. I’ve got to get back to the front desk, but they’ll get you fixed up in no time, Mr. Kingston.”

The nurse glanced at the schedule to see where the ER doctors were at the moment. “What kind of a hero are we talking about here?” she said, half joking.

Holly didn’t like the way those words came out of the nurse’s mouth and answered for him.

“He got hurt taking down the killer the FBI was looking for. He was a bloody mess when he got home, and he’s hurting. A lot. But he’s not going to say it, so I’m saying it for him.”

The nurse gave Holly a look. “And you are?”

“She’s mine,” Gunner said.

Holly burst into tears.

He reached out with his good arm and pulled her close. “It’s been a hard day. Is there somewhere we could sit until a room is available?”

The nurse’s whole demeanor just changed, as she waved at one of the aides. “Shelly, take him to Room 8. If the linens haven’t been changed yet, do it before you leave.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Shelly said. “This way, please.”

A few minutes later Gunner was stretched out on the bed, and Holly was sitting in a chair beside him.

“This sure puts a kink in our pajama party,” Gunner said.

Holly rolled her eyes, then managed a wry smile. “Yes, it does, but I do take rain checks. And don’t fuss at me. When you hurt, I cry. That’s how it’s always going to be.”

The words were stuck in the back of his throat. He held out his good hand, and she took it, holding on as if she was never going to let him go.