by Bru Baker
Drew had given him everything he had on Maura Chandler, though he hadn’t had access to digital scans of her previous X-rays. The hospital had sent over her latest one, though, confirming the break in her collarbone. Drew had felt sick when he’d seen it, wishing he hadn’t been right.
“I’m looking at hiring a data management company to do it, but they all cost an arm and a leg. Jefferson offered to help, but the last thing I need is a HIPAA violation. He worked on some basic filing while he was here, which was nice.”
“I used a local company in Denver. It was expensive but worth it. I don’t know how many records the clinic has, but it can be all-consuming.”
Drew turned on the lights, grimacing in sympathy when Nick blinked rapidly because of the fluorescents. Switching them out to something that mimicked natural light better and was easier on werewolf eyes was on his list, but pretty far down it.
“The appointment book is on the desk. I’ll boot up the computer for you. Leslie should have verified everyone’s insurance information when she booked the appointment, so you shouldn’t need to do anything other than sign them in and give me the chart so I know they’re here. Leslie usually stacks them all up in the inbox so they’re ready for me to handle alone.”
Nick nodded and slipped into the desk chair, eyes already on the computer screen as it flicked to life. He seemed at ease with his tasks, so Drew left him to it and set about getting the exam rooms ready for patients.
By the time his second appointment arrived, they’d established a seamless flow. Nick was even better at anticipating his needs than Leslie, and Drew ran through his clinic hours with fewer snags and problems than he’d ever experienced before. He had a full appointment load, but as the night went on and Maura Chandler still didn’t show, he got discouraged. He’d hoped they could help her, but she had to take that first step.
“I’m sorry I wasted your night,” he said after he’d walked his last patient of the night out. She waved and hustled out the door, casting a curious glance at the two of them. Drew was sure tongues would be wagging all over town that Leslie had been replaced.
Nick shrugged. “It wasn’t a waste. I got to see you in action, which, I have to admit, really did it for me. Maybe it’s the white coat.”
“I’m not going to play doctor with you.” Drew leaned against the desk and swatted at him with the chart before leaning over Nick to put it in the box of files to be processed.
The grin Nick gave him could only be described as predatory.
“You sure?” Nick said, batting his eyelashes. “I’ve been experiencing a terrible ache in my groin for the last few weeks, doctor. I need someone experienced to take a look.”
Drew laughed but the clinic door opened before he could reply, and Maura Chandler walked in, arm in a sling and fresh bruises on her face.
“Ms. Chandler,” he said, straightening. “I’m so glad you made it.”
She looked even more timid than she’d been when he’d seen her last week, her gaze darting from him to Nick, nervous.
“I’m sorry I’m so late. Jimmy skipped bowling tonight, so I had to wait till he was busy before I could leave.”
Drew’s jaw clenched at the way she seemed to curl into herself, like she was trying to make herself smaller. He’d bet anything “busy” meant on the tail end of a six-pack. He took a breath and forced himself to smile. She’d come in, and that was all that mattered.
“This is Dr. Perry. He’s a psychologist, Ms. Chandler, and I was hoping you’d feel comfortable talking with him about how things are going for you.”
She licked her lips, and he’d swear her pale skin blanched even more. “I thought you wanted to look at my collarbone.”
“I do. The hospital sent over your scans, and it looked like a clean break, but I’d like to examine you to make sure the swelling is going down as it should and the tissue looks healthy. But I’d like you to take some time and talk to Nick—I mean Dr. Perry.”
“About what?” she asked hesitantly.
Drew didn’t have to be able to hear her heartbeat to know it was probably through the roof, but the way Nick’s hands clenched under the desk confirmed it. She was terrified. He just wished he knew if she was afraid of them or afraid of what Jimmy would do to her if he knew she was talking to them.
“Anything,” Nick said, his voice gentle. “I’d really like to talk to you about how you hurt yourself, because injuries can be traumatic. But we can talk about whatever you’d like. I’m new to the area, and I don’t know much about the town, so even if you just want to share some gossip or give me restaurant recommendations, that’s fine.”
She cracked a smile. “Ain’t no restaurants to recommend around here, Dr. Perry.”
“Ah,” Nick said, standing. He telegraphed his movements, probably so he didn’t startle her, and a wave of relief washed through Drew when she moved to follow him. “Well, gossip it is, then.”
She actually laughed at that, and Drew was blown away with how quickly Nick had been able to put her at ease. Drew had spent twenty minutes with her last week, and she hadn’t progressed past flinching every time he spoke and keeping as much distance between them as she could. Yet here she was, trailing after Nick down the hallway to the small office Drew had in the back, without any hesitation.
Drew settled in the desk chair and started in on the pile of charts. He usually left them for Leslie to do, but he might as well keep busy while he waited. It was nice, repetitive work that kept his mind off what Nick and Maura might be talking about back in the office.
Nick had warned him the goal of their first session was to establish a relationship and get her comfortable with talking to him. As much as Drew wished they could get her out of the abusive situation she was in, it wasn’t going to be a quick fix.
He didn’t realize he’d left the door unlocked until it was flung open with enough force to dent the wall behind it. Drew pushed to his feet on high alert as a disheveled man stumbled in.
“Sir? Do you need some help?”
The man was unsteady on his feet. Drew ran through possibilities—heart attack, stroke, concussion—as he hurried around the desk, but as soon as he got within five feet of the man he could smell the alcohol on him.
“You,” the man snarled, lumbering toward him. “You got that bitch here? She tellin’ you lies about me? Or maybe you’re fuckin’ her. S’all she’s good for anyway.”
Oh shit.
There wasn’t a doubt in Drew’s mind as to who was in front of him. This was Maura’s boyfriend, Jimmy. And it looked like Drew’s six-pack guess hadn’t been too far off, though from the state of him it had probably been more like twelve.
“There isn’t anyone here but me,” he said, taking a careful step back when Jimmy lunged forward again. Luckily he was too uncoordinated to make contact. Drew needed to get him out of here before Maura heard him.
Jimmy snorted. “S’at right? I followed her here, dumb fuck.”
He tried to weave around Drew, but Drew scrambled to the side, blocking his way. “We’re closed. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“You ain’t gonna ask me shit, boy,” Jimmy sneered. He peered around Drew and started to yell down the hallway. “Maura? Maura! Get your ass out here.”
Jimmy probably had fifty pounds on him, but he definitely didn’t have Drew’s agility. He rushed at Drew, who planted his feet and bent forward, driving his shoulder into Jimmy’s chest.
Jimmy went sprawling, hitting his head hard on the wall. He was up with surprising quickness for someone so drunk, and before Drew could blink Jimmy had drawn a gun and was holding it inches from his face.
“Maura!” Jimmy screamed, his face red. “You come out here now before I shoot this pretty boy of yours.”
Drew’s back was to the hallway, but he heard his office door wrench open.
“Jimmy? Oh, Jimmy. No,” Maura said, her voice breaking. “Jimmy, stop.”
“Go back in the office,” Drew said calmly. He�
��d brought his hands up when Jimmy pulled the gun, and he risked a look over his shoulder. Nick was standing in front of Maura, keeping her from charging down the hallway. His eyes flashed, and Drew shook his head slightly.
“Get over here before I shoot him,” Jimmy slurred. The gun remained steady. “Bitch thinks she can do whatever she wants. Look at what you’re making me do, Maura!”
Jimmy shifted the gun to train it on Maura and Nick, and Maura whimpered.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, her words thick with tears. “I didn’t mean to make you mad. I’m sorry.”
Rage burned through Drew at the hopeless tone of her voice. This clearly wasn’t the first time this asshole had held a gun on her, but it was goddamn well going to be the last. He shot a quick look over his shoulder again, locking gazes with Nick, who looked primed to pounce.
Drew couldn’t let that happen. He knew Nick could be down the hallway and on top of Jimmy before anyone could blink. But it would leave an open shot at Maura, and it would also risk Jimmy and Maura seeing something they shouldn’t. Nick was already losing control of his eyes. If he attacked Jimmy, he’d likely shift, and then they’d have an even bigger problem on their hands.
Time felt like it had stopped as Drew whipped back around to face Jimmy. He knew it was all happening in a matter of seconds, but it felt like moving through wet cement. He saw Jimmy’s attention turn back to him and the gun swing wildly between him and the others. Jimmy’s finger was already squeezing the trigger when Drew moved, making himself as big a target as possible as he lunged forward.
The gunshot was deafeningly loud. He’d treated people for burst eardrums from being too close to concussive blasts, and his first thought was this must be how they’d felt. The sharp pain had been shocking, but the buzzing white noise that drowned everything else out was worse.
He slammed into Jimmy, sending both of them sprawling to the floor. His head bounced off Jimmy’s sternum, settling at an awkward angle that gave him a clear view of Nick and Maura at the other end of the hallway. They were both still on their feet, which was a good sign.
He’d knocked the wind out of himself tackling Jimmy, but he didn’t seem to be able to get his breath back. He watched Nick spring into action, sprinting down the hallway. His mouth was moving but Drew couldn’t hear anything over the incessant ringing in his ears. Maura tore past them, and he watched as she grabbed the phone on Leslie’s desk.
Good. They needed the sheriff so he could come arrest Jimmy.
Nick rolled him off Jimmy, his lips moving frantically as he ran his hands over Drew’s chest. White hot pain spiked through him, and Drew tried to claw at Nick to get him to stop, but he didn’t have the strength to move him. Breathing was getting harder, and each breath felt like torture.
He wanted to ask Nick what was happening, but he couldn’t catch his breath enough to speak. Nick’s eyes were wild, and Drew could hear him shouting over the buzz in his ears but he couldn’t make out the words. A moment later Maura appeared, her hands full of sterile dressing packages from one of the exam rooms.
She was sobbing, and Drew wanted to comfort her but he didn’t know how. Nick took a large package from her and ripped it open. His hands were covered in blood, and Drew blinked, struggling to look down at himself. Was that his blood? Holy shit, Jimmy shot him?
Pain surged through his chest like it had been waiting for him to realize. He must be going into shock. And shit, if Jimmy shot him in the chest then his breathlessness was an even bigger problem than he’d realized. He could have a pneumothorax. Panic made him draw in a breath, and it felt like trying to force molasses into his lungs. Nick’s face swam into view, his lips moving faster than Drew could follow. A moment later the pain crested as Nick put pressure on the wound, and blackness swam around the edges of Drew’s vision. He tried to tell Nick about the danger of his lungs collapsing, but Nick had moved on from pressing the gauze into his wound and was now packing the plastic from the sterile dressing package on top of it. Drew took another painful breath, relief coursing through him as he felt more air enter his lungs this time. Nick had sealed the wound.
Tears clouded Drew’s vision, and Nick raised one hand from putting pressure on his chest to wipe them away. Drew’s hearing had settled enough he could make out the low, comforting hum of Nick’s voice, but he still couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Nick’s head snapped up a few seconds before the EMTs rushed into the room, and Drew was grateful for werewolf hearing because it gave him time to brace himself for the onslaught of pain as the EMTs assessed his wound and started moving him onto a stretcher.
Sheriff’s deputies streamed in next, guns drawn as they moved in to surround Jimmy, who had dropped the gun after Drew had tackled him and hadn’t moved from his spot on the floor. Drew had no idea if the man was conscious or not, but he hoped he wasn’t. The bastard might have shot him, but Drew wanted the vicious satisfaction of knowing he’d knocked him out.
“…meet you there, okay? Drew?”
Drew turned his head and looked at Nick, who was holding his hand and running alongside the stretcher.
“Did you hear me? I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hold on, Drew.”
Drew nodded, his tongue too heavy to reply. He was so tired.
Nick let go of his hand as they loaded him into the back of the ambulance, and his face was the last thing Drew saw before the doors slammed shut and he passed out.
Chapter Eleven
NICK strained to hear Drew’s heartbeat as the ambulance pulled away, but the screaming sirens made it impossible. He’d looked so pale on the gurney, but his pulse had been strong. That was the only thing that had prevented Nick from forcing his way into the ambulance to ride along, sheriff be damned.
“They’re doing everything they can for your friend. Best you can do to help him is come answer some questions,” the sheriff said, tugging Nick’s attention away from the fading siren.
“Where will they take him?”
“Probably end up calling the ’copter to take him to Louisville,” the man said with a shrug. “Our little hospital isn’t set up for trauma.”
Nick’s muscles ached to shift so he could chase down the ambulance. The sheriff seemed to sense his distress because he reached out and let a heavy hand fall on Nick’s shoulder, grounding him.
“C’mon, son, let’s get a statement from you. I’ll call the EMTs for an update when we’re done, and we’ll figure out where they’ve taken him.”
Nick nodded woodenly and followed the man back into the building. Nick avoided looking at the puddle of blood on the tile floor, but that didn’t stop the tang of it from filling his senses. He swallowed hard. Drew had lost a lot of blood.
“Maura told us Jimmy and the doctor were fighting over the gun and it went off.”
Nick’s head snapped up, a snarl on his lips. “No, the guy was about to shoot her, so Drew threw himself at him.”
The sheriff took out a notebook and started writing. “Maura said she was standing with you near the end of the hallway. How did you know Jimmy was about to shoot her?”
Because he’d been able to fucking smell it. The man’s scent had changed from agitated to blindingly angry a moment before he’d leveled the gun on her. But that wasn’t an answer he could give a backwater county sheriff, not without ending up arrested himself.
“He was pointing the gun at her, sheriff. Where I come from, if you point a gun at someone, you’re probably prepared to shoot them.”
“You ain’t wrong about that.” The sheriff looked over his shoulder and shut the notebook, tucking it into his breast pocket. “Crime lab’s here, so I need to get them set up. I’m going to have a deputy take the rest of your statement, so sit tight.”
The sheriff turned and said something to a passing deputy, then looked back at Nick with an uncomfortable level of focus. Wariness bloomed in Nick’s chest. Werewolves did their best to stay out of the spotlight with human authorities, so this was new terri
tory for him.
“You from around here? I’ve met the doctor, but he said he was livin’ out toward Valeene,” the sheriff said.
Camp H.O.W.L. didn’t have an actual address, since it was buried in the middle of federal land. The camp owned a house on the far outskirts of Valeene where all their mail was sent. It also served as a guesthouse for visitors and a place they could list as a permanent address if pressed.
“He’s my boyfriend. We live there together,” Nick said gruffly, and he could tell the moment the sheriff cottoned on to what he meant.
“Huh,” the man said, casting an appraising glance at him. “Well, we’ll do our best to wrap this up quickly so you can get to him. Y’all got any family we should call?”
Nick was stunned by the easy acceptance. He’d anticipated fallout, but he didn’t want to deny what Drew was to him anymore, not even to a stranger. And the minute he could get himself to Drew’s side, he’d make sure Drew knew he was ready to put his name on Drew’s list. Fuck, he’d spend the rest of his life trying to make sure he was the last goddamned name on it. It had been monumentally stupid to try to fight his connection to Drew just because Drew was human.
“He has a brother in Lexington. I’ll make sure someone calls him,” he said numbly. He couldn’t even remember the guy’s name, but Anne Marie would have it. Shit, he had to call Anne Marie.
The sheriff clapped him on the shoulder again, taking Nick off guard enough that he stumbled from the force of it.
“Sit down before you fall down, son. Someone will be over directly.”
He pointed toward the chairs in the tiny waiting room, but Nick had too much caged energy to sit. He paced toward the windows, shoving his hands into his pockets because he couldn’t be sure he wasn’t popping claws.
He felt around for his phone before realizing it was in his satchel behind the desk, which was cordoned off with yellow police tape as officers took pictures and collected evidence. Drew’s blood was still on the floor. It made Nick’s stomach churn.