Page 94 of Evening Shadows

“Give me a minute, Sugar, and we’ll get everything off,” Doc said soothingly.

Her wide eyes searched the room and landed on him. While he hated to see her in trouble, knowing she wanted him in that moment had him standing ten feet tall.

Casper slipped in and handed Doc a med kit, offered his help, but left at Doc’s refusal. Ken reminded himself to thank the man for not adding another body for seeing her down to her sports bra.

Sam closed her eyes as if biting off the pain. He took her hand in his, clasped it, and lifted it to his mouth, kissing the back of hers.

When Doc gave her a shot, she stiffened but relaxed a moment later. The Sam he knew in Georgia had a big hatred for needles. The burning pain had to override it.

“How’s that?” Doc asked as he opened the vest.

She grimaced, and he almost asked Doc to stop, but the man needed to triage her.

“I’ve got to cut the shirt to see.” Doc waited for her to nod before he continued. When he opened the shirt, Ken had to hold back his raging anger at Beverly. Instead, he focused that energy—positively—on Sam.

The shot had landed on the left side, lower rib. A large blotch of deep red marked the spot of impact. He wanted to lean down and kiss the spot and would if it’d take away the pain.

Based on the location of where the wound was—since he hadn’t worn a vest—it would’ve hit him in the gut.

“Were you hurt?” she asked him while Doc prodded at her chest.

This woman, who’d considered wanting him dead, had not only helped him escape death, she’d stepped in front of a bullet for him.

“No, sweetheart, you were a fool for stepping in front of that bullet. But I love you for it.”

“You weren’t wearing a vest.”

With how form-fitting hers had been designed, he hadn’t realized she’d worn hers. So used to seeing her in it with the clothes she wore, it hadn’t caught his attention. He kissed her on the forehead with a newfound tenderness. He’d never known a woman could save him emotionally and physically. Realizing that, there’d been no doubt the woman who could achieve all that would be Samantha Milton. Soon to be Samantha Patrick.

Her stepping in front of a bullet for him sealed the deal. In his mind, the action was as close enough to a yes for him as it got.

As her voice weakened, she said, “Thank you. Thank you for having her sign the papers for Cody.”

“I didn’t do it just for you, sweetheart, I did it for Cody and for us.”

A wide smile grew on her face, but her eyes began to get glassy, and her pupils changed. He snapped his head up to Doc. “What the hell did you give her?”

“Calm down. It’s only a mild painkiller. We’re reworking our approval to stock something heavier.” He looked down at Sam. “Sugar, I don’t believe you’ve broken your ribs, but you could have fractures that I can’t see. Do you want to go to the hospital and get them X-rayed?”

She shook her head. “No. It doesn’t hurt when I breathe. It burns and throbs where it impacted.”

“What do you think, Doc?” Ken asked. “Should she go?”

“I’ll always advise going, no matter the injury as I’m not a full-fledged doctor nor do I have all the tools and equipment needed.”

Ken almost growled. “Fuck. That didn’t answer my question.”

“I’d recommend she go because I imagine there’s a fracture or two—probably small. But they won’t be able to do anything but wrap them tightly.”

“I’m fine. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” Sam said, and then promptly passed out.

“Shit, Doc, what the hell’s wrong with her?”

As he checked her pulse, Doc said, “Don’t worry, that’s probably the painkiller.”

Frantic, with his blood pulsing through his veins, he made a decision. “I’m taking her to the hospital.”

“She’s going to be pissed at you,” Doc warned.

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