Conversation after that was light, with Bricker doing most of the talking. CJ was relieved because she was having trouble thinking about anything other than Mac’s nearness. He had shifted closer to her along the booth to avoid the waitress’s space-invading maneuvers earlier and hadn’t moved back. It meant his knee was pressed lightly against her own and his arm occasionally brushed hers. Both of which made her aware of him in ways she wasn’t completely comfortable with.
CJ knew she should ask him to give her some space now that the waitress was gone, but for some reason she didn’t, which was just something she had no desire to question or think about. She also didn’t want to think about the strange combination of relief and disappointment she experienced when they finished their meal and the waitress brought the check. The relief was expected. Soon they would get up and Mac would have no excuse to remain so close to her. The disappointment, however, was because soon they would get up and Mac would have no excuse to remain so close to her. It was a conundrum, CJ acknowledged to herself as she insisted on paying for her own meal and accepted the mobile handheld little gadget to pay using her debit card.
“Cowessess Jane Cummings,” Bricker said suddenly, his gaze on her card.
CJ had to resist the urge to hide the bank card. It was too late anyway. Instead, she calmly finished the transaction and said, “You actually pronounced it correctly.”
“I had a job in Saskatchewan a couple years ago and the Cowessess First Nation is there,” Justin said with a shrug. “I first thought it was pronounced Cow-wessess, but soon learned it was actually Cow-sess.”
CJ nodded as she finished and put her card away. She didn’t ask what kind of job he had out in Saskatchewan, but did wonder.
“Were you named after the First Nation?” Mac asked with curiosity as Decker pulled out a credit card to pay for the other three meals.
“No,” CJ said, and reluctantly admitted, “A social worker named me after the two officers who found me: Officer Cowessess and Officer Cummings. They were partners.”
“Found you?” Mac asked gently.
“Yes.” The word was stiff and she gave him a nudge to get him moving so that she could get out of the booth. “We should head out. I have an appointment with Captain Dupree and Jefferson at 3 p.m. and I have to take you back to Mrs. Vesper’s first to drop off your clothes. After my appointment, we should probably see about renting you boys a car so you don’t have to constantly depend on me.”
No one argued and the men quickly slid out of the booth once Decker had finished paying for their meals.
They were outside and walking to her car before Bricker asked, “What about the middle name Jane? Where did that come from?”
“It was the first name they gave me when I was found. Kind of a place saver while they looked for any family.”
“Jane Doe,” Mac said quietly, working it out without her having to explain.
“Yes,” she said without emotion, and was searching for a way to change the subject when Bricker gave a sudden shout of warning. CJ instinctively stopped walking to look around for any threat, and had just spotted a red pickup barreling down on them from her left, when she was caught around the waist, slammed into Mac, and pretty much thrown forward with him by Justin Bricker.
CJ felt Mac’s arms close around her as they flew through the air, was aware of his turning his body in an effort to shield her from impact as they crashed toward the tarmac, heard his grunt of pain, and saw the agony that flashed across his face as they hit the ground and slid. But she only caught a brief glimpse of it. The jolt of their rough landing had her head snapping forward over his shoulder. The next moment her forehead slammed into the tarmac so hard stars swam in front of her eyes . . . before they blinked out, leaving darkness.
Eleven
“CJ?” Mac asked with concern, worried by the way she’d suddenly gone limp against his chest. Rolling her under him, he lifted his weight from her body and peered down into her pale face, noting that her eyes were closed and blood was pouring from a wound on her forehead. “Dammit!”
“What is it? What happened?” Decker’s growl drew his attention around to see him half carrying Bricker toward them. While the young immortal had basically tossed them out of the way like they were a couple of toddlers, Bricker obviously hadn’t got out of the way in time himself. One arm was bloody and hanging limp, and one leg mangled and dragging behind as Decker helped him hop toward them. He also had a head wound. It looked much worse than CJ’s, but he was still conscious so the flap of skin drooping down to reveal the skull beneath apparently wasn’t as damaging as what CJ had received. At least his skull looked fully intact. It made Mac worry that CJ’s wasn’t.
“We have to get her to the hospital,” Mac said grimly, scooping CJ up and getting to his feet.
“Bricker needs blood,” Decker said with a frown, and then catching a glimpse of his back, added, “So do you.”
Mac wasn’t surprised at that news. He’d slid across the pavement on his back and probably had a serious case of road rash, third-degree friction burns where his skin had been scraped off by the tarmac. “CJ goes to the hospital first, then you can use her car to take Bricker back to the RV for blood while I wait at the hospital with her.”
Decker didn’t argue. As an immortal, Bricker would heal from any wound he’d sustained the moment he was given blood. But CJ was mortal, and much more fragile. Her head wound could be deadly, so as Mac expected, Decker merely nodded and scooped up Bricker to follow him to CJ’s car. Mac had reached the vehicle and was shifting CJ in his arms to open the back door when he noticed that Decker wasn’t with him anymore. Pausing, he glanced around and saw that the other man had stopped to deal with the restaurant workers and guests who had poured out of the Pub and Grill to hurry toward them. Mac watched as their faces turned blank and they began to return inside, and then—assured that Decker had handled it—he finished opening the back door and slid in with CJ, arranging her in his lap so that he could see her face.
“Do you know where the hospital is?” Mac asked Decker with concern a moment later as the other immortal settled Bricker in the front passenger seat. The injured immortal’s eyes were closed now, his face slack. He’d obviously lost consciousness. No doubt due to the pain, Mac thought as Decker nodded in answer to his question.
“We passed it several times while trying to figure out where you were,” Decker told him. “It’s on the edge of town on the main street.”
Decker had straightened and closed the passenger door, so Mac didn’t comment; he merely grunted and lowered his head to peer at CJ. She was as still as death in his arms, her face much prettier in repose without her defenses tightening her features. But she was so pale.
“Did you see who was in the pickup?” Decker asked as he slid into the driver’s seat a moment later and started the engine.
“No,” Mac admitted grimly as the man steered them out of the parking lot. “You?”
“No. It all happened too fast,” Decker said unhappily. “Bricker shouted, I started to turn, and then you two were flying through the air and he was disappearing under the pickup, and then the pickup was gone.” He was silent for a minute and then added, “It was red. That’s all I saw.”
Mac hadn’t even seen that, so could hardly complain that Decker hadn’t got the license plate.
“I guess this means whoever set the fire knows you survived it.”
Mac glanced toward Decker with surprise. “You think that truck deliberately tried to hit us?”
“Well, it sure as hell was no accident,” Decker said grimly. “The guy came out of nowhere going eighty. No one goes eighty in a parking lot.”
“Right,” Mac said, thinking he must have sustained a little brain damage too if he hadn’t considered that for himself. Sighing, he turned his gaze back down to CJ. She’d only been hurt because she was with him. And the hell of it was, he had no idea who was trying to kill him.
“I’ll take care of Bricker and then bring back blood for you,” Decker said as he turned into the hospital parking lot moments later.
“Right,” Mac said, looking around impatiently as Decker drove them to the emergency entrance.
“Wait!” Decker barked, shifting into Park and jumping out of the car when Mac opened his door and got out with CJ in his arms.
“Put this on when you have the chance,” Decker said as he yanked his T-shirt off and draped it over Mac’s shoulders to hide his back. “It’ll save you having to wipe the minds of the entire emergency room.” He took a moment to tuck the top of the T-shirt into the back of the neckline of Mac’s own ruined T-shirt and then stepped back. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”
“Thanks,” Mac said, and hurried toward the hospital’s emergency doors.
He had been prepared to take control of the first emergency room worker he spotted and make them help CJ, but it wasn’t necessary. The moment Mac strode into the busy waiting area with CJ in his arms, people came rushing to his side. It was the blood pouring from her forehead and her lack of consciousness that caused the stir, he supposed. Head wounds were a serious business and it apparently put her at the top of the queue for assistance.
“What happened?” the first woman to reach him asked, lifting CJ’s eyelids to peer at her eyes even as she ushered him quickly through the milling people waiting to be seen.
“Hit-and-run,” Mac said grimly as he was led through a pair of double doors to a hall that led off in three directions. A woman pushing a wheelchair rushed up, but he ignored the chair and gave the woman a mental push to make her leave him alone as the first woman led him to a tiny room with a gurney. Mac carefully laid CJ on it. It was only when he straightened and glanced around that he realized that others had joined them. There were now four people in the small room besides CJ and himself: a doctor and three nurses.