Page 3 of Flint's Battle

Emery pressed the ice against her skin, a muted hiss escaping her clenched teeth. While Flint knew she’d never admit it, the wound obviously hurt. The way her lips pursed together,forming little lines around the corners or how her eyelids fluttered a few times before she seemed to get the pain under control — push it down like he’d done a thousand times in the field. The girl was pure grit.

Kian sighed, removing the ice for a moment as he surveyed the wound. “It’s not bad, and I doubt it’ll scar, but facial injuries have a nasty habit of bruising. I hope your captain doesn’t give you a hard time when you show up at the station with a shiner.”

Emery snorted. “With how thin we’re spread? I barely see the man. Regardless, he knows I moonlight, so…”

“Which still amazes me. You’re far too skilled to be doing security for us. Not that I’m complaining. We never have to worry when you’re on shift.”

“I like the social aspect of it.”

“Only you would think kicking assholes out of a bar is a social event.”

“We all have to have a hobby.”

Kian chuckled. “You are unique, Emery.” He stepped back, surveying his handiwork. “Those strips are only meant to stay on long enough for the skin adhesive to set, so don’t worry if they fall off by morning. And try to keep the area clean. I also recommend avoiding drunk guys with attitudes, but I’m not one to curtail someone’s hobby.”

“Thanks. I appreciate not having to tape it myself.”

Kian rolled his eyes. “You’re as bad as Blake, always downplaying an injury. Do me a favor, and let someone else drive you home, just to be safe. While you aren’t showing any signs of a concussion, I’d prefer to err on the side of caution. It might be best if you didn’t suddenly become light sensitive while staring into oncoming traffic. And do you have someone who can wake you during the night?”

Emery glanced at Flint, not that it was obvious. More of a slight shift of her eyes in his direction but he noticed. “I live alone.”

“A timer, then.”

“Got it.”

“And thanks. I’m just sorry none of us realized those assholes at the other table were part of the gang.”

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with a thousand times before.”

Kian merely shook his head, giving Flint a knowing glance as he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone in the office.

Flint closed the distance, gently snagging her wrist when she tried to touch the cut Kian had just closed. “Pretty sure you’re not supposed to touch that.” He handed her back the ice pack. “But this might help.”

She took it, frowning as she placed it against her cheek. “I can’t believe I didn’t block that punch. I must be losing my edge living in paradise.”

“You’re not losing your edge. It was five against one. And you did quite a number on the other two, so I’d say you won.”

“Winning isn’t supposed to hurt.”

“On the contrary. It’s how you know you won. In my experience, you don’t feel anything when you lose… because you’re dead.”

She snorted, winced, then swatted his chest. “You did that on purpose. You know laughing hurts.”

He grinned. “Speaking of hurting, Kian did say you should have someone else drive you home.”

Emery stared up at him, looking as if she wanted to raise her brow but was worried it would set off some kind of chain reaction of pain. “Why do I get the feeling you’re about to volunteer?”

“Because you’re good at your job.” He paused. “Unless you already have a ride home.”

“I could ask Dahlia or Mia, but honestly? I was going to ignore that part and drive myself.”

“And if you do have a concussion?”

“I don’t.” She held up her hand. “Had a few of those, too, and this just hurts where I got hit.”

“Still, Kian isn’t one to baby a patient so… might be best if you humor him and let me drive you home.”

Emery narrowed her eyes. “And how will you get back to your cabin on Hawk’s ranch?”

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