Page 75 of Winning You
Charlie continued to scream and hit the truck as Lucas tried to calm down and remember where his phone was. His head was a mess, and if Charlie managed to get in, Lucas knew he wasn’t going to be able to properly defend himself.
He could fight. His dad had made sure of that. But this guy sounded unhinged.
The sounds died down after a beat, and Lucas crawled onto his hands and knees, his fingers searching the little cubby under the counter until he found his phone. He was still shaking when he pulled up the screen and hesitated before telling it to call his dad.
“Hey, bud. I’m just getting ready to walk into a patient office, but?—”
“Open this fucking door! I’m going to fucking kill you, you little bitch! You think you and your friend can steal my partner and fucking embarrass me like that?”
“Lucas,” Bronx said, his voice dark. “Where are you?”
“Um. I’m, umm…” Fuck, he couldn’t remember. The truck was shaking again. He could hear a voice nearby, like someone talking on the phone. It wasn’t Charlie. He took a deep, calming breath. “I’m over by the Children’s Museum.”
“I’m walking there now.” He didn’t sound like he was walking. He sounded like he was sprinting.
That’s right. His dad’s vet office was right around the corner. He wanted to cry. “Should I call the cops?” Charlie’s voice was gone now, and the truck was silent. Then Lucas could hear distantly that someone was giving a description of him. “Though I think someone already did.”
“Are you hurt?” Bronx sounded out of breath now.
“I got punched. Um.” Lucas felt his throat go tight. “I think he got me twice, but I shoved him off and locked the truck up.”
“Good. That was good. I see you. There’s a woman a few feet away from the truck, and yeah, I think she’s talking to 9-1-1.”
“Do you see anyone else?”
“Just her, kiddo. I’m a few feet away. Open the door, okay?”
Lucas dropped his phone without hanging up and made his way to the back door. He counted to six, then flipped the lock and pulled the door open. His dad was on him in seconds, backing him up and cupping his face, tilting his head from side to side.
“He got you good.”
Lucas nodded, then burst into tears as the pain and fear and anxiety and panic hit him all at once. Bronx’s arms were around him in an instant, and it was in that quiet comfort that only a parent could give, Lucas managed to breathe easy.
Bronx insisted he go get a scan to make sure nothing was broken. The cops took a report, but they were vaguely condescending, considering that Lucas couldn’t give a visual description.
“I recognized his voice,” he told them. “He’s my neighbor’s brother’s ex-boyfriend. My friend and I caught him abusing his ex in the hallway in my apartment building.”
“Is your friend blind too?” the cop asked.
He could feel his dad’s tension, but Lucas squeezed his hand as he shook his head. “No. And he’s the fire chief’s son, so you cannot get nasty with me like I can’t somehow identify the guy who has now attacked two people.”
The cop shut up after that. He took Lucas’s information, and then Lucas gave him Frankie’s number because if anyone could get them to Charlie, it was him.
After that, he was hustled to the ER by his dad, and Monty was there by the time they arrived. He was a little low, and it was obvious he was trying to avoid a stress-induced fainting spell, so Lucas did his best to control his cluster of anxiety attacks as he sat in a small room, waiting for radiology to take him back.
They’d all been quiet for a long time, Lucas icing his face and Bronx pacing the room. Then Monty cleared his throat. “You know him, right? The person who attacked you?”
“I met him once. Gage, uh…Gage kind of knocked him on his ass after we caught him hurting his boyfriend.” He left out the part where Fallon was the younger brother of the man Lucas was sleeping with.
“I’m going to put you in touch with someone,” Monty said.
Lucas grimaced. “I don’t want to make this a thing, okay? I’m sure the cops are going to take care of it.” He was absolutely not sure the cops were going to take care of it. Charlie was behaving with an unhinged boldness that Lucas hadn’t experienced before, and he didn’t know what the guy was capable of. But while he was worried for himself and another run-in with Charlie, he was more worried about Fallon.
Shit. He needed to call Frankie. “Do you have my phone?”
“Oh. Damn it, I think it’s in the truck. I can run you by there after you’re discharged,” Bronx said.
Lucas fought off a groan. Knowing the ER, it was going to take hours before he was diagnosed and released. It would be well past their date time. Frankie would be texting, and calling, and probably knocking on his door.
