Page 73 of Flare Up
“No.” He had no interest in an ambulance ride.
While Rick talked on the radio, Grant looked around as much as he could without moving his head, trying to figure out what had fallen on him. There was nothing.
“Cobb’s going to take you in.”
“Oh, lucky me.” He pushed himself to a sitting position, very gingerly rolling his head from side to side. Nothing was too damaged. But when he put his hand to the spot on the side of his head, he winced. His helmet hadn’t been secured and it must have slipped when he ducked, allowing the pipe or whatever it was to deal him a glancing blow.
They helped him to his feet and then Rick and Gavin supported him for the walk to Cobb’s SUV. After loading him into the backseat, they decided to send Gavin along, too. They’d swing by and get his truck and then he’d meet them at the hospital so he could get Grant home when he was cleared.
By the time he’d been seen and poked and scanned, they’d gotten word Tommy would be okay. As heart attacks went, it could have been a lot worse, but he was going to have to clean up his dietary habits in a big way. And maybe develop some fitness habits. And lucky him, he had Lydia and Ashley to make sure he did.
“He’ll be in better shape than us in six months,” Gavin said, once he’d gotten the call from Aidan.
“If I don’t have a concussion, why can’t I go home?” Grant grumbled.
“You do have a concussion. It’s just a mild one. And the nurse went to get you some meds. Just lay there and shut up.”
“There was no piping. No shelving.”
Gavin shook his head. “There was nothing on the floor, either. Nothing that resembled a pipe at all.”
“Somebody hit me and took off?”
“I don’t know, man. I hate to think that, but I don’t know what else could have happened.” He glanced at his phone, probably checking the time, and then shoved it in his pocket. “Maybe it was somebody taking advantage of the chaos to grab what he could get out of the cash register, but then he had to hide in the storage room when we went back in.”
“That’s pretty unlikely. There were a lot of people there.”
“A lot of people not paying attention to the register. Or the tip jar under the counter.”
Grant had to admit it was possible, but far from probable. “It doesn’t feel like that to me.”
“No, me either,” Gavin said reluctantly. “Even if somebody did want to grab the cash, there was no reason to hit you because you weren’t paying any more attention to it than anybody else.”
“There was no reason to hit me at all. Unless it was personal.” And if it was personal... “I don’t want anybody outside the brass to know what happened.”
Gavin gave him a look. “That’s a mistake.”
“I don’t want Wren to find out.” It would spook her and God only knew what she’d do.
“Remember that time you wanted to follow them to their girls’ night out and I told you it was a bad idea and you said it wasn’t and then it was?” He shook his head. “This is way worse.”
“I’m fine. No harm done.”
“Harm was done. And if there’s even the slightest possibility this was related to her situation, not telling her is going to piss her off in a big way.”
Grant couldn’t take even imagining the look on Wren’s face if he told her about this. “Do you tell Cait about every bump and bruise you get on the job?”
“Now you’re just being an asshole.” Gavin leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “If you won’t listen to reason on that score, try this one. Right now, Wren’s just out there living her life today, with no idea this guy might be nearby. Watching.”
Grant’s stomach rolled. “He never hit her. He was an asshole, but she said he never laid a hand on her. Just her brother.”
“He never went to prison and then followed her five hundred or so miles, either.”
“If he did. I don’t want to scare her until I know what’s actually going on.”
“You mean you don’t want her to take off again.”
“She won’t run.” He was almost sure of it.
