Page 14 of Lone Star Wanted
Jericho grinned and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Dr. Pat,” he said. “She’s stitched me up a time or two,” he added to Cassidy.
The doctor snorted. “Right arm, stomach, and your left ass cheek.”
Cassidy blinked, then looked at Kincade, who somehow managed not to smile. Jericho looked damn proud of the tally.
Dr. Pat gave Kincade a once-over, then pointed to the tiny exam table. “Sit. I’ve got maybe ten minutes before I kick all of you out.”
Kincade sat down with a wince, his long frame awkward on the kid-sized surface. The doctor pulled on gloves and started cleaning the cut at his temple with practiced hands.
He didn’t flinch, but Cassidy saw the muscle in his jaw tick.
Dr. Pat clucked under her breath. “This needs X-rays. Probably a CT scan. Can’t do either here.”
“Just fix me up the best you can,” Kincade said, voice quiet but firm. “We don’t have time to wait on hospitals or paperwork.”
Dr. Pat didn’t argue. She just muttered something about stubborn operatives and reached for the antiseptic.
Cassidy stepped back, watching the way Kincade sat still, eyes fixed straight ahead, jaw tight. He didn’t complain. Didn’t ask questions. Just endured.
It made her chest tighten for reasons she didn’t want to examine.
Jericho stepped away from the exam table and pulled out his phone, thumbs tapping fast as Dr. Pat continued her work on Kincade’s head. Cassidy could hear the faint clink of metal against the tray, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights overhead.
“She’s got a drone in the air,” Jericho said, eyes still on his screen.
Cassidy frowned. “Ruby?”
“Yeah,” Jericho confirmed. “She called in a favor. Drone’s over the quarry now, circling wide.”
He angled the screen so they could see. The live feed showed an aerial view—sharp resolution, scanning the rocky terrain and tree line with practiced sweeps. Kincade shifted slightly to look as well, though the doctor swatted his shoulder with a muttered“Sit still.”
The video scrolled smoothly, but there was nothing but patrol cruisers and a couple of deputies moving in slow formation. No one else. No heat signatures beyond the K-9s and their handlers.
“No sign of your brother,” Jericho muttered.
Cassidy swallowed the spike of disappointment and nodded once. She didn’t need words to confirm what she already feared.
Then Jericho looked at her, his tone shifting with a spark of mischief. “So… are you and Kincade together-together?”
Her head snapped toward him. “What?”
Jericho kept a straight face. “Just checking. I mean, I only ask when one of my teammates is clearly pining away like a sad, tactical Romeo.”
Kincade scowled from the table. “Jericho.”
“What?” Jericho said, throwing up a hand like he was innocent. “It’s true. He hasn’t stopped watching you since you walked in.”
Cassidy opened her mouth, ready to fire back something, anything, but Jericho wasn’t finished.
“Besides, I was there when Travis told Ruby his kid sister was off-limits to anyone from Maverick Ops. Said he’d break the jaw of the first guy who tried.”
Cassidy blinked. “Wait. What?”
She turned to Kincade, but he only shrugged.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, realization dawning. “That’s why.”
His expression said it all. Apology, frustration, guilt. Everything she hadn’t understood back then suddenly clicked into place.
