Page 45 of Full Throttle

“Because I love you.”

“Dom!”

I pulled my aching head out of my hands and stood. Hannah rushed across the waiting room, Chase close behind her. Unable to get a hold of her, I had called Charly, who’d taken charge and sent Maxx to the theater to get Hannah and tell her what happened. He drove them into Toronto, making sure they arrived safely.

Hannah was visibly upset, gripping Chase’s hand as she stopped in front of me.

“Your head!” she gasped.

Ignoring the pain it caused, I shrugged. “They said it was too deep for butterfly bandages. The stitches make it look worse than it is.”

Hannah grabbed my arm. “I spoke with the paramedics, Dom. They said you risked your life to get her. You saved her.”

I frowned. “Of course I saved her. She needed me.”

Hannah flung her arm around my neck, hugging me hard. “Thank you,” she whispered brokenly.

I hugged her back as best I could, considering she was still holding on to Chase with a tight grip, as if she needed him to stay standing. “She’s going to be okay,” I assured her. “I spoke with the doctor, and he said she has a concussion, a broken arm, some bruising, and, of course, the smoke inhalation. They’re going to keep her overnight for observation.”

“Her apartment?” Chase asked.

I shook my head. “Gone. All of it. And the salon.”

Chase pulled Hannah close. “It’s okay, Cinnamon. She’ll stay with us.”

“She’ll stay with me,” I responded, my voice firm. “I’ll look after her.”

They blinked at my tone, and I drew in a calming breath. “I have room. And I can adjust my shifts.”

“She’s my mom,” Hannah protested.

“She’s mine to care for.”

A slow smile spread across Hannah’s face. “Is that a fact, Dom?”

“Yes.”

“I guess we’ll see about that.”

She headed to the nurses station, speaking to one of the women. She turned her head and looked at me, rolling her eyes, then headed to the back.

Chase glanced at me. “Should I ask?”

“They wouldn’t give me any information or let me see her unless I was family.”

“So you told them…?”

“I was her husband.”

“Which makes Hannah your…”

“Stepdaughter.”

“I guess that sort of makes me your son-in-law.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

He grinned. “Okay then…Dad.”