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“He’s all sutured up. I gave him some ibuprofen, but I’m not sure he took it.”
“He took it,” Nico said, moving toward the couch and crouching beside Spence, who looked like he’d fallen asleep. “His head hurts like a son-of-a-bitch right now.”
“He said he was fine,” she whispered, following Nico’s lead.
“Of course he did.” Nico shook his head. “He’d say he was fine if he’d just had a leg amputated.”
Zoe snorted a laugh, then turned to Nico. “Thank you for that. I’ve been feeling so guilty. He was hurt because of me.”
“He was hurt doing his job,” Nico corrected her. “I’m sure the doctor tested him for a concussion.” He raised one eyebrow. Zoe nodded.
“Yeah. He said no concussion.”
“So he’ll be fine. Just needs some rest.” He glanced at the pizza boxes. “And some food.”
He touched Zoe’s arm. “I’ll see you on Friday but tell Spence I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” He watched her for a moment. “It’s okay, Zoe,” he said, his voice gentle. “You can stand down. He’s fine.”
“There was a lot of blood,” she said, swallowing hard.
“There always is with head wounds.” He grabbed her shoulder and squeezed. “Feed him, then get him into bed. He’ll be a lot better in the morning.”
“Thanks, Nico. And thanks for the personal delivery.”
“I needed to make sure Spence was okay,” he said, his voice gruff. “Now I know he is. And he’s in good hands.” He stepped toward the elevator, pressed the button and nodded to her as he stepped into the car. The doors slid closed.
“Is he gone?” Spence asked.
She whirled around to stare at him. “I thought you were asleep.”
“Nope. Just resting my eyes.” He stood up slowly, as if testing what a change in position would do to his head, then nodded at the bag on the kitchen table.
“Dinner?”
“Yeah. Sit down and I’ll get you a can of Spinny D. That seltzer you like.”
