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“Stay down,” he growled. “Until an EMT can check you out.”
“Where’s Knight? Where’s Shelly?”
“Take a deep breath, Mia.”
“Don’t tell me to take a deep breath,” I snapped. “Was anyone killed? Did I—please tell me I got him? Please tell me I hit Dev.”
Flynn shook his head in negation, his jaw clamping shut. He didn’t address any of my other concerns because his eyes strayed from mine to look across the lawn.
“What is it?”
“The sheriff is here.”
“For the love of God, that’s all we need,” I muttered. “Fuck this.” I slowly sat up and I was immediately assaulted by dancing vision. I closed my eyes to keep from throwing up.
Flynn bellowed, “Hey! We’ve got a woman with a concussion over here.”
“Why did Ramsey tackle me?”
“You’ll have to ask him that.”
“Where is he,” I muttered. “I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said a smooth voice, dripping with a velvety Scottish brogue.
“Mia, I’d like to introduce Ramsey Buchanan. Take nothing of what he says at face value.”
The man named Ramsey rolled striking green eyes and pushed the dark curls off his forehead before squatting down next to me.
“Sorry, lass.” He winked. “Had to take you from behind.”
I couldn’t help but laugh even though it hurt my head. “You didn’t have to tackle me.”
“Aye, I did. You were in danger. Quickest way to get you out of danger was to tackle you.”
An EMT finally made his way over to me; Flynn and Ramsey stayed while I got the green light to move.
“If a headache comes on, get to a doctor immediately,” the young EMT said. “Same for blurry vision, nausea, any hint of passing out or not being able to stay awake during normal hours.”
“I’m about to head to the hospital. I’ll be surrounded by doctors if I need one,” I replied.
Looking around the park, I was saddened by the carnage. Books with fractured spines and torn pages littered the grass, broken toys, splintered pieces of furniture—everything that had been for sale was decimated. It was a depressing sight.
I walked toward Boxer and Reap. They were talking with a handful of men I didn’t recognize; I assumed they were with Flynn. “Where’s Knight?” I asked Boxer. “The last I saw of him, he was in the thick of it.”
“Getting stitched up at the hospital.” Reap grimaced. “He went after one of the guys that shot at you. Got himself a knife to the shoulder for his trouble.”
A pang of worry went through me when I thought about my father and his injury, but he was alive.
“Just got off the phone with Joni,” Boxer said, his eyes dark. “They’ve patched up Colt’s side. He’ll be fine, but they conked him out.” His jaw clenched. “Cheese took a bullet to the chest. He’s in emergency surgery.”
“Oh God,” I whispered.
Boxer looked at Reap, who nodded.
“What?” I asked. “What’s that look mean?”
Boxer placed his hand on my shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. “It’s Shelly.”
