25. Colt

25

COLT

I was a goddamned idiot.

The last thing I needed was Ridley in my space. Her nosy nature and burnt orange scent. Her blinding smile and ridiculous cat. But I wasn’t about to leave her to this asshole, especially after she’d been attacked.

The asshole puffed up his chest, trying to make himself look taller, more intimidating. It failed. “Who the hell are you?”

I grinned at him, but knew it was sharkish. I tapped the star on the left side of my chest. “Sheriff Brooks.”

The douche scrunched up his nose as if he smelled something bad. “Ridley doesn’t want to stay with you.”

“Ridley can speak for herself. I’ve found she’s real good at that.”

Ridley’s lips twitched. “When people are willing to listen.”

The woman had a damned good point. And it was time I took it to heart. “What do you say, Chaos?”

She glanced between the two of us.

“Ridley,” the douche hissed.

She looked at me. “Can I bring Tater?”

I sighed. “Yeah, you can bring the weird water cat.”

“You do not want to do this,” the man next to the bed warned.

“That sounds a hell of a lot like a threat,” I growled, starting toward him.

Ridley held up a hand and sent me a pleading look that had me stopping in my tracks. She turned her focus to the douche. “Baker, you need to back off. You know our contract. I get final say on all cases. You can decide not to run the rest of this case if you want, but I’ll just publish it under my own umbrella. I’m not letting some gutless asswipe scare me away. All the attack told me is that I’m getting close.”

An invisible fist ground against my sternum. She was so damn brave. But it was the kind of bravery that could get you killed. And I wouldn’t be able to live with that. No way in hell.

Baker stiffened. “I made you.”

Ridley just scoffed. “The hell you did.”

“We’ll just have to see what happens when I put all my resources behind Reality Rampage instead of you.”

She shrugged. “Have at it. My approach has always been grassroots. And that’s not something you control.”

Baker spat a curse, turned on his heel, and stormed past me like a toddler having a tantrum.

“Jesus,” I muttered.

“My thoughts exactly,” Dr. Sapra echoed.

Ridley slumped against the gurney’s mattress, suddenly looking exhausted. “I’m sorry. He’s a douchebag on a good day.”

“Your producer or something?” I asked. I didn’t like that he was conveniently in town the night Ridley was attacked.

She nodded. “I’ve been with him for almost three years now.”

Three years. I didn’t even want to think about the bullshit she’d had to deal with in that time. “Might be time to rethink that arrangement.”

Ridley sighed. “You’re probably right. I just haven’t wanted to deal with the nightmare of leaving him.”

I bet the little shit would throw a hissy fit. But at least the relationship would be severed. I’d get his full name from the podcast’s website and run him. Just to cover my bases. I turned to Dr. Sapra. It wasn’t the first time I’d been in her ER for a case. This one just felt a hell of a lot more personal.

“Ridley good to go?” I asked.

Dr. Sapra immediately turned to her patient. “Do you feel safe going with Colt? I am happy to admit you for the night, and I can find a temporary home for Tater.”

An angry meow sounded from the corner. My gaze locked on the carrier in the corner and the very pissed-off cat inside. “Might want to be careful there,” I warned. “That thing is liable to take out your jugular.”

Ridley glared at me. “Tater isn’t a thing . She’s a cat. And she wouldn’t hurt a soul.”

“Tell that to my hand,” I shot back.

“Oh please. She didn’t even break the skin.” Then a smile stretched across her face. “You know, Dr. Sapra, just to be safe, we should probably give Colt a round of rabies shots. I hear they’re extremely painful.”

Dr. Sapra choked on a laugh. “That they are.”

I turned to Ridley and scowled, but relief swept through me. If she was giving me shit, things couldn’t be that bad. “What do we need to get out of here, Doc?”

She glanced at Ridley. “You’re good to go with Colt?”

Ridley nodded. “He’s better than the alternative.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered. But another dose of relief hit me.

“And are you okay if I share medical information with him?” Dr. Sapra asked.

“That’s fine,” Ridley said, but the words held a strain.

She was so damn strong. Didn’t want me to see the slightest evidence of weakness. But this wasn’t her weakness. It was someone else’s—someone I was going to find and make sorry they’d ever touched her.

“All right.” Dr. Sapra turned to me. “We don’t see any signs of TBI in the tests, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. If Ridley shows any signs of confusion, vomiting, blurred vision, or difficulty standing and walking, I want you to bring her back immediately.”

I swallowed hard. Fuck. How badly had she been hurt? I didn’t miss the way the doctor skirted that issue. But Ridley would have to share at some point.

Dr. Sapra crossed to Ridley’s bed with a syringe. “This is a painkiller. It’ll make you sleepy but should also ease the pain in your neck and throat, and along your ribs. I’ll want Colt to wake you up every three hours for the next twenty-four, just as a precaution.”

“Thanks,” Ridley whispered as the doctor slid the needle into her IV.

Ridley’s voice always pulled you in, the musical bent to it, but with groundedness you couldn’t fake. Now it was raspy, as if her vocal cords had been shredded. The difference and Dr. Sapra’s statement had me seeking out Ridley’s throat.

As my gaze settled on the usually golden skin, rage blasted through me, so intense it burned me from the inside out. There were fingerprints ringing her throat in an angry array. They hadn’t darkened to purplish blue yet, but I knew they would. Right now they were red, broken blood vessels dotting her skin.

It should’ve been the first thing I’d noticed when I walked through the door, but I’d been too damned distracted by the asshole producer. But as my gaze settled on the abused skin again, the violence of the attack became all too clear.

Someone had strangled Ridley. Maybe even tried to kill her.

As if Ridley had a radar for my emotions, her gaze cut to me. “Law Man,” she started cautiously. “You okay?”

“Who. The. Hell. Did. This. To. You?”