Chapter 9

I'm so tempted to actually slap that smirk off Luke's face that it surprises even me. But I've had enough violence for the day, so I just leave him hanging and return to the officer.

"I'm sorry about that. I've been assisting Mr. Shaw with recovery after an injury by these very criminals. He was concerned and followed me home."

I side-eye Luke as I mention how he took it upon himself to apparently stalk me and try not to dwell on the fact that it is a good thing he did so.

Thinking about what might have happened is not a smart idea. I know the panic a what-if downward spiral can cause, and it won't serve me well or make things better.

Focus, Clara. Focus on what's ahead of you.

As we're standing there and the officer is about to reply, one of the two others who went inside comes running out, and my heart kicks back up into high gear.

"Mr. Chen! Is he all right?"

My eyes are already stinging at the prospects, but the cop jogging up nods slowly.

"He's got a concussion, I'm pretty sure, but an ambulance is on the way, and he's responsive."

A sigh of relief slips free, and I sag into myself a bit.

Suddenly, I'm exhausted. My medical training reminds me it's the aftereffect of shock, and I look around for something to lean on.

Luke quickly comes up behind me as he notices my weary expression and guides me back toward the trunk of one of the squad cars.

"You good, doc?" He's smiling, but not even that megawatt grin can hide the concern.

It's far too…something of him to be worried about me like that, and I feel vulnerable under his gaze.

He's always calling me doc.

"I'm fine. It's just the adrenaline wearing off." I wave him away, and the officer comes up to me again.

"You're a doctor then, I take it."

"Yes, apologies. I'm Dr. Clara Stewart. I'm a surgical resident at Lakeshore Valley Hospital."

I now realize the man didn't have time to run my information before I started speaking with him, and I have no ID on me.

As we're gathered there, another car pulls up and this one Luke goes to right away.

A man steps out from the driver seat, and he and Luke clap arms in a brotherly hug.

I don't want to be nosey, but I find myself staring at them as they chat just out of earshot.

They're clearly not actually related, unless maybe they're half siblings, because the man Luke is talking to is African American.

Still, they stand close, speaking easily to each other like they've known one another for years. Military friend?

"Dr. Stewart," the officer who went into the shop addresses me. "We've cleared the scene, and there's no one left inside. We believe they fled when they saw you interact with Mr. Shaw. Can you tell us more about them?"

"Uh, sure."

My brain is fuzzy on the minute details, like what they wore, but I remember the main guy from that night at work.

"The one I recognized was at the hospital. He's about five-ten, five-eleven. He wore baggy clothes when I first saw him. Today, I'm not sure. He has a gold tooth in front. I remember seeing it that night. Dark hair and eyes. Luke, um, Mr. Shaw, that is, said they're part of a group called the Crimson Cobras."

Just then, Luke and his friend walk over.

"Officers." The man wearing a suit strides over confidently, and they seem to recognize him. "Cobras is correct. He was the same man who injured Mr. Shaw in the warehouse altercation. That description should be with the detectives from their conversation in the hospital while Luke was still there."

"Mr. Davies. Funny seeing you here." The officer looks annoyed at the man's presence, which makes my nerves tingle with apprehension.

Davies tilts his head at the cop, pinning him with a stare.

"I'm Mr. Shaw's attorney, and I'm exceedingly familiar with the Cobras" activities in town. I'll be assisting Dr. Stewart in any way I can."

"You will?"

My eyes flare wide, and then I glance over at Luke, narrowing my eyes at him.

Luke steps closer, keeping his voice low. "He's a family friend. I've known him since I was in the service."

So, I was right.

"All right, well—" I look between Mr. Davies and the cop, who's still eyeing him hard "—can I go back inside? I'd really like to, well, you know, relax after all this."

The officer shakes his head. "We still need more time to collect evidence. CSU is on the way, but you should be able to return this evening. After a few hours."

"CSU? My apartment is being treated like a crime scene?"

The guy nods. "There was a crime committed in it, so yes."

"That means it could be off-limits for days," I grumble, my head falling back. "What am I supposed to do till then? I have to work and presumably sleep at some point."

Before the cop can answer, Mr. Davies speaks up. "Additionally, can you have a patrol stationed outside her apartment for at least this evening if she is going to be able to return?"

"We can arrange something, but I'm not sure how long the department can spare officers."

Mr. Davies glares harder at the authorities, and I'm about to speak again when the guy pipes up.

"We're not the metro, Davies. We don't have the manpower that the city does."

"That's no excuse, and you know it." The venom in Mr. Davies's voice is enough to make me recoil a little.

Then, Luke is suddenly between the two of them, and my frustration ticks up. This is so aggravating!

"Unacceptable. She's clearly not safe here. The Crimson Cobras have her location. She?—"

"Is very capable of speaking for herself."

I raise my brows at all of them, not backing down. The gentlemen, and I'm using that term loosely right now, stop arguing and look over at me.

"I'm fine. I don't need a squad car out front. I'll just go to a hotel or something. But I need to get my wallet and my clothes from inside. Can I at least come back in the morning without issue?"

"Of course." The officer nods. "That should be fine."

"Clara." Luke pulls my attention, stepping in front of me. "You can't stay here, and you're not about to stay at some shitty motel. It won't be safe. Cam, back me up."

He eyes his friend, and I put it together that this must be Cameron Davies.

He's a lawyer here in town who has requested information from the hospital—a lot—and he's even garnered a reputation there for how stalwart he can be.

"I don't recommend staying at your place, Dr. Stewart, and a hotel might not be any better. The Cobra are a powerful group. I assure you, they mean business."

"He's right."

We all turn to see the other cop who I spoke to before joining the conversation.

"I just ran their information, and the Crimson Cobras have been a huge problem in town."

Luke gestures at him with a see, I told you expression on his face.

"It is absolutely not safe to stay at your current location."

He hands a notepad to his fellow officer who reads it over, his eyes flaring. "And I wouldn't suggest a motel. Their security can be lax. It wouldn't be unusual for the desk clerk to just be taken out or paid off."

My stomach drops into my feet as the officer drops that bomb.

"Taken out?"

The man nods. "I wouldn't put it past them. They have no problem with executing innocent people."

My pulse is accelerating again, and I know panic is very near the surface. I feel trapped, and I never handle that well.

A pang radiates through me as I remember the closet in my aunt and uncle's house.

"She's definitely got somewhere else she can stay. A place with very good security," Luke offers, staring at me and not the cop. "If she'll just fucking take the offer already."

I sigh, fatigue winning out over the impending freak-out.

You've got to be kidding me. I'm actually supposed to stay with Luke? That is a bad idea.