Bull and Caz had often told stories about their brawling. Bull won by sheer size alone, Caz was never without a knife, Hawk was a berserker. In spite of their talents, they said Gabe won most of the fights because he was just that good of a fighter. She’d seen the efficient way he’d taken Knox down—and how unworried Bull had been.

She frowned. “Were you attacked by more than one?”

After a sip of beer, he eyed her. “Why do you ask?”

“I’m not stupid. I bet you wouldn’t be this hurt if you’d fought only one man. How many were there?”

When he didn’t answer, she tilted her chin up. He wouldn’t win this argument.

“Five.”

No way. She stared at him in mingled awe and horror. Five.

He laughed ruefully. “I’m not Chuck Norris, Goldilocks. I did all right with three, might have managed the fourth. It’s good Caz was still in the clinic and heard the noise.”

Heard the noise. This hadn’t been a bar fight. “Where did this happen?”

“Behind the station. They’d been flattened up against the back of the building so they could ambush me.” His mouth thinned. “I’ll be more careful. And I’ll put up a mirror so I can see what’s out there.”

“Caz joined the fight?”

“In a way. He stood in the doorway and took one out with a knife. He insists the reason he throws knives is because medics shouldn’t risk damaging their hands. Sure it is.”

Audrey tilted her head. “The reason sounds logical to me.”

“Except that he started pitching knives when he was around ten.”

Throwing sharp knives at that age? What had Mako been thinking? But, he’d taught his boys how to fight, and thank God for that.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips. Her heart seemed to have crammed into her throat, and she forced her voice to stay light. “The traditional saying is ‘you should see the other guy,’ How bad are the five other guys?”

Gabe set his beer down, pulled her against his side, and leaned his head against the couch back. “One got Caz’s blade in his back. One has a knee that’ll need surgery, same with another bastard’s elbow. The other two just have bruises.”

She put a hint of amusement into her words. “Oh, well, that’s not so bad.”

And then she swallowed against the bile trying to rise. Don’t throw up, don’t throw up.

Hours later, Gabe woke in bed. He was lying on his back, Audrey snuggled against his side. The cool night air from the lake ruffled the bedroom curtains and revealed the twilight glow. It must be sometime between midnight and 4 a.m.