The tension left her body in one exhalation. “No more skulking around dark alleys alone?”

“No.”

The doors opened. She leaned on his shoulder as they walked arm in arm to the exit. Despite her clear exhaustion, her pallor, her distress, he absorbed strength from her embrace.

Outside, they walked to her vehicle. Mac took her keys and then drove out of the parking lot. “Do you want to go home?”

Stella held her hands out and looked down at her clothes as if just realizing she was covered in dried blood. “Not like this. I’ll scare the kids. Where’s your bike?”

“I came with Grant.” Mac drove to his cabin, where he took her into the bedroom. Piling clean towels next to the sink, he began undressing her with efficiency. No pausing to enjoy the show this time. He wanted to inspect every inch of her skin for wounds. Adrenaline was almost as good as lidocaine for numbing injuries.

She stared at the opposite wall, her eyes vacant as he peeled off her blouse. Red patches blooming on her skin would probably be bruises tomorrow. But no bullet holes. Unzipping her slacks, he slid them down her legs. A trickle of red ran from her ankle into her shoe. “You’re bleeding.”

“I didn’t feel that.” Her brow knitted.

Mac knelt to inspect her foot. An inch long splinter of wood was embedded in the soft skin just above her ankle. “This is going to hurt if I pull it out. Do you want me to run you back to the hospital?”

“No. Just do it.”

“You’d better sit down.” Guiding her to the edge of the tub, he reached under the sink for his first aid kit. The wound was shallow but it was going to bleed when he removed the chunk of wood. He guided her foot over the edge of the tub and put on the surgical gloves from the kit. “Are you sure?”

She nodded.

Mac gripped the edge of the splinter and tugged it free in one pull. Breath hissed from Stella’s lips and her face went as white as the porcelain sink. “Now it hurts.”

He’d rather have a hundred chunks of wood dug out of his own skin than ever see her in pain again. Blood rushed from the wound. Mac let it flow for a minute to flush any dirt from the wound.

“If the bleeding doesn’t stop, we might have to get it closed with a stitch.” He started the water in the tub. When it ran warm, he guided her foot under the stream and cleaned the injury with soap and water.

“Can I just get in the shower?”

“Of course.” Mac yanked the curtain across and switched the water to the overhead spray.

Stella unsnapped her bra, shimmied out of her panties, and with Mac’s help, stepped into the shower.

“Do you need help?”

“No.”