“Sure.” He was just damn glad she was alive. He held her tighter. “You never, ever jump at a man holding a gun again.”

“I couldn’t let him shoot you.”

Fuck. He’d been shot at a lot, even taken a bullet twice, not that he’d ever tell her, but what Harlow had done for him… It undid him.

“You see a gun, you run in the opposite direction.” He tipped her face up and kissed her. “Or I’ll spank your ass red.”

She gasped, and damn if she didn’t squirm a little.

Then she cupped the side of his face. “You’re bleeding.”

“Broken glass from the crash. “

“You’re all right?”

“Yeah.”

“My arm really does hurt,” she murmured.

“I know. I’ll get you to the hospital. You might need stitches.”

“No, I don’t want to go to the hospital. It’s just a nick.”

Now it was just a nick?

She glanced around. “I just want to go home. Be safe.”

“Baby, you need to see a doctor—”

“I hate hospitals, Easton.” She gripped him. “I hate them.”

He saw the fear in her eyes.

“Baby?”

“My mom had several bad miscarriages. We spent a lot of time there. And my grandmother died in the hospital. I just don’t like them.”

He tugged her closer.

“At the hospital…everything’s out of your control,” she whispered.

“Okay, baby. It’ll be all right.”

“Hunt incoming,” Vander said.

Easton watched as the unmarked police car pulled up. Hunt slid out, and strode toward them. He was in jeans and a black shirt with his badge on his belt.

He eyed the wrecked Aston, then looked at the men Rhys was standing over. One of them was bleeding from a gunshot wound.

“You guys okay?” Hunt asked.

“I got shot,” Harlow said.

Hunt’s face hardened, his green gaze going to where Easton held the coat on her arm.

Easton ran his tongue around his teeth. “Nicked.”

“A bad nick,” she added.

“Hence why we need to go the hospital.”

“No.” She leaned into him. “You have a big first aid kit at home. Please.” She kissed his jaw.

Shit. He was a goner.

“I’ll call Ryder,” Hunt said. “He isn’t working tonight and he’s in the city. He can be here quickly.”

Ryder Morgan was Hunt’s brother, who was a paramedic, and also donated his time at a free clinic in the Tenderloin.

Ryder had also been an Air Force combat medic, not to mention, Vander used him for off-the-books treatments, if any Norcross guys got banged up, and didn’t, or couldn’t, go to the hospital.

Easton nodded. “Thanks.”

Hunt made the call. Several police cruisers screeched to a halt. Hunt directed the uniforms to deal with crowd and traffic control.

“Guys over there likely belong to Rhoda Pierce.” Vander nodded at the kneeling men. “And Hugo Durant was here.”