The Old Man's Back in Town by Ann Charles Read Free Book Online Page A

diamond-studded …
    Wait a second! Hospital bed?
    My gaze darted around the shadow-filled room, taking in the half-eaten Jell-O on the tray next to me, the needle jammed into my arm, the little winged pigs covering my cotton gown, the bandage on my left shoulder, and the toilet with handles through the half-open bathroom door.
    The sound of a half-snore followed by a grunt brought my focus back to the dark-haired man who slept leaning partway across the right side of my bed, using my hip as a makeshift cushion. Joel’s wavy black hair shielded one of his eyes, his jaw was covered with at least two days’ worth of stubble.
    I reached down with my right arm and sank my fingers into his hair, lifting his head up a couple of inches.
    One emerald green eye opened, then the other.
    I let go of his hair. “Wake up and tell me I killed the bastard,” I said, my voice hoarse from lack of use.
    “Sorry, Shooter. You missed.” He stood and stretched. His gaze traveled over my face, assessing.
    “Water?” I asked.
    He grabbed a pitcher from the tray and poured some in a cup, holding me up while I drank and drank.
    With his help, I sank back into the pillow, wincing from a bolt of pain in my shoulder. “Did I even come close?”
    “No. I did, though.” He sat on the bed, leaning over me. His fingers traced my face, like he was memorizing every bump and hollow. “He won’t be bothering you ever again.”
    “Damn it, Joel. That was supposed to give me closure after the years of hell he put me through.”
    “Well, if it makes you feel any better, you did blow a hole in the jukebox.”
    “What about Buffalo?”
    He scooted closer. “He has a broken arm from tackling your ex.”
    “Before you shot him?”
    “After.”
    “Brunhilda?”
    “Fat and happy, as usual.”
    “You?”
    “Fit as a fiddle.” He squeezed my hand. “You, on the other hand, had a bullet leave a groove in the left side of your skull and another rip a hole through the meat on the outside of your left shoulder. Do you remember anything from that night?”
    I thought about the dream that had kept replaying in my head, the details all blurred together. “I remember blood. A lot of blood.”
    “Head wounds are like that. You had to get staples.”
    That explained the throbbing on that side of my head. “I remember sex in my office.”
    He grinned wide. “You rode me like a rodeo queen. I’m going to need a repeat of that. I’m thinking chaps and a thong, maybe some tassels and spurs.”
    “Okay,” I licked my dry lips. “But what am I gonna wear?”
    He laughed, leaning down to kiss my nose. “What else do you remember, sweetheart?”
    “Hitting my head.”
    “You nearly cracked the bar with your thick skull when you fell. The lump blossomed into a pretty purple bruise.”
    “How long have I been out?”
    “Two days after the ambulance ride here. At first they kept you out in order to get you all patched up. Then you went in and out of consciousness thanks to the pain meds, but mostly out.”
    “Where’s here?”
    “The regional hospital in Cottontop Flats.”
    “My dad?”
    “He’s resting at a hotel nearby.”
    I closed my eyes for a moment, something niggling at my memory of it all. “I remember you telling someone to freeze.”
    “Your ex wasn’t alone. His girlfriend snuck in the back door. She took off when I drew on her. Rick tracked her down, found her hiding in the boarded up old high school, and locked her up. She’s going to go away for a long time.”
    I reached up and touched the left side of my head, grimacing as I brushed over the staples and shaved hair. “I tripped over that damned dog.”
    “That ‘damned dog’ probably saved your life. You should have seen all of the bullet holes in the bar.”
    “Buffalo will probably want to have a parade for his heroic mutt.”
    Joel’s smile flat-lined. “You scared me on the ride here, Shooter. With all of that blood you lost, I was afraid you wouldn’t come back to