“I need more cops,” Matt said. “Ever since you foreigners came to town, I’ve been run off my feet.”
“You would be in a boredom coma without us,” Josh said.
“Good point.” Matt turned to his SUV. “Call if anything turns up.”
The men nodded then went back to watching Frank drive his stolen boat.
“What we need,” Josh said, “is some fries and a beer. Mitch, run over to the pub and get some takeaway.”
“Get it yourself,” Mitch said.
Matt shook his head with a grin as he climbed into his car. It was time to see his woman. As he drove, a plan began to form in his mind. He smiled wickedly as he flicked on the hands-free set for his phone. A couple of calls and it would all be in place.
“Where’s Matt?” Jena said when she came to.
Her head hurt. Her mouth felt like it had been washed out with sand and her eyeballs were scraped raw every time she blinked. It felt a lot like a hangover.
“He had to stay in Invertary and arrest Frank.” Heather, Matt’s mom, came into focus. She was smiling down at Jena.
Jena blinked, wincing at the scraping sensation. “
Where am I?”
“Hospital. Fort William,” one of the twins said as she grinned from the other side of the bed. “You broke a couple of bones when you were sucked underground by the explosion.”
The words made the memory rush back at Jena. She closed her eyes and groaned.
There was a smacking sound. “Good job, freakoid, you’ve upset her.” That had to be the other twin.
“Girls.” Heather used her mom voice, which was strangely reassuring. “One of you give Jena a drink of water and the other one fetch the nurse.”
A cup with a straw appeared in front of her face. She accepted it gratefully.
“Samuel, raise the bed,” Heather ordered.
The bed was promptly raised. Jena looked out of the corner of her eye to find Grunt grinning at her.
“Glad you’re alive,” he said.
“Thanks.” Jena shifted on her pillows, groaning at the ache in her side.
She looked down her body and took stock of the damage. Her ribs were strapped beneath the hospital-issue gown she was wearing. Her lower leg was in a bright pink fibreglass cast and her left hand was bandaged. She held up the hand. She didn’t remember that one.
“Nasty cut,” Heather said. “Same as your head.”
Jena reached up with her right hand and, sure enough, there was a dressing attached to her temple.
“Did they have to cut my hair?” Why she was concerned about her hair and not her broken bones she wasn’t sure, but it seemed the most important worry.
“No, dear, your hair is fine.” Heather patted her hand, and for a moment Jena felt as though she was being mothered. It was nice. Strange, but nice. It brought tears to her eyes. She worked hard to blink them away.
“It was nice of you to come,” she told them. “But you don’t need to stay. I’m sure Matt will be here when he’s finished knocking Frank into next week.”
“We’re staying,” Claire said. Jena knew it was Claire because she was sitting in Grunt’s lap.
“You’re a member of the family now,” Heather said.
Jena felt her bottom lip tremble. She felt stupid. Twenty-six years old and the thought of having a family made her insides turn to custard.