Cruel (The Buck Boys Heroes 2)

Those are words that haven’t left her lips in years. Margot rarely cries. She’s stoic and strong, and when disaster strikes, she’s always the first to approach the issue with a level head.

This is different, though. The spots of blood that are staining the front of my blouse prove that I was injured at some since she last saw me.

I didn’t tell her that on the phone.

I wouldn’t have told her anything, but the doctor who examined me explained that I’d need someone to accompany me home.

The cut on my forehead wasn’t deep enough for stitches, and according to him, I don’t have a concussion, but the dizziness I experienced in the alley and again when I tried getting up from the stretcher was enough to concern him.

I called Margie then and told her I’d fallen and was at the hospital being checked to make sure that nothing was broken.

“What exactly happened?” she asks just as the doctor walks back into the room.

“Juliet is a crime fighting hero,” he blurts out.

Dr. Gavin Fuller may be good-looking and have a great bedside manner, but he’s terrible at upholding doctor-patient confidentiality. I saw him talking to the paramedics who brought me in.

“What?” Margot’s head snaps in his direction. “What are you talking about?”

The dark-haired doctor looks to me for guidance. Since he let the cat out of the bag, I try and shove it back in. “He’s making a joke.”

The serious look on his face doesn’t play into my charade, and it takes all of one second for my sister to notice that.

She turns her attention back to me. “Juliet. I want you to tell me right now what the hell happened.”

“Language,” I warn her with a smile. “There are children here, Margot. I saw them bring in a pregnant woman. She had her sweet little daughter with her. She stopped to talk to me in the waiting room.”

“You’re stalling,” my sister accuses. “Don’t do that.”

She’s right. I am stalling because telling Margot that I was mugged will send her back to California, and she’ll drag me with her.

“She stopped an assailant.” Dr. Fuller continues his quest to inject himself into our conversation. “She tied up a mugger with her scarf.”

What the fuck?

My gaze lands on him. “Doctor…”

“My cousin is a detective with the NYPD,” he explains to my sister. “He called me a few minutes ago to see how Juliet is doing. The man in the alley confessed to an attempted mugging. Juliet tied him up. She restrained him until the police arrived.”

Margot’s hand jumps to cover her mouth. “Oh my god.”

“She deserves a medal for catching one of the bad guys.” He shoots me a megawatt smile.

“Juliet.” Margot takes my hand. “You’re so brave.”

I want her to believe that. I want her to see that in me because I know she values courage more than almost anything else.

“What about the woman he mugged?” she questions me. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” Dr. Fuller answers. “She’ll be a little sore for a day or two and might sport a few bruises, but thankfully, her arm broke her fall, so she’s good. She’s really good.”

“I’m confused,” I confess to Dr. Fuller when Margot leaves the exam room to order an Uber.

“Confused as in you don’t know your name or…”

“Confused as in why didn’t you tell my sister the whole story?”

He offers a hand for me to slide off the exam table. “What part did I leave out?”

I take his hand to stand. “You know what part.”

“Do I?”

I look up at his face. “You do.”

“The paramedic explained what the mugger told him when he was checking him out for injuries.” He motions to my hands. “You tied him up with your scarf. You were hurt in that scuffle. My cousin backed that story up.”

“He did?”

“They got a full confession out of the guy at the police station,” he goes on, “I suspect you’re talking about the identity of the woman he accosted.”

I nod in silence.

“Your sister was scared,” he says quietly. “I was outside the room when she arrived. I heard the fear in her voice. I sense she’d take it a lot harder if she knew you were the woman he mugged.”

“She would.”

“It’s not my place to tell her that you defended yourself like a champ because he was trying to nab your purse.” He looks down at the tablet in his hands. “If and when you think she needs to know that, you’ll tell her, but that’s between the two of you.”

Still confused as to why he keeps saying I took down the mugger myself, I sigh.

“New York City is a great place.” He smiles. “A few assholes are lurking about, but for the most part, the rest of us are the cream of the crop. Do what you need to do to put this behind you. If you’d like to speak to someone about it, I can recommend one of the best.”