Blue Colla Make Ya Holla (66 page)

Stan stopped a few feet away, his arms hanging at his sides. Nate glanced down and thought he saw something in the man’s hand that was half hidden behind his leg. This was not going to end well. He knew it in his gut. Taking a deep breath, he confronted Stan.

“You called for a tow truck?”

“I had to see you for myself. You stole my fiancée from me. I won’t stand for that, and I’m going to make you pay.” His voice had risen to a higher pitch toward the end as he spit the words out.

Nate held up his hands in appeasement. “I didn’t do anything but tow her car,” he lied.

“Oh right. That explains you both being practically naked this morning.”

“Man, she was drunk. Because of you. Because of your behavior. I drove her home. That’s all.” Nate ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not doing this. You’re wasting my time, and I have a job to do.” He turned on his heel to get back in his truck. Hearing movement behind him, he looked back to see something metal swinging through the air toward him. He didn’t have time to do more than duck and get his arm partway up, trying to ward off the blow.

Pain shot through his arm, and then it went completely numb. Stan shoved him, and Nate stumbled and fell to the pavement. His hip and shoulder stung where they caught his weight on the rough surface. Expecting a blow to his head, he raised his arm as best he could to protect himself. Instead, a kick landed on his now unprotected ribs.

Nate could barely breathe. Every inhale set his chest on fire. He tried to take shallow breaths as he fought to get to his feet. It was hard to control his body with an aching shoulder and hip, a numb arm, and pains in his chest. He was sure Stan wasn’t done and expected to get hit again at any moment. He couldn’t just lie here and wait to die.

As he finally managed to get his good arm to support him, he heard shouts. A car door slammed near his ear, and he shoved himself against the opposite car to avoid the tires of the Mercedes as they pulled past him.

In seconds, someone was at his side. The voices sounded muffled. He must have hit his head at some point. He started to shake his head, trying to clear it.

“Just hold still,” the man beside him said. “Somebody’s called an ambulance.”

“I’m okay,” Nate protested. He tried to push himself up once again, but none of his shaking limbs would support him, and he collapsed back down and leaned his head against the car. “Just give me a minute.” He had underestimated Stan. In fact, he seemed to have completely misread him. He knew Stan was a doctor. Who would have thought someone like that would resort to violence?

His thoughts circled round and round, never coming to any conclusions. Before he knew it, a Metro police officer and a paramedic stood before him. “Can you stand, sir?” the paramedic asked.

Blinking to focus, Nate replied, “Yeah, I think so.”

With a hand under his good arm, the paramedic helped him to his feet. Nate almost stumbled when he saw all the commotion around the gas station. A couple of police cars and a Nashville Fire Department ambulance jammed into the tiny parking lot, lights flashing. People crowded around near the building entrance and on the sidewalks on both sides of the streets.
All this for just a little fight,
he thought.

The paramedic sat him on the gurney and began to assess his condition. Nate answered his questions in a short, monotone voice. All he wanted to do was get away from everyone, go home, and put an ice pack on his ribs or something. This fuss was over nothing.

The four police officers had been questioning those who were witnesses. One of the officers, a short woman with dark hair, approached him.

“What’s your name, sir?”

“Nathan Whitmore”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

Nate started to recount the events until the point he recognized his attacker. He paused in his story.
Should I report Stan?
He didn’t even know the man’s last name.
What would this do to Joanne? Would Stan decide to retaliate? If he did, would he go after me or Joanne?
Deciding he’d rather err on the side of caution for Joanne’s sake, he skipped mentioning Stan’s name and the reason for his attack but continued with the rest of the tale.

The officer didn’t miss his omission. “You said you recognized him. What’s his name?”

Nate shook his head. “I’d rather not say. I don’t want to press charges or anything. Besides, I don’t even know his last name.”

“And what was the argument about?”

Nate shook his head again, refusing to involve Joanne. “It was just a personal misunderstanding.”

“Mr. Whitmore, we already have the witness reports. A couple of them heard most of your argument. We’d just like you to confirm it.”

“No, I can’t.” Nate started to scoot off the gurney, determined to leave.

The paramedic put a hand against his chest. He didn’t press hard, but Nate stopped moving. He didn’t have enough energy left to fight even that little bit of resistance. “Whoa, you’re not going anywhere.”

“I’m fine. I need to get back to work,” he insisted.

“You need to go to the hospital. Just let them take some x-rays and make sure nothing’s broken.”

Giving up, Nate sat back on the gurney. His head still felt stuffy, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything. He needed to call his boss. Someone would need to come get the tow truck, and Nate would need a ride home from the hospital. It was all just too much to think about. Especially on only a few hours of sleep. He just wanted to rest for a while, then everything would be fine, he was sure.

*

“JoJo.”

Joanne was finishing up the paperwork on a patient when she heard him say her name. She closed her eyes and took a deep, calming breath.
I’m not ever going to get rid of him, am I?
She turned to face Stan, crossing her arms across her chest.

Stan stood holding a bouquet of flowers, but Joanne ignored them. She was not going to accept gifts from him.
Why couldn’t he have brought me flowers when we were together?
He had always been kind and attentive, but never romantic. Honestly, it hadn’t bothered her then. But now, somehow it seemed a sign that their relationship hadn’t been as strong as she’d thought.

Her gaze traveled over her ex-fiancé, noting the clothing that was slightly askew, a streak of dirt on his hand, and the wide eyes. She’d never seem him like this, and she wondered what had gotten him upset.

“What do you want, Stan?”

“JoJo, I’m sorry I said those things this morning. I was drunk. I know that’s not an excuse, but I promise it won’t happen again.” He thrust the flowers toward her.

Joanne took a step back. “I don’t want your flowers or your apologies.”

Stan closed the distance between them until Joanne’s skin crawled. She couldn’t place the sensation, didn’t understand why she now felt this way around him.

“What do you want, then?” he pleaded.

Joanne stepped to the side, trying to get more distance between them. “I want you to leave me alone. Stan, how many times do I have to tell you—we are done. For good. Please. Just go away and let me live my life.”

Stan stood there, silent. Joanne glanced around, finally noticing a few of the other nurses pretending to do anything other than listen to their conversation. She knew she wouldn’t hear the end of the questions once Stan left. As much as she didn’t want to talk about it, she wanted Stan here even less. She had to get him to leave. Just as she was about to make another excuse, the emergency radio went off announcing the fire department was bringing in a patient.

Joanne jerked a thumb towards the ambulance entrance. “I have work to do.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, she just got busy with her duties prepping for the incoming patient. She didn’t watch, but she knew the minute Stan turned and left. Letting out a relieved breath, she focused on the ambulance that was already pulling up.

As the gurney came off ambulance, Joanne noticed the head of curly dark blond hair. Her gaze fell to the man’s face and recognition shot through her. Heart pounding in fear, she ran outside to meet the paramedics.

“Nate! What happened?” she questioned him while she checked him out for herself, making sure nothing was seriously wrong. She’d heard the radio report, but when she realized he was the patient, she had to see with her own eyes that he was okay.

He took her hand and squeezed, which reassured her a little bit. “I’m fine. Just a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?” she echoed, incredulous. Her eyebrows rose as he shifted on the gurney and grimaced in pain.

“Yeah. The other guy wanted to argue and I didn’t. A misunderstanding.” Nate had already decided he was not going to tell Joanne what had happened. He had no fight with Stan, and there was no need to make him look even worse in Joanne’s eyes. He hadn’t expected to show up at her hospital though. He’d just have to tell her as little as possible.

Joanne pointed the EMS team to the prepped room and helped Nate off of the gurney and onto the hospital bed. “I’ll be back in a second,” she told him before following the paramedics out to the hallway.

“Do you know what happened?” she asked one of the paramedics as another nurse signed off on the patient transfer.

“Some guy hit him with a tire iron and kicked him when he went down. It sounded personal to me. You know him?” The paramedic nodded his head toward the room where Nate lay.

“Yeah. I do.”

“Know who would want to hurt him?”

Joanne thought for only a moment before she made the connection. Sighing, she replied, “Yeah, probably.” She looked around the emergency department, noting that Stan had indeed left. The flowers he’d tried to give her lay in disarray on the desk, forgotten in the rush of an incoming patient. He’d been standing in front of her like everything was normal, yet he must have just come from the fight with Nate.
What had he been hoping to accomplish? Had his intention been to simply scare Nate away, or had he meant to kill him?
Joanne shuddered at the thought of what he could have done.

“Then you might want to talk to the police ’cause your friend won’t,” the paramedic continued.

Drawn from her own thoughts, Joanne couldn’t follow the conversation she’d been having. “Wait, what do you mean?”

“Mr. Whitmore refused to tell the police who attacked him. If you want anything done, you’ll need to give the police a suspect,” the paramedic explained.

“Thanks for the advice.” The other nurse handed the tablet computer back to him, and Joanne headed back to check on Nate.

The doctor was just finishing his examination when she entered the room. “I don’t think anything’s broken, but let’s get x-rays to make sure.” The doctor wrote down his orders and handed them to another nurse to get the x-rays scheduled as he left.

Joanne approached Nate slowly.
Why didn’t he tell me Stan had attacked him? Why didn’t he tell the police? Would he even want to be around me after this? I’ve caused him so much trouble already. Surely this will be the last straw.
But he smiled at her before he spoke, and the tension in Joanne’s chest eased.

“You know, I thought about running over here just to see you today. I didn’t expect to be hauled over in an ambulance.”

Joanne smiled at his attempt at humor, but she didn’t laugh. She was still concerned about Stan and any threat he might pose. “You wanna tell me what happened now?” she asked him gently.

Nate glanced into her serious eyes before dropping his gaze to his filthy clothes. He couldn’t look in her eyes and lie to her. Not that he planned on lying. But even a half-truth felt wrong with her. “I told you,” he said. “I was dispatched out to help a driver. I got there and the guy wanted to argue. I started to walk away and he attacked me.”

Joanne stood in silence for a few seconds. When Nate refused to say anything more, she put a hand on his leg. “Nate. I know who it was. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell the police?” Hurt seeped through her voice until it cracked.

Nate’s eyes rose to find hers.
How did she find out?
he wondered. It couldn’t have been from Stan, or she wouldn’t have been so shocked to see him come in. He watched as she blinked back tears.
Is she crying for me or for Stan?

“Nate?” Her voice was barely a whisper and trembled on that single word.

Nate rubbed the hand of his uninjured arm over his eyes. What could he tell her? There was no good that could come out of this. “It wasn’t worth it. It would be his word against mine, and he’s a damn doctor. And I didn’t want to drag you in the middle of something that might get messy.”

“I’m already in the middle of it!” Joanne protested.

“I didn’t ask to be brought to your hospital,” Nate erupted.

Joanne took a step away from the bed in shock. She’d never heard Nate get angry before. Granted, she’d only known him a few days. It just seemed so against his character.
Maybe it’s the pain he’s in
, she rationalized. Chin trembling, she lifted her head in defiance. “I was in the middle of it anyway. This is because of me, isn’t it?” Nate opened his mouth, but before he could get a sound out, Joanne interrupted him. “Don’t even tell me it’s not. I may be blonde, but I’m not stupid, Nate Whitmore.”