“What happened to him?” she asked, wiping his bruised face with a damp washcloth.
“I don’t know exactly,” I admitted. “I wasn’t there.”
“Well, his nose is broken. That’s for certain.” Gently, she prodded the area around Wes’s nose. “It looks like he reset it himself. Smart boy.”
“And the giant lump on the back of his head?” My pulse pounded as Eileen maneuvered Wes’s head to one side for a better look. “He passed out in the car for a few minutes or so. What if he has serious head trauma?”
“He’s pretty beaten up,” she agreed as she placed an ice pack at the base of Wes’s neck. “But all in all, he’s held up pretty well. You said these injuries likely happened yesterday morning?”
I nodded.
“My guess is the stress finally caught up with his body,” she said, laying a second, smaller ice pack across the bridge of Wes’s ruined nose. “If his concussion had been more serious, he would probably have remained unconscious at the time of the injury. His pupils aren’t blown either, and he hasn’t had any seizures. He most likely just needs time to recover.”
My attention to Eileen’s diagnoses wavered as Wes’s eyes flickered open. I leaned over him, smoothing his hair with cautious fingers. “Hey,” I said, smiling.
“Hey,” he mumbled back.
“You scared the crap out of me back there.”
A hint of a smile appeared on his lips. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. Where are we?”
“At O’Connor’s house. This is his wife, Eileen.”
Eileen waved. “It’s nice to meet you, Weston.”
“You too. I’m sorry about your husband.”
“Thank you.”
Wes turned his attention back to me. “Are we sleeping here? Can I sleep?”
I glanced at Eileen for confirmation.
“You’re more than welcome to stay here,” she said, wiping a droplet of dried blood from behind Wes’s ear. “And yes, you can sleep, but I think I’ll assign Nicole here to wake you up every few hours just in case. Here, take these.”
I helped prop Wes up against the pillows of the sofa so that he could easily swallow the painkillers Eileen had offered him. After coaxing a few sips of water down his throat, we let him lay back down.
“If you both are comfortable, I’ll go back to bed,” said Eileen as she gathered up her first-aid supplies. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. The bathroom is down the hall. There are clean towels in the linen closet. And feel free to raid the refrigerator if you like.”
I took Eileen’s hands in my own, hoping to convey the amount of gratitude I felt. “Thank you, Eileen. I owe you so much.”
“Oh, nonsense.”
I stood up and stretched then helped clean up the rest of the bloodied gauze we had used to mop up Wes’s face. I followed her into the kitchen to dispose of the used supplies in the garbage can, but as we parted at the bottom of the stairs, I asked Eileen for one more favor.
“Eileen, would it be okay if I pulled my car into your garage?” I asked. She paused on the top step, clutching the banister for support. “I don’t want someone to recognize it and storm the house.”
“Is that a possibility?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“The garage is full of George’s things,” she said with a sigh. “I nagged him constantly to clean it out, but you know how husbands are. You can pull your car around to the side of the house. It’s dark there, and the trees in the side yard will prevent anyone from seeing your car from the street.”
“Okay. Eileen?”
“Yes, Nicole.”
“Thanks again.”
She smiled down at me, and my heart swelled in my chest. It had been too long since I had had a motherly figure in my life. Though Eileen had just begun to comfort us, I appreciated her so much more than she could ever know.
“When I told you earlier that you would have a safe place to land here, I meant it,” said Eileen. “Get some sleep, honey. Tomorrow, we can work on getting you both safely out of the area. And don’t forget to lock up when you come back inside.”
With that, she retreated to her bedroom on the second floor. Reassured, I grabbed the keys to Lauren’s sedan, glanced into the living room to make sure Wes hadn’t moved, and headed outside.
On Eileen’s front porch, I paused just long enough to survey the yard for any disturbances. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had been followed from the parking garage. The Raptors had years of experience in stalking their prey. I felt like a helpless field mouse in Flynn’s relentless beak. As I crossed the crunchy, brown grass, swinging Lauren’s key ring around my index finger, the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
“Nicole Costello?”
I whirled around at the unexpected voice. A man had emerged from the shadows of the trees in the side yard, but I didn’t bother to get a better look at him. Instead, I made a panicked running start for the house. When he realized what I was doing, he leapt into action. He lunged forward like a bullet and closed in on me just as I reached the porch steps. My feet swept out from under me. He had wrapped his arms around my waist, dragging me down to the cold, damp grass. His weight immobilized the bottom half of my body, but I managed to free my hands. I grabbed his head, pressing my thumbs to his eyes with every intention of doing whatever I had to do in order to free myself.
“I don’t want to hurt you!” he insisted, and with a grunt, he heaved himself far enough away from me to dislodge my threatening fingers.
