“No,” Riley gasped. “Please don’t. I’m fine. He’ll go.”

Amy looked through the back door window, mouth gaping in surprise. The back stoop was empty. “You’re right, he’s gone.”

“Told you,” Riley whispered.

“Who’s gone?” Jan asked.

Amy ripped open the back door and stared in shock at the spot where there’d been a body only a moment before. She whipped around and looked at Riley.

Riley lifted a shoulder.

“You knew him,” Amy said, once again shutting and locking the door.

“He was just some guy.”

“No, you knew him. You called him Troy. He said you owed him.”

“Just a misunderstanding,” Riley said, staring out the window into the night. She’d gathered her wits quickly.

Amy supposed she’d learned how to do that the hard way. “Riley—”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Don’t sweat it? He was attacking you.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Riley insisted, then paused. “He’s my stepbrother.”

“What?”

“Yeah, um, thanks for the help back there but I’ve gotta go.”

“No. Riley—”

But Riley had unlocked and unbolted the door and hightailed it into the night. Amy swore and helped herself to Jan’s purse hanging on a hook.

“Hey,” Jan said.

Amy pulled out the pepper spray she’d known that Jan carried, waving it. “Borrowing this!” she said, then went outside after Riley, pepper spray at the ready in her hand in case Troy showed up again. She had a pounding headache and a nagging side ache to boot, which made no sense, but there was no Troy.

And no Riley either. She was gone.

Completely gone.

Hoping she’d show up at home, Amy went there first.

No Riley. Teeth gritted, she grabbed her flashlight and went back out into the night, heading to the forest.

No Riley there either.

Tired, hurting, terrified for Riley, Amy finally gave up and went back to her apartment, hoping against hope the girl had miraculously shown up.

But it wasn’t Riley she found on her doorstep. When the unexpected shadow rose, tall and built, moving toward her, she gasped in terror.

“Just me,” Matt said, stepping under the light. His gaze was steady and his expression solemn, not so much as a glimmer of a smile on his usually good-humored, affable face.

Amy drew a deep breath to deal, but suddenly her vision swam, then shrank to a pinpoint. From what seemed like a great distance, she heard Matt call her name. She opened her mouth to answer, but couldn’t.

Odd.

Odder still was that her bones seemed to dissolve. Matt grabbed her just as she would have fallen. She blinked and then pushed at him, but he completely ignored her struggles and held on.

“I’m okay,” she said.

“You just about passed out.”

“I’m fine now.” She shook her head to clear it. “It was nothing. Why are you here?”

“Because I’m an ass,” he said. “And bullshit, it was nothing. Something scared you nearly into a faint.”

“I don’t faint. But you almost got a face full of pepper spray.” She tugged free, and this time he let her go, reluctantly.

“Why are you wet?” he asked, looking at his hand before going utterly still. “Amy, you’re bleeding.”

“What? No, I’m—” She stared down at her sweater, which had a growing dark patch, making it cling to her side. “Huh.” She gulped in a panicked breath and nearly passed out again, but Matt’s hands were back on her, utter steel.

Her anchor.

“I’ve got you,” he said, nudging her down to the step, lifting her sweater. They both looked at the two-inch-long gash on her side.

“Look at that,” she said weakly. “He got me.”

Matt yanked his own shirt over his head and turned it inside out before gently pressing it against her side. “He who?”

“Actually, I think it was the bottle,” she said. “It broke, and I must have rolled on it.”

“What bottle? Amy, stay with me.”

She struggled to do just that, but the pain of the cut was hitting her now, stealing her breath. “Riley used a bottle to hit her stepbrother over the head. It broke, and I rolled away from him but…” More old memories surfaced. Her stepfather’s footsteps coming down the hallway toward her bedroom. You owe me, Amy. You owe me big… Yeah. She knew exactly what Troy had wanted from Riley. Amy had escaped her own nightmare before it’d come to fruition by being strong and mean. She hoped Riley had escaped as well, but she was having her doubts.

“Amy.” Cupping her face, Matt made her look at him. “Keep your eyes open.” He spoke evenly, his voice remarkably matter-of-fact, as if he might be inquiring about the weather. She found the simple tone incredibly steadying.

“Riley’s brother,” he said. “That’s who attacked you?”

“No, he attacked Riley. I attacked him.”

He drew a breath and squeezed her hand very gently. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I don’t think so.”

He nodded, then ran his hands over her body himself, checking to make sure before lifting her in his arms and carrying her toward his truck.

“Where are we going?”

“The ER. You need a few stitches.”

“What?” Adrenaline surged. So did panic. She hated doctors. Hated hospitals. “No. I want to try to find Riley.”

He didn’t slow down.

“Matt, no. No hospital.”

“No would normally work on me,” he said. “But not this time.”

“I—”

“Nonnegotiable, Amy.”

Matt carefully buckled Amy into his truck and jogged around to the driver’s seat, simultaneously calling Josh. By luck, Josh was at the ER and promised to be waiting for them.

Matt had been on an untold number of search-and-rescue calls and highway patrol assists, not to mention all he’d seen and done as a SWAT cop in Chicago.

But Amy bleeding undid him.

She undid him. Completely. He hadn’t wanted to get involved in a relationship with her, but given his current accelerated heart rate, he’d done exactly that. For so long he’d blamed himself for his failed marriage, which had allowed him to easily keep his distance from other women.

And then Amy had walked right past all his brick walls. What was it about her?

“I don’t need stitches,” she said for the tenth time.

He turned to glance at her as he pulled out of her parking lot, but the interior of the truck was too dark.

“I don’t,” she said firmly, but her voice trembled, giving her away.

“Did you know that Riley had a brother?” he asked, hoping to distract her because they were going to the ER.

“Stepbrother,” she said. “And no, I didn’t know.”

“What did he want?”

“Riley,” she said grimly. “He had her pinned to the wall. I yelled at him, trying to get his attention off of her and onto me instead.”

Jesus. “And that’s when he cut you.”

“No. I was backing away from him and tripped. He was on me before I could blink, and that’s when Riley came after him with a bottle. Knocked him out.” She shook her head. “I dragged us into the diner to call the police, but then Troy vanished. And so did Riley. I ended up at home, and you were there. Why were you there again?”

Good question. He’d felt like such a complete dickwad about how he’d acted earlier. He had no excuse, none, and he’d come to her place to apologize. “Did he touch you? Did he—”

“I’m fine. I just want to go home.”

“Soon.” He pulled into the ER. Josh met them as promised. Mallory was there as well, in her scrubs, ready with a warm hug and a calm, steady smile as she got Amy settled into a cubicle and prepped for stitches.

Josh examined the wound. “Nicely done, Champ. What happened?”

Amy was shaking. The pain and shock had hit her. “Had a fight with a broken bottle,” she said.

Josh tsked. “Hate that.” He nudged Matt out of his way, then sat on the stool at Amy’s side. “I have a few questions. Want me to kick out the brooding ranger first?”

Amy’s eyes slid to Matt, who did his best to look like a piece of equipment. A very necessary piece of equipment. Amy shook her head. “No. He can stay.”

Which was good, since he wasn’t going anywhere.

Josh shooed him around to the opposite side of Amy’s bed, where he could take her hand and be the moral support team. Mallory stayed next to Josh, behind the instrument tray, ready to assist.

“So who was wielding the bottle?” Josh asked.

“Riley,” Amy said, and rubbed her temples. “But it wasn’t her fault. She was fighting off her stepbrother.”

“He touch you? You hurt anywhere else?”

“No.”

Josh ran a gentle finger over her cheek, where a small bruise was forming. “What’s this from?”

“I don’t know. Maybe from when I fell. I’m not sure.”

Josh nodded, not taking his eyes off hers. “Sometimes a victim doesn’t like to talk about what happened to them, but—”

“Nothing happened.” Amy met first Mallory’s concerned gaze, and then Matt’s, before looking back at Josh. “Really. Riley knocked him out, and he vanished before I could call the police. The end.”

“Did you call the police afterward?” Josh asked.

“I never got a chance to make the call. Troy vanished, and then I was with Riley…”

“That’s okay,” Josh said. “You’ve got a law enforcement officer right here.” He gestured to Matt.

Amy turned her head and looked up at him. He nodded, stroking the hair back from her face. “We’ll make a report,” he said. “Then find Riley. Okay?”

She hesitated, her gaze searching his, then slowly, she nodded.

“Stitches first,” Josh said.

“I’m not good at stitches,” Amy said.

Josh smiled. “That’s okay. I am.”

“This is true,” Mallory assured her. “He’s the best.”

Josh was examining the wound closely. Looks like maybe five to six stitches total. Won’t leave much of a scar.”

“Can’t you just glue it or something?” Amy asked.

“Not this time,” Josh said. “But I’ll be quick, and you’ll be nice and numbed up, no worries.” From out of Amy’s range of sight, he reached for a fat needle and nodded to Matt.

Matt bent low and brushed his lips over Amy’s temple, palming her jaw to keep her face turned to him and not at what Josh was doing. “Hey, Tough Girl.”

“Hey back. This sucks,” she said, wincing when Josh began to numb her. “This sucks golf balls.”

“It’ll be over before you know it,” Josh promised. “That’s how good I am.”

Amy grimaced again but said nothing as he continued to work.

Matt did his part to keep her attention off the needle, stroking a finger over a small scar bisecting her eyebrow. “This one looks interesting. How did you get it?”

Amy let out a shaky breath. “When I was seventeen, I stole my boyfriend’s brand-new bike to get to work, then crashed it.”

Josh chuckled, his big fingers working quickly, efficiently. “If I’d been around back then, you wouldn’t still have the scar.”

“Cocky.”

“Just very good,” he said. “Keep looking at pretty boy there.”

Matt slid Josh a look, which Josh ignored with a smirk.

“Check out his chin,” Josh said to Amy. “Two years ago, Matt fell at the South Rim. It was a pu**y climb, too. Luckily for him, I was right there. He dislocated his shoulder and cut up his face. I fixed him up so that he can still be a cover model any time he wants.”

Amy laughed softly. “Cover model?”

Matt opened his mouth but Josh beat him to it. “He made the cover of Northwest Forestry last year. You probably missed that issue, but the nurses here have it hanging in their break room.” Josh was smiling as he told this story, and if he hadn’t been wielding the needle with smooth dexterity while he was at it, Matt might have been tempted to shut his mouth for him.

“You’re doing great, Amy,” Josh said. “Three stitches in, only a couple more to go.”

When he’d finished, he helped her upright, gave her some prescriptions, and then was paged away.

“You okay?” Matt asked her.

She nodded. “I’m good to go.”

Impressed with her toughness, he slid an arm around her. “I’ll take you home. I want to talk to Riley.”

Amy went still for a beat, then did a forced relax thing that had Matt taking a second look at her. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

He shouldn’t care that she didn’t trust him. It shouldn’t matter. He hadn’t wanted her to trust him, hadn’t needed her to trust him, because this wasn’t going to be a relationship. But apparently he’d finally gotten over himself and could face the fact that he was ready to move on from the past. Because for the first time in recent memory, he wanted to be trusted. By her.

Amy was definitely not on her A-game, which was the only explanation she had for walking right into a trap of her own making. Riley wasn’t staying with her. Riley wasn’t going to show up to sleep at her apartment tonight. Which Matt didn’t know because Amy had lied to him. She’d known this would happen, that it would come back and bite her in the ass. She needed to think, but the problem with that was her brain wasn’t in gear.