She wanted to reassure herself that he was truly okay.

But if she showed too much concern, if Rowdy realized how much she actually cared, would he push her away? So many times she’d seen him hook up with a woman and then the next day he’d give her his friendly but distant smile, the smile that said we’re done.

She couldn’t bear the idea of getting that smile from him. But neither could she keep the words contained. Leaning against his shoulder, Avery whispered, “God, Rowdy, you scared me half to death.”

“Sorry.” He looked out the window at the dark night. “You shouldn’t have been watching.”

And if she hadn’t been, if Cannon hadn’t shown up or if that knife had stabbed him as intended, he could have died in the back of the bar with no one knowing. Those two evil cretins might have dragged his body away and...

Breath catching, hands holding his rock-solid biceps, Avery turned her face into him. He was here now, alive and well if a little bloodied. How many more fights would she have to witness?

And why did he want to fight so much anyway? She should introduce him to the tried-and-true method of conversation.

Rowdy slipped an arm around her. “Relax, babe.” And then with morbid humor, “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

Logan glanced at them in the rearview mirror. “He really is fine, you know. I don’t want to stoke his already healthy ego, but he has a few good moves.”

This time Rowdy snorted, probably at the way Logan underplayed his ability.

“I know.” Avery couldn’t help but wonder what type of life had given him those skills. She recalled how he’d reacted to seeing Marcus—and her blasted heart cracked in two. She tucked her face in more, not wanting him to see her.

With a gentle touch, Rowdy smoothed his fingertips over her temple. “Where I grew up, you lost more than your lunch money if you couldn’t hold your own. Fighting isn’t a big deal for me, so don’t sweat it, okay?”

Not a big deal, and yet he’d looked so different after seeing the boy, devastated in a way no man should ever be.

She desperately needed to know why.

Even without a shirt, Rowdy felt wonderfully warm. She got as close as she could to steal some of his heat. “When Darrell mentioned that he had his son with him, I understood.”

“I know you did, and I appreciate it.”

He appreciated it? She straightened up and frowned. “What does that mean?”

“You handled it well. Did the right thing by calling Logan and getting Marcus inside.”

Dubious, Avery said, “Well, it didn’t take a genius to pick up the clues.”

“It’s called situational awareness, and not everyone has it.” He shifted. “Not everyone would have reacted, either.”

Avery couldn’t believe that. “Only a true monster would ignore something so blatant.”

He laughed with grim sarcasm. “If you say so.” And then, going serious again: “Give Ella a call and see what’s happening with the kid, will you?”

Logan replied before Avery could. “The social worker I called will keep me informed. I know him. He’s a good guy who really cares.”

Avery could tell that Rowdy didn’t like it, but he accepted that this was out of his control. The rest of the twenty-minute trip was made in painful silence.

Just as Logan pulled up to the emergency room doors, his phone beeped with an incoming message. He put the car in Park and read the text.

We sent a unit by Darrell’s place. No other kids.

Rowdy had suggested that they check, only to have Logan tell him it was routine to do so. Knowing he had a younger sister—a sister Logan had married—gave Avery more insight into how Rowdy thought about things, and why.

“They found the mom,” Logan added. “She was coked out of her head, unresponsive. Possible OD. They took her to the hospital.”

Rowdy shoved his door open and stalked from the car. Avery slid out of the seat behind him. Given the blood on his body, he drew immediate attention but didn’t appear to care.

Knowing he hurt in ways far worse than from a knife wound, she wished she could console him. “Rowdy?”

He paused, his back to her.

“Wait for me, please.” She caught up, stepping in front of him to once again arrange the jacket over his wide shoulders. She had to stretch up to reach, and Rowdy held her waist, patiently letting her fuss.

Logan turned his car over to the valet parking and joined them. “They’ll have questions for me on how this happened, so try to look more like a victim and less like a pissed-off marauder, will you?”

If anything, that only darkened Rowdy’s countenance more. He exuded menace, sending others to walk a wide path around him.

He entered the emergency room on his own steam, but Avery wouldn’t let him go through this alone. Not any of it.

If he wanted her to back off, he’d have to flat out tell her. Until then, she planned to stick by his side whether he appreciated her concern or not.

Unfortunately, Cannon proved correct. Rowdy filled out his insurance information, Logan explained the situation for a report and an hour later, after only a cursory check—presumably to ensure he wouldn’t die—they were still waiting.

When Logan took out his phone, Rowdy watched him. “Checking on the kid?”

“Calling your sister.”

Rowdy went still. “Does she know—?”

Logan shook his head. “When I got the call, she was already asleep. She woke long enough to know I was rushing out, but she didn’t know it was for you. She assumed it was routine police business.”