Karma (9 page)

“Throw, throw, throw, throw!” The words circled around the crowd.

Dare finally stepped into the open. He glanced from Sam in the booth to the current player and muttered a curse. The last thing this family-oriented fair needed was Brian McKnight causing trouble and making a scene. And though Sam
was in the tank, kids from the youth center were running the booth and they weren’t equipped to handle this.

Dare had to distract McKnight and give someone else a shot at Sam before things got out of hand. He took a step forward but someone beat him to it.

Liza called out her brother’s name, the distraught look on her face pushing all sorts of emotional buttons Dare hadn’t known he possessed.

Brian turned her way, his glassy gaze focusing on his sister. “Liza Lou! What are you doing here?” he slurred.

“I think you’ve been at this long enough. Let’s go get a soda or something.”

“It’s still my turn,” Brian said, winding his arm and tossing the ball at the target that would release Sam into the tank. Brian’s pitch missed by a mile. They’d be lucky if he didn’t hit someone with his wild throws.

Dare was torn between stepping in and possibly embarrassing Liza with his presence and letting things play out. A glance at the booth told him Sam sat in a relaxed pose, arms folded across his chest, obviously unconcerned about a possible dunking, since McKnight’s aim was way off.

And unlike when the high school kids tossed balls at him, Sam didn’t yell back any taunts or reply to the smartass remarks with good humor. He knew better than to engage a drunk.

“Brian, please,” Liza said once more.

Dare saw the pointing and heard the murmurs of people around him. They were talking about the McKnights and the scene they were making.

Brian wasn’t listening to his sister, his sole focus on Sam. “I wouldn’t look so cocky if I were you,” the drunk man called to Sam. “You’re going down, Officer Asshole!”

Liza visibly winced at his language, knowing as Dare did that they were surrounded by kids and their parents, some of whom started to drag their children away. Others chose to stay and watch the spectacle.

Someone had to take control. “McKnight!” Dare stepped forward. “Why don’t you move it along and give one of the kids a chance?”

Hearing his voice, Liza turned and met his gaze. Where he’d been hoping she’d be happy to see him, now pure mortification settled over her pretty features and her cheeks burned a bright shade of red.

“Brian, let’s go!” she said, her jaw clenched in anger.

“Listen to your sister,” Dare suggested.

Brian shook his head. “I paid for this last ball and I’m going to take my shot.” He stumbled but righted himself before he fell.

Dare needed to get that ball away from McKnight before his next throw hurt someone badly. “Hand it over,” Dare ordered, using the tone he would use for “Drop your weapon.”

“No damned cop’s going to tell me I don’t have the right to get what I paid for,” Brian spat. Brian wound his arm, ready to pitch.

Dare bolted forward, intending to grab him, but Liza was closer. She reached for Brian at the same time her brother pitched his arm forward, his fist and the ball cracking against her head with a solid thud.

The sound echoed in Dare’s ear as she fell to the ground. He immediately dropped to his knees at Liza’s prone body.

Another cop grabbed Brian, who seemed unaware that he’d clocked his sister.

“Okay, everyone, show’s over,” Cara said.

Dare wasn’t aware of anything around him except the injured woman on the ground. Heart in his throat, he bent his head close to hers. “Liza?”

She didn’t respond.

“Baby, you with me?” He stroked his hand down her cheek, unable to believe the fear that had settled deep in his gut.

Memories of another time Brian had taken someone out with his fist came flying at him, the image of Stuart
Rossman hitting the ground, the sound of his head cracking against the floor reverberating in his head.

“Let me through.” The guy Dare had seen Liza with earlier stepped forward.

“She needs space,” Cara said, immediately blocking the man from getting near Liza.

“She came here with me,” the man said.

“But I’m taking over from here.” Dare spoke low, his tone dark even to his own ears.

“Jeff, let’s go. You can check on her later,” a redhead said to him.

“But—”

“No buts,” Cara said in cop mode.

Dare owed her one.

“We’re leaving,” the other woman with Jeff promised.

Liza’s sudden moan of pain caught Dare’s attention. She was conscious. “Liza?” Dare asked.

He glanced at her pale face as her eyes opened. “Brian. I need to get to Brian.”

“He’s being taken care of,” Dare said, keeping his voice level and calm. If he expressed even half of the anger he was feeling toward her sibling, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. And right now he desperately wanted to be with her and make sure she was okay.

“I need to see him.” Liza lifted her head but winced and stopped the sudden movement.

Dare settled cross-legged beside her and gently moved her head into his lap. “The paramedics are on their way,” he assured her, hoping he was right.

“So is Alexa,” Cara said. “She okay?” Cara gestured to Liza.

“I think so,” Dare said. But he wasn’t. He was grateful Liza couldn’t stand because Dare would lay odds his own legs wouldn’t be steady just yet.

“I’m fine,” Liza murmured. She wasn’t moving her head, but at least she was talking and coherent.

“How’s the pain?” he asked.

“Better.” But her unshed tears proved that claim was a lie.

“You know if you wanted my attention all you had to do was ask. Getting hit by a flying fist is a little extreme.” He forced out the joke with a grin and was rewarded by a small smile. Followed by another wince.

“What happened?” Alexa knelt down, her doctor bag in her hand.

“She was hit by someone about to throw a ball at the tank,” Dare said.

Liza ran her tongue over her lips. “It was an accident,” she said.

Dare clenched his jaw at her explanation but said nothing to contradict her. He kept his mouth shut while Alexa checked Liza’s pupil dilation, asked her questions, took her blood pressure, and generally made sure she was okay.

“Can you sit up?” the doctor asked.

Liza attempted a nod but clearly regretted it. Instead, she allowed Alexa to gently lift her into a sitting position.

“Give yourself a minute,” the doctor suggested.

Though Liza still looked pale, she seemed more composed and Dare’s heart rate began to return to normal.

“I thought maybe she’d want some water?” Cara handed Dare a fresh, cold bottle.

“Thanks,” Dare said.

“Any nausea?” Alexa asked.

“No.”

“Good. Drink slowly,” Alexa warned Liza. “I’d like you to go to the hospital and get checked out. Have a CAT scan done.”

Christopher DeMarco, a paramedic Dare knew from school stood waiting to help.

“No,” Liza said immediately.

“Okay,” Dare spoke at the same time, contradicting her.

“I don’t need a hospital. I didn’t black out. I’m sure I’ll have a nasty bump and it’ll hurt like hell, but I’m fine. Really.”

Everything inside Dare rebelled at the thought of letting her just go home like nothing had happened. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stuart Rossman, remembering how Dare had done nothing to help him, and Stuart had died.

“If you refuse, you’ll have to sign a paper saying you declined,” Christopher said, looking none too pleased.

Alexa frowned, obviously not happy either.

Dare wasn’t about to accept her no. “What about that actress who refused treatment and died a few hours later?” he asked, pressing the issue.

“Natasha Richardson?” Alexa asked.

“That’s her. All the newspapers said she claimed to be fine after she fell. She was joking around, but by the time she went to the hospital it was too late.”

Liza blinked into the sun and immediately looked down.

Alexa placed a hand on Liza’s shoulder. “Natasha Richardson died of an epidural hematoma due to a blunt impact to the head. In layman’s terms, you were hit by a hard fist and a harder ball.” The doctor paused for emphasis. “You need to get checked out.”

Liza sighed. “You’re taking his side because you’re friends,” she muttered. “Unfair ganging up on me.”

“She’s taking my side because I’m right,” Dare said.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Dare hadn’t realized how tense he was until she agreed and his muscles went slack with relief. “I’m riding with her,” he blurted out.

Liza didn’t reply, telling him the pain and stress were clearly wearing on her or else she’d probably argue.

Not that he’d let her fight him or win. He already knew her brother would be driven home to sleep off his stupor and Liza’s parents no longer lived in town. She kept to herself like Faith had said, so she had no one to take care of her now or afterward, when the pain really kicked in.

She’d go to the hospital, have those tests, and then he’d bring her home and take care of her himself.

* * *

Liza didn’t know what was worse: her brother humiliating himself in front of the entire town, her unsuccessful and equally embarrassing attempt to stop him, or the fact that Dare had witnessed the entire thing. Though she had no desire to go to the hospital, between the insistent cop and the paramedic, she’d felt cornered. And something in Dare’s voice and expression told her that her getting checked out was important to him. She couldn’t put her finger on why but she sensed it was so much more than making sure her thick skull would survive another day.

Once she’d agreed, Liza lost control of the situation and found herself taken by ambulance to University Hospital. Though Dare had said he’d go with her, he’d ended up driving his car and following behind so he’d be able to take her home later, another thing she’d been given no choice over.

He’d met up with her in the ER and then they’d taken her for tests and now she waited alone in a small cubicle for someone to tell her when she could go home.

“Is that scowl because you’re in pain?” a familiar female voice asked.

Liza glanced into Dr. Alexa Collins’s concerned green eyes.

“No, the scowl was over something else,” Liza said.

“And the pain?” the doctor asked. “Can you describe it?”

“As long as I don’t nod my head, move too much, blink, or do much of anything else, it’s not too bad.” Liza laughed at her own joke and her head pounded harder. “Obviously it’s pretty bad,” she admitted.

The other woman nodded. “When you’re sitting still, on a scale of one to ten, one being the least amount of pain, how is it?”

“Four,” Liza said.

“And if you move?”

“Eight.”

Dr. Collins nodded. “The good news is the tests showed there’s nothing life-threatening to worry about. The bad news is it’s a mild concussion. I can prescribe some painkillers and send you home, but you’ll either be in too much pain to walk around and take care of yourself or too woozy from the meds. Do you have someone who can help you out?”

No, Liza was alone. Always had been. “I’m sure I’ll be okay. I’m pretty low maintenance.”

The pretty doctor cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “Let’s see you get up and walk yourself to the bathroom before I discharge you.” The doctor braced her hands on her hips, not offering her help to rise.

Knowing she didn’t have handrails on her bed at home, Liza tried to push herself into a sitting position first. The pain blasted through her head and she ended up flat on her back, staring at the ceiling waiting for the agony to subside.

“Do you have family I can call?” the doctor asked more gently.

“Not local.”

“Friends?” the doctor persisted.

Rachel and Tawny, her college friends, were in Manhattan. If she called, they’d come in a heartbeat to help her, but Liza hated asking them to disrupt their lives for her.

“She has me.”

Alexa turned to stare at Dare.

Liza hated feeling helpless and at anyone’s mercy. And she refused to meet Dare’s gaze as she automatically argued with his offer. “I’m sure you have more important things to do,” she told him.

“Actually, I don’t.” He eased his hands into his jeans’ pockets, looking all too sexy and sure of himself. “I’m off the whole weekend.”

“All right, then.” Alexa turned back to Liza, a grin on her face. “Since you’re in good hands, I can release you.”

Liza didn’t fight this time. She couldn’t. She obviously needed help, he was offering it, and she ought to be a lot
more grateful. She just didn’t understand
why
he was being so sweet to her. Before their kiss, they’d barely tolerated one another.

They weren’t friends.

They didn’t have a relationship. Liza didn’t
do
relationships. Her first and only serious pick of a man had been so far off base, she wasn’t willing to try again. Besides, even those closest to her, like Brian and her parents, consistently hurt her. Why add anyone else to her almost nonexistent inner circle?

So what did Dare see that made him want to help her? Why didn’t he view today as a prime example of an
I told you so
situation where her brother was concerned? She didn’t know, but apparently she’d have the weekend to find out.

“I’ll go write up the prescriptions and your release papers. A nurse will be back in to go over everything with you,” the doctor said.

“Thanks, Alexa,” Dare said.

“It’s my job.” She smiled at him. “But if you need anything later on, don’t bother with my service. Just call me at home. You have my number.”

And
that
had nothing to do with her job, Liza thought.

“Will do.” Dare waited until the doctor disappeared behind the drawn curtain and turned to Liza.

Walking over, he lowered the side rail and settled onto the mattress beside her. “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.

That tone triggered memories of his reaction in the minutes after Brian nailed her and she’d fallen to the ground.

“You called me ‘baby,’” she said, remembering. “After I got hit, I mean.” She knew it was an inane comment, but she couldn’t believe it then or now.