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cloth.
    “Sorry,” he slurred a short while later, embarrassed he couldn’t prevent everything he’d eaten today from coming forth.
    “It’s okay,” she whispered back.
    He winced. “W-What…happened?”
    Hesitating, Vic knew at some point she had to tell him the truth. However, the place wasn’t in a hospital room, and the time wasn’t when he was half-conscious from morphine. “Y-You had an accident on your motorcycle.”
    “Car,” he moaned, remembering the impact.
    Another wave of tears formed and she struggled to swallow her sob. “Y-Yes.”
    “Hurts…a lot.”
    “I know, baby. I know.”
    “Girls…where…are—”
    “Man, stop asking so many questions,” she half joked, hoping it would take his mind off his pain. She smoothed back the sweat-drenched hair matted at his temple. “Don’t worry now. They’re with Mrs. Bradford, and they’re fine.”
    He ran his tongue along parched, cracked lips. “Had to find…you.”
    Her heart lurched and she bit down so hard on her bottom lip to keep her anguished wail at bay that she tasted the coppery flavor of her own blood. Guilt assailed her because she knew if he hadn’t tried to follow her after what she’d told him, he wouldn’t be lying there. “I’m so sorry.”
    He nodded faintly to communicate he understood. His head throbbed painfully and his tongue was heavy and stiff. Somehow, though, he managed to slowly move his bruised lips to weakly utter, “Pushed too…hard.”
    Vic’s eyes filled with more tears, and her trembling was worse than before. “Hush now. We’ll talk later.”
    His mouth moved again, doing its best to sound out the one word that remained soundless: Stay . His breathing slowed and finally evened out to a faint whistle. He blinked once, twice, before his eyelids gradually drifted shut.
    Vic listened to his steady breathing and finally let the hot, scalding tears escape without restriction. Squeezing her eyelids shut, she desperately tried to block the memory of that split second when she thought she’d lost him.
    Lifting his hand to her mouth, she kissed the back of it, wondering what he had tried to say two seconds earlier.

Chapter 4
    “Oh, God, be careful with him now.”
    Vic nervously held the front door open late Sunday afternoon as Marcel, Ray, and Alex helped Baptiste inside the refurbished Victorian-style home he’d purchased in East Oakland, two blocks away from the health clinic, which was scheduled to open Tuesday morning.
    Ray blew out a hard breath and wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “All right, Honey, where ya want him?”
    Vic closed the door and pointed down the hallway. “Bedroom.”
    “Uh-uh,” A.J. sluggishly drawled, undraping his arms from around his brothers’ necks. With unsteady steps, he used the wall for support to slowly guide himself toward the living room.
    Vic stepped in front of him. “Baptiste, don’t go in there.”
    Alex placed his palm at the small of A.J.’s back to keep his wobbly frame upright and whispered, “Man, I’m telling you, don’t argue with her right now.”
    A.J. closed his eyes and winced. Alex’s soft murmur sounded like a sonic explosion going off inside his head. “Why not?”
    “Because there’s a new sheriff in town: me,” Vic answered. “Until I can get you back on your feet, I give the orders around here.”
    Despite his swollen face, A.J. managed a half-crooked smile. “That’s all I get, a few lousy days?”
    Vic fought back the grin working at her jaw and peered around Baptiste to give Marcel, Ray, and Alex a hard look. “Well, what are y’all standing there for?” The authority in her tone left no doubt as to who was in charge. “Baptiste needs to be off his feet.”
    A.J. patted Vic on the shoulder. “Can’t I go to bed later, Honey?”
    “No! Baptiste, you and them sidekicks of yours got three seconds to start moving down that hall or it’s gonna get real dangerous up in here.” Vic glanced at her watch. “You’ve