Knight watched as Mal pursed his lips, his frosty blue eyes gone as hard as ice.
He was pissed. Beyond pissed. Past something that Knight had never seen.
He was going to kill someone.
“What do you remember about the car?” Mal asked, his voice flat.
“A black Beemer,” said Knight, knowing the best thing to do would be to answer Mal’s question as best he could. “Saw the shooter. White guy. Black hair pulled back, wearin’ a white tank. He held the gun sideways, like gang-bangers.”
Knight didn’t give the man time to shoot at him, as he had swerved off the road just in case the man was going to. He didn’t remember if the man did shoot at him. He was too busy at that moment.
Mal took in a breath, and lifted his head to see a nurse come into the room. “Mr. King?”
“Yes,” both men said.
The nurse looked from Mal to Knight, and addressed the big blond man in the emergency room gurney. “Luckily, Dr. DeWare reset your bone so we’re going to keep you overnight to make sure it heals correctly and your children are unharmed.”
“It’ll heal. Discharge me now.”
She shook her head. “Mr. King, after you stated you were pregnant, we need to make sure that everything is all right.”
“I wanna go back to Millennium City.”
“It’s only overnight.”
Knight crossed his arms. Mal said, “I don’t want the chaos that I walked into earlier to happen again.”
Nurses, doctors, even the cleaning crew, were in Knight’s bay trying to get a gander at the pregnant man. Knight held onto Scott’s rose as if it were a lifeline, even stuck it in the pocket of his jonnie. It wasn’t until Mal shooed them away by a look and a growl that they finally left him alone and treated him.
“We’ll post a guard.”
“Not to mention that I’m staying.”
Mal slept in the recliner chair while Knight fitfully slept on the bed in the room. He was still unable to walk on the leg the next morning, but it at least didn’t look twisted. After six hours they gave him crutches and discharged him…
Into a maelstrom of reporters and paparazzi.
Leaving Kitty in the parking lot of the hospital, they climbed into a cab instead. The cab driver, seeing both men’s angry faces, made no small talk as he drove them to their home in Millennium City.
And there were reporters there, too.
Fighting their way through that, they got upstairs. Knight refused to answer the door, left the phone off the hook, didn’t answer his home phone, and drew the curtains.
He was royally, unequivocally, pissed off. Mal paced the room. “Maybe we can get Scott or Mike to put in a teleporter.”
“How will that work wi’ me?” Knight asked. “I don’ wanna fuck things up. I gotta get Kitty back.”
“I’ll get Kitty back. Wait here.”
Mal got his leathers that he had worn the first time he rode with Knight.
“Be careful,” Knight said.
“I’ll be very careful, my love,” Mal said, and gave Knight a kiss.