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She lowered herself onto it gingerly. As if she hurt all over.
After hanging from a catwalk, that wouldn’t be unexpected.
But what other injuries did she have?
Jack dropped to his haunches beside her, scrutinizing her in the illumination from the lights the medical team was setting up as he twined his fingers with hers.
To put it kindly, she was a mess.
Her temple was black-and-blue, her lips were raw and puffy, and when she pulled up the sleeves of her sweater to display her bruised and bloody wrists in response to a question from the paramedic, his stomach kinked, fermenting the anger already brewing there.
Given Lindsey’s physical injuries, plus the emotional traumashe’d been put through, it was hard to feel even one iota of remorse for taking Heidi out.
As for Oliver—assuming he survived, they ought to lock him up forever.
Jack remained silent while the paramedic took vitals, flashed his penlight in Lindsey’s pupils, and asked a ton of questions. But he didn’t relinquish his grip on her hand.
“How hard did you hit your head?” The paramedic examined the bruise on her temple.
“Hard enough to see stars. But I hit the back of my head harder.”
“Show me where.”
She touched a spot near the middle.
As soon as the man began to feel it, she winced. “Ouch.”
“Sorry.” Nevertheless, he continued probing. “That’s quite a goose egg. Did you lose consciousness?”
“No.”
“The ER docs may want to image that.”
“No.” Her posture stiffened. “I don’t have any concussion symptoms.”
“No headache?”
She gave a shrug of concession. “Other than a headache.”
“What about dizziness, nausea, light or sound sensitivity, confusion?”
“No.”
“Any neck pain or weakness or tingling anywhere?”
“No.”
“I can treat your abrasions here, but with two bumps to the head, it may be smart to be evaluated for a brain injury in the ER.”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll be fine.”
“Lindsey.” Jack squeezed her hand and rejoined the conversation. “Why don’t you let them take you to the hospital? If there’s any damage, waiting could be a mistake.”
Indecision flickered in her eyes. “I hate causing you any more worry, but I really want to go home, Jack.” Her voice hitched, and moisture pooled on her lower lashes. “I can call 911 if any symptoms develop.”
After all she’d been through, it wasn’t hard to understand why she’d crave the comfort of familiar surroundings.
He looked at the paramedic. “In your opinion, how dangerous would it be if she went home?”
