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Chapter 37

“You know, I’m pretty sure that the blame belongs to the maniac with the bat who killed my truck.”

Vin’s voice dropped into a hoarse, horrified whisper. “I was baiting him. With the picture on my phone.”

“Vin. Please—”

“God, I’m sorry.”

“Stop.” Beau clenched his jaw, reached and grabbed Vin’s hand, the movement sending sparks of pain through the cloud of morphine. He settled back into the pillows, pressing Vin’s unresisting hand against his chest. “You didn’t do this and I’m in too much pain to argue with you.”

Vin bit his lip, red blotches creeping up his cheeks. “Of course,” he said. He leaned over and kissed Beau’s forehead. “I’m going to go have a smoke. You get some sleep.”

“When you’re feeling stronger,” David said, “the police are going to want to talk with you about what happened.” He stood up and paced around the room.

Beau sighed, turned his head toward the wall, ignoring the pulling ache across his shoulders.