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Voices pull me from sleep. I tighten my grip on my gun and lift it. The phone lights up in my other hand.

  I’m here.

  I wait until I actually hear him. At the sound of his voice, my body goes lax. I need to stand, but I’m unable to send the message to my legs. “Moon,” I groan. Flashlights are fanned out in four directions and they zero in on the sound of my croaky voice. Moon gets to me first and goes to his knees beside me. I wince when the flashlights blind me.

  “Move the lights off her,” Moon snaps. All but the one he’s holding move away. He tips his down. Bad cop, I want to tell him. Always limit their vision. I’m not a cop, though, and Moon most definitely isn’t either.

  “Speak to me, baby.” He pushes the hair from my face.

  I feel nauseated and I only manage to mumble this information. He must understand because he wraps his arm around my chest and keeps me from falling face first into vomit as my guts heave onto the ground beside me. He offers a soothing chorus of words until he calls me “baby” again.

  “Don’t call me that,” I say stupidly. It’s the shame of him holding me while I toss my cookies. On the brighter side, I can’t be too bad off if I feel embarrassment.

  He wipes my mouth with a cloth, and I hope it isn’t his shirt. “Close your eyes. I need to check your head,” he says softly while I respond like a pile of jelly in his arms. My arms and legs are not obeying me, but closing my eyes against the light is easy. I concentrate on not vomiting again while Moon examines whatever injury he’s concerned about. I’m tired, achy, and still nauseated. I wince when he touches my forehead.

  His voice is low but all business. “You need stitches. What about your arms and legs?”

  I’m having a difficult time responding to his question and run it through my brain slowly. “Okay… I think.” I try to take stock of my injuries. “My head hurts.”

  Moon peels my fingers from my gun and removes it from my hand. I forgot it was there. He gently squeezes my fingers. Such a small thing. When his warm hand touches mine, I realize I’m shivering. At this altitude, the temperature is somewhere in the sixties. I’m not dressed for it. There was too much on my mind to take notice until now.

  “Chest, stomach?” he inquires next.

  “Good.”

  My neck and back are his final concern.

  “Good,” I say again. My teeth start chattering and the shaking is growing worse. I’m safe, I tell myself. Moon will keep the danger away.

  “I’m lifting you. If you have any sharp pains, tell me immediately.”

  I like the feel of his warm breath on my face as he speaks next to my ear. “K.”

  One arm goes behind my back and the other under my knees.

  “Drop the phone, Madison. One of my men will pick it up.”

  The phone slides through my fingers, and I lift my arms and circle his neck after he stands. “You’ll fall,” I whisper against his chest and breathe into his shirt. He’s so damn warm.

  His voice remains strong and reassuring. “I’ve got you. I won’t fall.”

  His scent and warmth calm me. I try to hold on tight, but my arms aren’t obeying me. We don’t speak as he carries me up the side of the mountain. At one point, he stumbles. My eyes pop open and I dig my fingernails into his back. “It’s okay, baby,” he assures me. One of his men steadies Moon, and my eyes close again. The crunch of gravel alerts me that we’ve made it to the road. I peer at the asphalt beneath Moon’s shoes before I look around. Two dark SUVs are parked on the shoulder of the road close to where I went over. I can see my tire marks in the gravel. Someone opens the back door to the first SUV and Moon slides in while holding me. He keeps moving over until my feet are inside. The door closes and the inner light goes off. It comes back on a moment later when the tailgate lifts for a few seconds. The front door opens and Gomez climbs behind the wheel. He hands Moon a blanket and Moon covers me as the engine starts its quiet purr.

  “You with me, Madison?” Moon asks.

  “Yea.” I’m trying not to cry.

  “Who do we need to avoid?”

  This question pulls me back from girly tears. Avoidance of cops is Moon’s world.

  “Police.”

  Gomez begins speaking. “Follow us back to the house. We’re avoiding the police, so I’ll be driving the speed limit.” This doesn’t make sense until I realize he’s on a cell phone. He makes a U-turn onto the highway. My stomach is still queasy, and I close my eyes. Within a few minutes, I thankfully doze off again.

  “Madison,” Moon whispers. “We’re here. I have a doctor waiting inside. I’m handing you off to Gomez.”

  I clench his shirt and burrow my head farther into his chest as other arms attempt to lift me out of Moon’s hold. Moon’s arms tighten. “It’s okay. I’ve got her,” he says as the other person backs off.

  It’s awkward as Moon shifts me around. He gets us out of the car and begins firing orders at Gomez while he carries me to his front door. “I want a full report on her vehicle once it’s in the garage. Let me know immediately if the tow company runs into problems with law enforcement. Everyone needs to be on alert.”

  My mind flashes to Penny’s phone call. “Penny Dandridge. Someone needs to check on her, please. She’s Harry’s wife.”

  “Alex, take care of that personally,” Moon says as we enter the house and he turns to the stairs. I think we’re heading to the room I had when I was here before. That’s not the case. He walks to the far end of the hallway, through the double doors, and into what I assume is his bedroom. I peek out of my nestled safe place against his chest and see his covers pulled back and rumpled where he must have been sleeping when I called. Every light in the room is on and a man is standing a few feet from the massive bed.

  “No,” I object. “I’m filthy. Don’t put me down on the sheets.” I have no idea why I care other than I would feel so much more comfortable in the other bed. The one that isn’t Moon’s.

  Moon ignores me and gently lowers me onto the bed. I try to sit up. “No, lie back.” His hand goes to my chest and he presses me back. “Carlo will check you over. He’s my personal physician.”

  I see Moon’s face clearly for the first time tonight. His eyes are darker than I remember—his expression savage. Something tells me he’s holding onto his temper by a thread. I don’t blame him. I need to tell him the truth about what I’ve pulled him into. He needs to know why I couldn’t call the police. My gaze travels to his shirt. It will need to be thrown away. It’s covered with my blood. I can’t seem to focus on one thing.

  “Penny. Oh, God, Penny. You need to find her.”

  “Shh, baby. Alex is checking on your friend.”

  That’s right. I remember now. “I need to tell you things.” My gaze returns to Moon’s. “Bad things.”

  I hold onto his gaze. I’m safe. Penny will be safe. They can’t get me here. “We’ll talk after Carlo examines you,” he assures me.

  Moon steps back and a middle-aged man with compassionate brown eyes bends over me. I try to look around him to Moon. The man smiles and I forget about Moon. The doctor’s hair is mostly gray and his smile is genuine.

  “Miss Kinlock, I’m Dr. Santos. Please call me Carlo.” He begins explaining what he needs to do. I’m only half following. The sound of his voice is putting me to sleep. He performs each part of his exam and repeats what and why he’s doing what he’s doing. He shines a light in my eyes and I close them. “I need you to look into the light, Miss Kinlock.” His voice is soft and coaxing.

  I squint trying to do what he says. I want to please him. It’s an odd sensation because I’m not fond of doctors. I put up with their curt bedside manner through multiple surgeries on my shoulder. I’ve had enough of doctors to last me a lifetime. He puts the light down and has me roll to my side facing away from him. He places his fingers on the base of my skull and manipulates the vertebrae down my back.

  “Tell me if anything hurts while I do this.”

  Everything hurts now, though not e
nough to mention it. He has me roll to my back again and wiggle my toes. Then he starts at my fingers and travels over my wrist and up my arm. I am holding it together until he manipulates my shoulder and I wince rather loudly.

  “I’m cutting your shirt off, Miss Kinlock. I hope it’s not one you are overly fond of.” I close my eyes as the scissors slice through the material and my shirt is pulled away. “You’ve had surgery on this shoulder. On a scale of one to ten, how bad is the pain now?”

  I’ve played this game too many times to count. “Seven,” I say through gritted teeth. “It will be okay, though.”

  “Allow me to be the judge of that, Miss Kinlock.” There’s an edge to his voice now.

  “Call me Mak.” I suck in a sharp breath because he starts doing the mean doctor thing and rotates my shoulder. When he’s finished torturing me, he gives the same diagnosis I already knew, “It’s not dislocated.” I humph out a short laugh before he continues. “When I’m done examining you, I’ll give you something for general pain. You need stitches on your forehead and that will require a local. Are you allergic to anything?”

  “No,” I tell him. I’m having trouble keeping my eyes open, so close them while Dr. Santos finishes his examination. He has checked most of my joints and muscles, and I’m thankful that no more clothes are cut off. He cleans my face with a soft, warm cloth. I remain still. It feels soothing until he cleans the area of the wound. I tense but suffer through it.

  “Breathe, Miss Kinlock.” I open my eyes and he smiles again. “I need to lower your pants and have you roll to the side for two injections.”

  “What are they?”

  “An antibiotic and something for pain. It’s just a muscle relaxant that will make you groggy. I’ll also inject a local before I thoroughly clean the wound on your forehead and stitch it.”

  His hands go to the waistband of my BDUs, and I protest. It’s stupid, really. The man already cut off my shirt.

  “I’ll help, Carlo. Move back for a moment,” Moon says.

  Moon bends over me. “We need to take the pants completely off, Madison. You can have a warm bath after Carlo finishes. I’ll pull the sheet up and cover you after the shots.”

  “You’re always taking off my pants,” I tease, forgetting that the doctor is in the room.

  “It’s one of my favorite things to do, baby,” Moon teases back. The doctor clears his throat, and I’m reminded we aren’t alone. Not that I should have any thoughts like that right now. I’ll put it down to my head injury. Moon unsnaps my pants and unzips them. He’s good at it, which shouldn’t surprise me. I lift a bit so he can pull them over my ass. I can’t seem to remember what panties I pulled on before running out of my apartment. I glance down and see yellow. My bra is black. Great, a bumblebee. Just what I don’t want when a man undresses me.

  Moon stops pulling down my pants and removes my shoes and socks before pulling the BDUs completely off. He slides the sheet up to my thighs and moves back. I don’t even get a pat on the ass for cooperating.

  “Roll a bit and I’ll make this quick,” Dr. Santos orders. I do as he says and feel two slight stings in succession. After the shots are administered, he pulls the sheet up and over my chest.

  “This next part won’t be as fun. I’ll wait about ten minutes for the muscle relaxer to work. Then I’ll inject the local.”

  “I’m good. Go ahead and do it,” I request. I really need that bath.

  He says something in Spanish to Moon, who replies in Spanish. The doctor walks away for a moment while Moon remains a few feet from the bed, keeping his gaze steady on me.

  When Dr. Santos injects the local, it hurts like a bitch. Thankfully, I feel nothing while he cleans and stitches the wound. He gives me his complete diagnosis and instructions while he expertly ties and clips each suture. “Your nose bled, though it is not broken. Facial bruising has formed and will get worse before it gets better. Ice will help. Your shoulder worries me because there may be damage I cannot see. If it gives you additional trouble, call me. I see no outward signs of internal bleeding but again, call me if you have more than the expected aches and pains. You are a lucky woman, Miss Kinlock, and do not speak while I am stitching your lovely face,” he chides. “I’m using small sutures to minimalize the scaring.”

  I do exactly as the doctor orders.

  “Finished,” he says as he stands up from the bed. He talks to Moon in rapid Spanish. The muscle relaxer is doing its job, making me too tired to be annoyed that I can’t decipher what they’re saying.

  I doze off momentarily, and Moon’s soft voice wakes me. “Do you want that bath or would you rather sleep?”

  I look around the room and don’t see the doctor or anyone else. My arms and legs feel like lead. “Bath, please.”

  The corners of Moon’s mouth quirk before he speaks. “The good news is that the bathtub is large with jets. The bad news is that you aren’t getting in without me.”

  Oh, joy. I can’t for the life of me remember why that should be bad news.

  Chapter Fourteen