“Can’t they do that stuff on the regular floor?”
“They can, but we watch her much more closely up here.” She put her hand on his arm. “Try not to worry. She’s doing well, considering what she’s been through.”
Considering what she’s been through…
Meaning that she’d nearly bled to death after taking a bullet that should’ve hit him instead of her. If only he’d stayed closer to her while they’d hunted Offenbach, maybe he’d be in that bed rather than her. He’d much prefer that.
“I’m sure she’d like to see you. She lights up when you’re around.”
What the hell did that mean? “Oh, um, okay. How long has she been asleep?”
“About an hour.”
“Is it normal for her to be so terribly pale?”
“After what she’s endured, it’s entirely normal. She’ll be back to her usual self in a few weeks.”
That last part was the only thing he wanted to hear. “Thank you.”
“Of course.”
After she went to check on other patients, Jesse continued to stand outside the room, gazing through the window at the tiny firebrand in the bed and breaking into a cold sweat for the hundredth time since she’d been wounded. He fucking loved her, and that was the last goddamned thing he’d intended to let happen.
He was about to walk away, to go home where she couldn’t get to him, at least not while she was still attached to machines that were making her better. But then she opened her eyes, saw him there and smiled. As she crooked her finger at him, he understood what the nurse had meant when she’d said Memphis lit up when he was there. He saw the light in her eyes and was humbled to know he’d put it there.
Chapter Eighteen
As Jesse pushed open the door to Memphis’s room, he couldn’t deny the powerful need she invoked in him. He’d prided himself on not needing anyone or anything to get by, but this one… She’d worked her way under his skin so deep, it would take ten men and a team of mules to get her out, and even then, she’d probably kick their asses before she’d let them take her away from him.
She held out her hand to him. The back of it was bruised from IVs, but the softness of her skin flooded him with comfort only she could provide. Why her? Why not any one of a dozen other meaningless hookups that’d passed through his life like ships in the night? Why was she the one who’d anchored herself to his soul, refusing to let go no matter how hard he tried to push her away?
“How was your day, dear?”
“Ethan and Tomas are back with their families. Got the father and son who kidnapped them. Still looking for the girl.”
She winced at that last part, having spent more than five years working on the Marshals’ Missing Child Program team, tracking down children who’d been endangered or victims of crime or human trafficking. That assignment had led her to declare she was never having kids of her own.
“What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Nothing. You’re supposed to be resting and relaxing and growing new blood.”
Her smile was less dazzling than usual, but still a welcome sight, even if her paleness freaked him out. “How does one grow new blood?”
“Who the fuck knows? Just hurry up and get it done so we can get you out of here.”
She released his hand to run her fingers through his hair, straightening it as she went. “You look terrible.”
“You look worse.”
“Mama said I should find me a man who says sweet things to me.”
“You should listen to your mama.”
“You need to cross-check WIN and NCIC,” she said, referring to the Warrant Information Network and the National Crime Information Center. “Look for suspected traffickers who might’ve been in the area at the time the kids went missing. Identify all the father’s known associates. Do the kid’s, too. Who knows what he’s gotten himself into with that dirtbag as his father?”
“Stop,” Jesse said. “You’re not on this case.”
“I want you to find that girl before it’s too late. Follow the money. Check to see if the father received any big payments—and make sure to look at the son, too. Maybe the father had the money sent to the kid, thinking we wouldn’t check a minor’s accounts.”
