He sighed and turned, following the other men outside.
She unclenched her jaw. When were they leaving town for good, anyway? They had to have the pictures they needed by now. She took another sip of her water, reminding herself to stay hydrated.
The door opened. Cold air swept across the floor, carrying the scent of damp earth and something metallic. May looked up automatically.
Brad Connor stumbled inside.
She winced.
He was in his late twenties, though tonight he looked older. Greasy blond hair hung in his eyes, and his goatee was patchy and untrimmed. His clothes were dusty and rumpled, like he’d slept in them, and his boots were caked in dried mud. He stood just inside the doorway for a second, blinking against the light, his movements jerky.
Then he saw her and made a beeline for her table.
“Hey, Brad.” May set her napkin down and pushed her chair back. “How are you feeling? You okay?”
“No.” Scabs showed across his chin. “I’m hurting real bad. My back’s killing me.”
Up close, the signs were impossible to miss. His pupils were blown wide. His head jerked every few seconds, like a glitch in a feed. His jaw clenched and unclenched.
“I can’t give you anything,” she said quietly.
“Yes, you can.” He stepped closer. “I’m in real pain, Doc. You’ve got to help me.”
She stood instinctively, putting the table between them without making it obvious. The guy was big. “What have you been taking?”
He twitched. “Nothing. I swear. I haven’t taken anything.”
“Brad,” she said, keeping her tone calm. “I can’t give you anything. But I can get you a referral. You need help.” She’d known for months he was using again. He’d disappear into the woods for stretches at a time, then resurface hollow-eyed and shaky. There hadn’t been much she could do without him asking for help.
“No, you’ve got to help me,” he hissed. A couple of heads turned near the bar.
“I don’t have anything to give you,” she said. “Not here.”
“You do. Back at the office.” He came closer. His breath was sour. “Please, Doc. Just come back to the office. Give me something real quick. Just to get me through the night. Then I’ll go wherever you want.” The words tumbled out of him too fast, almost tripping over each other.
Her heart hurt for him. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”
Brad’s eyes darted past her, scanning the room, then snapped back. “You don’t understand. I can’t sleep. I can’t stand up straight. I just need to take the edge off. Just this once.”
“It’s never just once,” she said softly.
Spittle showed on his lip. “You’re my doctor.”
“And because I’m your doctor, I’m not going to give you something that’ll hurt you.”
For a second, anger flared in his expression. Then it flickered into something else. Desperation. “Please,” he whispered.
May held his gaze. Her heart ached for him. “I’ll sit with you and help you find somewhere safe tonight, but I’m not handing you narcotics.”
Rage filled his face. “Yes, you are.” He lunged at her.
Everything happened fast.
One second Brad was looming into her space, jittery and unpredictable. The next, Ace was there. She didn’t even see him move.
Ace came in from Brad’s blind side, one hand clamping down around Brad’s wrist in a grip so precise it looked practiced. He twisted—not violently, but efficiently—rotating the arm up and back while stepping in close enough to control Brad’s balance. At the same time, his other hand slid to Brad’s shoulder and drove him forward and down.
It wasn’t remotely dramatic. Ace remained totally in control.
