Page 20 of Ballistic

Once finished, she strode across the room and opened the door on Dax, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. So serious.

Every time I saw the guy he had some concentrated look on his face. I wondered if he ever smiled, if he had nice teeth behind those lips. I wondered if I was the reason he didn’t bother.

The two of them stepped out into the hallway, and Dax cast one more glance back at me before closing the door behind him.

He still didn’t smile.

8

Dax

“I’ve cleaned her wound, changed the dressings. Looks like Staph to me, but who the hell knows. I’ll call in a script for antibiotics for you at the pharmacy up the street, once I’ve had it cultured. They know me there. Pick it up under the name Robert Jones.” Doc Aikens prattled on, standing just outside of Nicoleta’s bedroom door. “I also did my usual gynecological. I’ll run the samples and let you know of any additional treatments, if necessary. Looks clean from what I’ve gathered, clinically. It appears she has an implant for birth control. Make her eat. Even if she fights you, she has to keep up her fluids and nutrition. Maybe grab a multi-vitamin for her. And let her out of the restraints every few hours.”

Woman had my head spinning with all those directives. “Goddamn. Should I take her for walks twice a day, too?”

Instead of smiling, her face crinkled with concern. “What do you plan to do with her?”

I looked past her to the closed door and back again. “Her father’s been in touch with me.”

“You seem troubled by that.”

“I don’t know this guy.” I stroked my chin as a shit-storm of thoughts kicked up like a mini tornado again. “What if I’m putting her back in harm’s way?”

“What’s your alternative? Keeping her?”

“No. Hell, no. She’s …. I can’t keep her here. She’s probably in more danger with me than anyone. But I’m not sending her out into the streets, either.” I dragged a hand down my face and across the back of my neck, staring off at the wall behind her. “She gets these … nightmares, sometimes. I thought it was the drugs. Maybe hallucinating, but seems like she’s almost reliving some shit. Talking in tongues like she’s fucking possessed.”

“She undoubtedly has some post-traumatic stress. I could provide a sleeping aide for that. Or perhaps try some melatonin for her, first. See if that calms her. It’s relatively mild, so she may need something stronger if they persist.” She tipped her head to the side drawing my attention back to her. “You know there are programs, Dax, that help—”

“No.” Hands on my hips, I shook my head. “Look, no offense, but Livvie got caught up in those programs that supposedly help. The cops, the judges, the social workers. They’re all in on this shit.”

Doc Aikens had long worked in shelters for battered women, and junkies trying to get clean. I’d first met her while trying to help a friend out of a shitty situation a while back. She’d known me for a long time. Knew my intentions and had offered to help me get Nicoleta off the drugs.

She patted my shoulder and gave a sympathetic smile. “You’ll do what’s right, Dax. Seven times out of ten, you usually do.”

In spite of all my indecision, I chuckled. “Only seven, huh?”

“Well, nobody’s perfect, honey.” With a rub of my arm, she stepped past me, and headed toward the door.

“Thanks, Doc. For everything.”

With a wink, she exited my apartment, leaving me to figure out what the hell I planned to do with the girl.

I still had every intention of going after Tesarik. Too many girls had paid for his extravagant lifestyle with their lives, and even if I risked mine, it’d be worth it to see that evil prick go down.

I slid the card from my pocket, staring down at the number her father had given me. Guy probably had a hit out on me already. Made sense to turn her over to him, if he was, in fact, her father, but something in my gut wasn’t down with that plan. Something told me, in spite of those combative moments and the nightmares, she was better off with me. At least until I figured out what the hell those nightmares were all about.

Cracking the door open, I peeked inside. Seeing the girl had fallen asleep, I padded quietly across the room to her bed. Beneath the bruises and scratches, she had the kind of face one couldn’t forget. The kind that sent a shiver down the spine, imagining sunlight and a smile lighting up those pale whiskey eyes.

Her arms hung awkwardly from the restraints, and I shook my head, pushing to my feet. Didn’t feel right having her tied up like some kind of wild animal. Christ, no wonder she didn’t trust me.

I unlatched both of them, lowering each arm down onto the bed beside her, and sat down in the nearby chair, watching the slow and steady rise of her chest. I’d had my share of women—beautiful, strong and outspoken. Something about the girl called to me to protect her. Yeah, she was strong, too. She’d have to be to have survived a rotten bastard like Tesarik, but she needed someone to watch out for her. To care for her.

Shipping her off to some asshole claiming to be her old man just felt wrong, for some reason. Maybe that was the excuse I’d come up with to keep from giving her up. Or maybe I just never had much respect for deadbeat dads who’d threatened me.

Pain stabbed my ribcage on a sharp breath, and I leaned into my side where I’d taken two hard punches. The radiating ache throbbed a warning that I’d have a massive bruise there within a matter of minutes.

“That’ll teach you, boy. Touch my shit again, and I’ll break every bone in your hand.”