Gregg cleared his throat. "Are you okay?" He put his hand on her arm. "I mean... ah, do you want to call the police."
Holly's laugh was low and achingly sexy. "Oh, it was consensual. Whatever it was." Her expression lost its glow. "That's the point... I don't know what it was. I thought I'd dreamed it. I didn't think it was real until..."
Until there was some undeniable evidence to the contrary.
Gregg brushed her blond extensions over her shoulder. "You sure you're all right?"
"I guess so."
Man, it didn't take him even a moment to make up his mind. "Well, that's it. We're leaving tomorrow."
"What? Oh, my God, Gregg... I didn't mean to cause problems--" She frowned. "Maybe... maybe I dreamed the after part where I woke up, too. I took another shower... maybe none of it really happened."
"Fuck it, I'll call Atlanta in the a.m. and tell them it's back on. I'm not going to have you staying where you're not safe."
"Jesus, I mean, that's very chivalric of you, but... I don't know. Everything's so fuzzy, and now I wonder if I'll just feel better in the morning. I'm really confused... it was weird." Her fingertips went to her temples and started rubbing in circles, like her head was aching. "I will say that I wanted it to happen, every step of the way--"
"Was your door locked?" He wanted an answer to the question, but he also didn't need to hear about the Ghost with the Mostest, thank you very much.
"I always lock a hotel room door before I have a shower."
"Windows?"
"Closed. I guess they're locked. I don't know."
"Well, you stay with me tonight. You'll be safe here." And not just because he wasn't going to hit on her now. He had a gun with him. Always. And the thing was permitted and he knew how to use it: Back when people had been getting popped in L.A. traffic, he'd decided to get armed.
Together they stretched out on the bed. "I'll leave the light on."
"It's okay. Just lock the door."
He nodded and slipped off the bed, throwing the dead bolt as well as the chain; then he did a quick pass by the windows to inspect the latches. When he lay back down, she nestled into the crook of his arm and sighed.
With a lean, he pulled the duvet out from under their legs and over them, turned off the lamp and eased back into the pillows.
He thought of that man out walking the grounds and nearly growled. Fuck. This. Shit. Either it was a local with a passkey, or a staff member who could jimmy the lock.
Assuming anything had happened at all. Which she seemed less and less sure of--
Whatever. They were leaving in the morning and that was that.
He frowned in the darkness. "Holly?"
"Yes?"
"Why did you think it was Rathboone."
She yawned widely. "Because he looked exactly like the portrait in the living room."
Chapter Twenty-seven
Down in the exam room at the underground clinic, John stood before Xhex and felt utterly powerless to help her. As she sat screaming on the stainless-steel table, her arms strained against her hold on the sheet, and her face stretched long, her mouth tearing open, red tears spilling out of her eyes and falling down her white cheeks.... And he could do nothing about any of it.
He knew the rough place she was in. Knew that he couldn't possibly reach the well that she was down at the bottom of: He'd been there himself. He knew exactly what it was like to trip and fall and be in agony from hard impact... even though your body technically hadn't gone anywhere.
The only difference was that she had a voice to give her pain wings.
As his ears rang and his heart broke for her, he stayed strong against the gale force she let loose. After all, there was a reason why here and hear were separated by so little and sounded one like the other. Bearing witness to her, he heard her and was there for her because that was all you could do during a fall apart.
But God, it pained him to see how she suffered. Pained him and focused him, Lash's face gathering like a ghost taking physical form in John's mental eye. As she screamed and screamed, he vowed vengeance until his heart beat not blood, but the need for revenge.
And then Xhex took a series of big breaths. And a couple more.
"I think I'm done with that," she said roughly.
He waited a moment to make sure. When she nodded, he took out his pad and wrote quickly.
As he flashed the page to her, her eyes went to the writing and it took her a couple of tries to get the gist.
"Can I wash my face first?"
He nodded and went over to the stainless-steel sink. Running a stream of cool water, he got a clean towel from a stack and wet it before returning to her. As she held out her hands, he put the damp cloth in her palms and watched as she slowly pressed it against her face. It was hard to see her so frail and he thought back to how he had always known her: strong, powerful, edged-out.
Her hair had grown longer and was starting to curl up at the ends, suggesting that if she didn't cut it, it would have a thick wave in the length. God, he wanted to touch the softness.
His eyes moved down to the table and abruptly popped wide. The sheet had twisted out from under her... and there was a dark spot on the towels that had been wrapped around her hips.
As he inhaled deeply, he caught the scent of fresh blood and was surprised he hadn't before. Then again, he'd been pretty f**king distracted.
Oh... Christ. She was bleeding...
He tapped her lightly on the arm and mouthed, Doc Jane.
Xhex nodded. "Yeah. Let's get this over with."
Frantic, John stalked over to the door of the exam room. Out in the hall, there was a legion of worried faces, with Doc Jane at the head of the group.
"She ready for me?" When John stepped to the side and motioned urgently with his arm, the doctor came forward.
He stopped her, though. With his back to Xhex, he signed, She's injured somewhere. She's bleeding.
Doc Jane put her hand on his shoulder and maneuvered him around in a circle so they traded places. "I know. Why don't you wait outside. I'll take good care of her. Ehlena? Would you mind coming in--I'm going to need a second set of hands."
Rehvenge's shellan went into the exam room and John watched over the doctor's head as the female started washing her hands.
Why isn't Vishous assisting? he signed.
"We're just doing an ultrasound to make sure she's all right. I'm not operating." Doc Jane smiled at him in a professional way--which was oddly frightening. And then the door was shut in his face.
He looked around at the others. All the males were locked out in the hall. Only females in there with her.
His mind started to churn and it didn't take him long to come to a conclusion that couldn't possibly be right.
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder and V's voice was low. "No, you need to stay out here, John. Let go."
That was when he realized his palm had locked on the door handle. Looking down, he told himself to release his hold... and had to send the command twice before his grip slid off the metal.
There was no more screaming. No sounds at all.
He waited. And waited. And paced and waited some more. Vishous lit another hand-rolled. Blay joined him, firing up a Dunhill. Qhuinn drummed a beat out on his thigh. Wrath petted George's head while the golden retriever watched John with kind brown eyes.
Eventually, Doc Jane poked her head around the door and looked at her mate. "I need you."
Vishous put out his cig on the sole of his boot and tucked the butt into his back pocket. "Scrubbing in?"
"Yup."
"Let me go change."
As the male jogged off to the locker room, Doc Jane met John's eyes. "I'm going to take good care of her--"
What's wrong? Why is she bleeding? he signed.
"I'm going to take care of her."
And then the door shut again.
When V came back, he looked every bit the warrior even though he was out of his leathers, and John hoped like hell the guy's competency on the field translated into the medical racket.
Those diamond eyes of his flashed and he clapped John on the shoulder before slipping into the exam room... which evidently was now functioning as an OR.
As the door closed, John felt like doing a little screaming of his own.
Instead, he kept with the walking, going up and down the corridor. Up and down. Up... and down. Eventually, the others dispersed, heading into a nearby classroom, but he couldn't stand to join them.
With each pass by the door that was closed to him, he went wider afield, until the trip took him all the way to exit into the parking area and then back to the locker room. His long legs ate up the distance, turning what was a good fifty yards into a matter of mere inches.