Goddamn it. If that fucker had hit her, I was gonna hit him back. My fists clenched and I slowed my pace. Making a wide arc, I approached from the side of her good arm and stopped three feet away. “Hey, Nic.”
Her back straightened but she kept her face hidden behind her hair and a huge pair of sunglasses. She didn’t say shit.
I looked out at the ocean. “Nice day for the beach.”
No response.
“You’re not workin’ today?” I couldn’t remember what she did but Randy, the prick, complained about her working all the time. When she didn’t answer, I hopped up on the wall next to her and she flinched. “Hey hey hey, darlin’. Nothin’ doin’, just sittin’ a spell. That all right?” I tried to look at her face but she ducked her head and shrugged one shoulder. I glanced at her arm. There was no blood or bone jutting out, but the way she was holding it, something was wrong. She looked skittish as hell so I didn’t push. “Good day to catch some sun.” I scanned the beach for any sign of Randy.
She didn’t answer and I didn’t see him, so I started counting sets. The waves were shit and whatever the hell was wrong with her, I didn’t want to deal. I’d bet my bank account it was tied up around Randy. Veteran or not, he was an asshole.
I was starting to lose patience with the waiting game when she shifted slightly and I felt her eyes dart toward me.
“I think he’s dead,” she barely whispered.
I pushed my sunglasses up and turned. Motherfucker. “Take your sunglasses off,” I demanded.
She gingerly pulled them down her face.
Anger surged. “What the hell did he do to you?” The whole left side of her face was a mess—eye swollen, lip split, cheek bruised and purpling. She quickly hung her head but I caught her chin. “Oh, no you don’t.” I held her face in place, surveying the damage. “What the fuck did he use? A goddamn two-by-four?” No fist caused this. I was going to kill him if he wasn’t dead already.
“I fell,” she said nervously.
“Bullshit.”
She pulled her chin free. “It’s true. I fell into the doorframe.”
“Fell or was pushed? And what do you mean, dead?”
She looked away. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
I rubbed my hand over my face. “Cops after you?”
“No…I don’t think so.”
I pushed off the wall then reached for her. “C’mon. First things first, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She leaned back, clutching her arm tight.
The look of fear in her eyes went straight to my gut. “I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’, I promise.” I put my hands on her small waist. “C’mon, let me help you down.”
She didn’t fight me but when her feet hit the ground, her leg gave out and she fell into my chest. She let out a small cry of pain and my arms were around her in a nanosecond. The scent of jasmine broadsided me.
“Shh, shh, I gotcha.” Jesus, she smelled incredible. Sunshine and innocence and sweet jasmine mingled around in my head and threatened to take hold.
“Sorry,” she breathed out, her voice laced with pain.
Something stirred in my chest but I shut it down and my former military training kicked in. I went into medic mode. “Can you walk?”
“Mm-hm.” Her face strained, she cautiously put her foot down and her hand landed on my stomach for support.
The second she touched me, I forgot all my training. I stared at her small, beaten body and anger ripped through my veins at the thought of someone doing this to her. “You lyin’?”
She panted through a few short breaths then shook her head.
“Nic?” I growled, two seconds away from picking her up.
Her hand slid to my side and trembling fingers dug into my waist. “Yeah?”
I vowed then and there that Randy fucking Carter was going to pay for this. Forcing my voice to a calm I didn’t feel, I gently wrapped my hand around her good arm. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart. If you don’t think anythin’ is broken, find your balance.”
“Nothing’s broken.” Determination in her voice, she inhaled and tested her weight on her leg. “I can walk.”
“Good girl.” Without thinking, I stroked her hair.
Startled, she looked up and big blue eyes full of mistrust met my gaze.
Everything went still. The bullshit chaos in my head, grief, anger, it all went quiet like the flip of a switch—a fucking jasmine switch.
Forcing myself to move back, I grabbed her duffel. “C’mon.”
She took an unsteady step.
“Nic?” It was everything I could do not to pick her up.