Talon (Uncompromising #1)(8)

“Why?” Her voice was thready and weak.

“It stops the bleedin’ and keeps the stitches clean.” I pulled my gloves off. “You got a clean pair of pants?”

Hair falling in her face, her hand shaking, she pressed on her leg while she held her wrist against her chest. “In my bag.”

Watching her from the corner of my eye, I opened her duffel and a handful of loose pictures scattered. Not wanting to bend them, I gathered them up but two fell out. One was a black-and-white photo of Nic as baby with an almost toothless grin. The other had an older couple with Nic standing between them. Her face fuller, her hair all sunshine and light, her smile was bigger than life. She was stunning.

I glanced at the woman in front of me and my chest tightened. “This your folks?” I found a pair of those pants women use to work out in.

Her face pinched, she breathed out of her nose. “Mm hm.”

I hated seeing her in pain. “I can give you somethin’ to take the edge off.”

She shook her head. “Can I stop pressing on this now?”

“Yeah. Let me cover that up.” I threw the pants over my shoulder. Covering a fresh dressing with antibiotic cream, I placed it over the stitches and wrapped her thigh twice with gauze. “Here.” I held out one of the legs of the clean pants so she could step in.

“I can do it.”

“One-handed?”

“I did it yesterday.” With stubborn determination she tugged her shirt down in front of her underwear but otherwise she didn’t budge.

I sighed. “Occasionally the proper Southern manners my mama taught me slip out and I’m the gentleman she raised me to be.” I maintained eye contact. “This is one of those times.”

Despite half her face looking like shit and the fact that I’d just put five large stitches in her, she self-consciously stepped into her pants.

I eased them up past her knees. “Where you from, Siren?”

She pushed my hands away and took over. “Ocala.”

“Your family still there?” I told myself she needed somewhere to go but the thought of her leaving made me want to punch something.

She didn’t answer.

“Only a couple hours’ drive from here,” I commented casually but she still didn’t respond. “Once we get you patched up, you can go home.”

Before I’d even finished my sentence, her entire demeanor changed. Her body went tight, her lips thinned out and she got a determined look on her face. With short, jerky movements, she grabbed her bag and zipped it close. “I can get myself to the clinic. Thanks for the stitches.” She turned toward the door, barely able to put weight on her leg.

“You got a car?” If she did, I doubted she would’ve been on my doorstep.

“I’ll manage.” She hobbled into the store and I followed.

Instead of seeing it for the blessing it was, I was pissed she was walking out. “Clinic’s miles from here.”

“I’ll get a cab.”

I leaned a hip against the front counter and crossed my arms. “Ain’t New York City, darlin’. Cabs don’t wait outside.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“You got any money?” No purse, no wallet in her bag, I didn’t even see a phone when I searched through her shit.

“Thanks for your help.” She’d made it almost to the front door of the shop when Kendall strode in.

“Hey, Nicole.”

I gave Kendall credit, she didn’t even do a double take when she saw Nic’s face.

“Hi,” Nic said wearily.

“Where are you going?” Kendall blocked the door.

Nic’s shoulders slumped. “Can you let me by?”

“Are you going home?”

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t get off on the thought of seeing Kendall square off with someone, but Nic? No fucking way. “Kendall,” I warned.

She glared at me. “If you can’t handle this, I will.”

I shrugged like I didn’t give a shit but in truth, I was never going to let Nic get past the front door. “Nic’s a big girl, she can make her own decisions.”

Kendall flipped the closed sign, locked the shop’s door and zeroed in on Nic. “He has a guest room.”

Shit. “Kendall. My office, now.”

With about as much mothering instinct as a black widow, Kendall pointed Nic to the stool behind the counter. “Sit,” she commanded before waltzing toward my office. I barely got the door closed and she let loose. “You can save your friend’s wife from a murderer but you can’t save that girl from a piece of shit like Randy? What’s wrong, hero? Losing your touch?”

Seriously? She was going to compare the two? When Blaze met Layna, she’d been running scared from her parents’ killer. That fucker had been stalking her for three years. Having a cartel member after you was a little different than domestic abuse. I wasn’t discounting Nic’s plight but if Blaze and I hadn’t stepped in and taken the asshole out, Layna would be dead. I knew Blaze asking André for a security detail for his honeymoon wasn’t a good sign but I pushed the thought away and glared at Kendall. “Fuck off.”