“But that guy shot a gun at you. At me. He needs to be locked up.”
“You don’t understand.”
Merrick stared at his great discovery. His future headliner. Even in the dim light of the car, and with the strain on her face, her blonde wig lopsided on her brown skin, he felt his chest tightening from just looking at her. Her eyes had a haunted look. Two huge mocha pools of pain and trouble. Maybe that guy was her husband, or a boyfriend. He’d heard of how victims of abuse were often unwilling to report their abusers.
“Okay, I get it, you don’t want to press charges. But I do. He shot up my car, and my insurance won’t pay if I don’t get a police report.” Merrick said as he continued to exceed the speed limit on th
e windy roads on his way to town.
“Please, don’t go to the sheriff, I’m begging you.”
She was crying now, and Merrick felt like a heel. He didn’t want to make her cry. Whatever the deal was with the guy, she was clearly unstable. She was so talented, but if she was a nutcase, he’d have to pass. What a waste.
“Look, you can stay in the car if you want. I’m not asking you to talk to them.”
“No, please, you don’t understand.” Tears flooded down her eyes.
“I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to go to the sheriff?”
“Because that was the sheriff.”
Chapter Four
She came to, uncertain. Head throbbing. Cold. Where am I? Her eyes focused and she saw that she was in a car. A man sat beside her. Who is he? Where are we going? A tree branch brushed against the side of the car as they inched along, scenting the air with the smell of pine. The lights from the car bounced back off the thick cloud of fog covering the road and caught the planes of the man’s handsome face. He leaned forward, peering at both sides of the road. Was he looking for something?
The back of her head throbbed. Her hand went up to rub away the pain. Something was in the way. A clump of soft curls. It slid off into her hand, startling her. It was just a wig. She held it in front of her a moment, then let it fall into her lap. The pain was back. Worse than before. Her fingertips returned. Too tender to touch, but too tender not to touch. She found the spot and pulled her fingers quickly away. She looked at her hands. Why was she wearing gloves? In the dim light inside the car, she saw that the gloves were stained.
She held her gloved hand in front in the light, turning slowly around. What’s going on? She turned towards the man. He was wiping away condensation from the inside of the windshield with his elbow.
She placed her hand in front of him. “What’s wrong with my hands?” she asked. Her voice was not hers. Unfamiliar. The man’s eyes grew wide and she saw him open his mouth to form words. The pain exploded, and her arm dropped in his lap. His hand reached for her, and for a moment she felt his strength. Then she knew no more.
~~*~~
At the sight of the blood on her hand, Merrick almost ran off the road. He slammed on the brakes as she collapsed, then got out and raced around to the passenger door to help her back up. When he turned on the overhead cabin light, he saw the blood at the base of her skull. He tried to wake her up, but she was unconscious.
His heart raced. He didn’t understand. When had she been hurt? Then he remembered the shot against her window. But he’d spoken to her afterwards. She’d convinced him to take her to his place. How was it possible?
He pushed the car door all the way open so he could get better access to her. It was pitch dark, save for the lights from his car. Leaning her carefully forward, he used the overhead light to get a better look at her wound. Bile rose in his throat. How much blood had she lost?
Moving her ever so slightly to see her wound in the light, he groaned when something glinted. As he looked closer, his stomach dropped. Something that looked like glass poked out from the dark ooze. He looked back at her window. It had a huge crack in it, and some of the glass was missing. Some of it was in the back of her neck.
His hand went over his mouth and he muttered a curse. Stepping back out onto the street, his paced and tried to control his emotions even as his chest tightened with guilt. She needed to go to a hospital, but the nearest one was in Litton, two hours away. Maybe there was an urgent care facility or something?
His fishing cabin, if he could find it, was only minutes away, and his caretakers’ house as well. He’d take her there. Hadn’t Joann said on her resume that she was a retired nurse? He reached in his pocket for his phone, to let them know he was coming, but it wasn’t there. Had he left it at the bar? He checked his jacket in the backseat and all over the car. He didn’t have it.
He’d take the girl to his caretakers, assuming he could find the house, and then they’d know what to do. It was the only chance he had to make things right.
He used his jacket to prop the unconscious girl so she leaned forward. He couldn’t risk pushing the glass any deeper. Getting back in the car, he drove on, determined to find what he was looking for. He’d only been out to the cabin a few times before writing up his offer, so his memory was vague, and there was no cell phone and no GPS.
When he passed a house with a homemade mailbox made of mosaics, relief flooded through him. “Yes,” he said, so happy to spot a familiar landmark. The mosaic artist’s house was just down the street from his cabin. When he spotted the ornate iron gate to his property, he thanked God, but he kept going. He needed to get to the caretakers’ house.
He knew where they lived, because he’d purchased the house next door to his for them to live in so they could be at his beck and call. When he pulled into their dirt driveway, a security light came on. The fog wasn’t as thick now and he could see the lights in the house going on. He laid on the horn, hoping they’d recognize him sitting in the strange car and know there was an emergency, and that they wouldn’t come out with shotguns blazing. He’d had enough gunfire for one day.
“Merrick?” Charlie said, his hands raking his hair as he rushed out of the house in a bathrobe, shotgun by his side. “What are you doing here? Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”
“I’ve got an injured girl in here,” Merrick said as he jumped out of the car and ran around to the passenger side.
“Joann!” Charlie yelled, but she was already on her way. Joann ran to the car and took charge.