I could take her to the clubhouse.
But I got the feeling that she would feel on-display there, and even more guilty when she saw Finn and Louana recovering from their injuries.
“Wanna go back to the hotel?” I asked. “We will bring Dezi and Voss to hang out in the lobby to keep an eye. But, for now, I think we’re safe enough to go there.”
“Okay,” she said, sniffling hard, trying to pull it back together.
We rode the creaky elevator back up to the lobby where we could see Seth out front with a crowd of kids checking out his bike while Dezi and Voss stood back looking a little green at the idea of the kids maybe wanting to ask them questions.
“Thank fuck,” Voss rumbled as we emerged.
“We took a couple trips to get the bikes while we waited,” Dezi said, waving toward mine.
“Appreciate it. We are going to head to the hotel if you two want to come and hang for a bit, just until we’re sure shit has blown over.”
“Got nothing to do,” Voss said, shrugging.
He’d been used to long, tedious work. Because, apparently, he’d been a human junkyard dog at his last job. Just walking around to make sure no one jumped the fence and stole shit.
“I’ll stop and get donuts,” Dezi offered. “You want donuts, don’t you?” he asked, nodding at Abigail.
“I think you want donuts,” she said, finding a small smile, despite the shit day she’d had. “But I’ll have one.”
“Probably want some late dinner too,” Dezi said as we moved toward my bike.
We managed to get a room at the hotel with a river view, but a floor higher than the last one. With one king-sized bed.
“Come on, love,” I murmured, pulling her with me into the bathroom.
I had nothing to change her into, but she had to get out of the torn clothes, so I could clean her up. The robe would have to do until I could get someone to come by and drop off some fresh clothes.
“Sorry, baby,” I said when she hissed and winced when I started to pull off her clothes, leaving her standing there in nothing but a pair of panties.
“Everything hurts,” she admitted, giving me a tired look through her heavy-lidded eyes.
“Yeah, I bet. These bruises are just started to come in,” I said, looking at her arms and knees, then turning her to find some bruises on her shoulders and hips as well. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to one of the ones on her shoulder. “I’m so fucking sorry, Abigail.”
“It’s not your fault,” she insisted, voice small, tired.
I imagine after all the adrenaline wore off, she was dead tired from it and all the fear and uncertainty and pain.
“Sh, it’s okay,” I said when there was a knock at the door that had her damn near jumping out of her skin. “It’s probably Dezi,” I added. “Sit. I’ll see what he wants,” I told her, moving out and closing the door behind me.
“She okay?” he asked, handing me a box from the Italian place, packed with what looked like four separate meals in their little aluminum containers. Along with two drinks and a bakery box. The donuts, I imagined.
“Banged up and tired, but yeah.”
“Got this,” he said, holding out a bag. “Creams and bandages, ibuprofen, that kinda shit,” he added, shrugging.
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. You and Voss going to be able to get along down there tonight?”
“If we keep the whole lobby between us,” he said, smirking.
“I will figure out a plan after I clean her up, so we can get you guys some relief. Or move the whole thing somewhere else.”
“The night shift girl is cute. I’m good where I am,” he said, eyes dancing as he moved off.
“Dezi brought us some food and stuff to clean you up with,” I told her, grabbing a washcloth and running it under the hot water with one hand as I laid out the other supplies. “This isn’t going to be pleasant,” I added, seeing all the bits of gravel and dirt in the cuts on her arms and legs.
“It will be better than what could have happened tonight,” she said, shrugging.
She was a trooper through my ministrations, only starting to jump and hiss when I’d been working on her for a solid fifteen minutes.
“I think this is good enough,” I told her, giving her thigh a squeeze as I grabbed the triple antibiotic to start smearing it over her liberally before wrapping her with the gauze. “He even grabbed some crackable ice packs if you want them for your bruises,” I said as I helped her into her robe.
“I’m okay,” Abigail said, wincing at her reflection as she followed me out into the room.
“Ibuprofen then,” I insisted, knowing the ache was only going to grow through the night. “Baby,” I called when she took her pills, then accepted one of the meals, sitting off the side of the bed with her plastic fork in her hand, staring off at the wall. “You okay?”