Jenn bringsus a blanket and informs me that Ethan is checking the rest of the building. It appeared empty when we arrived—her little brother most likely the reason. No one voluntarily remained in reach ofThe Coldblood. He had earned the name with his reputation.
With the blanket and my arms around her, Denielle's breathing has evened out, and I watch her rest. Jenn takes position in the corner near the door, giving us space and typing on the phone Paycen had left her.
"My medic is about to pull up. You should move her downstairs. There are several bedrooms," Jenn announces just loud enough for me to hear.
Bedrooms? What is this place?
Just as we hit the stairs, Ethan comes into view. "You will not believe what I found." He looks at me, but Jenn answers.
"Spit it out. We don't have much time. My package will be here with the medic."
"Liberman."
"Excuse me?" My steps falter, and I pivot with Denielle in my arms. I peer down at her, finding her focus on me.
Ethan shakes his head, the crooked smirk we know from him back. "He's all coked out with some chick in one of the bedrooms. Smells like he hasn't left that room since he went missing last week."
My brows shoot up.
"Mara kept him locked away until her plan was completed. She probably would've blamed it on him in the end," Jenn deadpans.
I automatically scan Denielle's features and have to clench my jaw to not growl at her to watch her mouth. How she can be so caring and kind one moment and stone cold without remorse or emotion the next is disturbing.
"We'll have the medic drop Liberman at the nearest hospital and call his mommy." Jenn smirks. "Let's have her deal with him."
"What if he talks?" Ethan questions Jenn's decision.
"If Mara kept him as drugged up as I'm assuming, he either won't remember, or no one will believe him. We'll drop his whore off with him. It'll solidify hisunbelievability."
While they formulate their plan of action, I carry Denielle the rest of the way downstairs.
The place is outfitted with multiple bedrooms containing a twin bed, chair, and dresser.
Not more than a minute after I lower Denielle on the mattress, a man in an EMT outfit strides in. Jenn's medic is an actual paramedic with his own ambulance. How far do the Davis connections reach?
"My name is Josh," he says as if we're doing introductions at a dinner party.
"Marcus Baxter," I reply stiffly.
Josh gives me a curt smile and sets his bag next to the bed on the floor. Hesitantly, I take a step back and let him get to work. When he pulls out a syringe, my hand clamps down on his shoulder. He glances at me, unaffected. "This will take some of the pain away and keep her calm. I need to clean and stitch her cuts up."
"Marcus," Denielle whispers hoarsely, and I scan her tired face. "It's fine. Jenn trusts him."
I want to agree with her, but worry clogs my throat. For the remainder of Josh doing his job, I lean against the far wall, arms crossed over my chest and my fingers wrapped around my biceps. When Denielle winces and squeezes her eyes shut, I'm ready to rip Josh's head off, but my brave girlfriend just shakes her head. "I'm okay."
Girlfriend.There is no doubt in my mind that she is just that and will be more one day.
Jenn flits in and out of the room to check on us. At one point, she pulls me into the hallway, informing me that she'll stay back to clean up. The warehouse belongs to someone who Airbnb’s it to criminals needing a place in LA. That's all she would reveal.
Her ensuring to erase all traces of what happened here tells me this is a player she doesn't want to piss off or mess with. I don't care as long as Denielle and I leave as soon as we can.
Two hours later,we're in the back seat of the Escalade with Ethan in the front. Denielle is nestled under my arm. Her hair is still a tangled mess, but her face and wounds are cleaned up. Once the blood was washed off and the small head wound cleaned, all that was left was the bruise from where Mara hit her. I made Jenn swear Paycen would seek the appropriate punishment for that.
"I let Lilly know we're on the way," Ethan declares as he pulls out of the warehouse gates.
"Is Lilly okay?" Denielle peers up at me. Of course her concern is for her friend, not for what she endured because of her friendship with Lilly.
"She's confused and upset, but mostly she's worried about you," I tell her, interlacing my fingers with hers in my lap.