Spirited 1 (26 page)

“There’s nothing to report.” Shaking more from the fear of going to the police station than from the attack itself, she heard herself babble, “He wouldn’t have gotten away with much even if he had taken it. Gah! My life is more cursed than usual. I mean, there’s hardly any money in it. I can’t believe this. Why would anyone want to steal it?”

“It’s the city,” Samuel said. “People rob the homeless here.”

The thought sickened her. Or maybe that was due to the pavement swimming before her eyes. She dropped her clutch and reached for her head with her free hand.

“Jules, you’ve got a pretty nasty cut. Why don’t we talk about this in a minute? Lie back and let me help you.” Dev cupped one hand behind her head and helped her recline. The cement sidewalk felt cool against her head. “Do you hurt anywhere else?”

“No,” she replied, then looked at Samuel. “Thank you. I think you just saved my life.”

His dirty cheeks mottled darker but he didn’t reply.

Dev’s concerned face hovered above hers while he ran his hands over her head, neck, shoulders, and arms, checking her for other injuries. His gentle touch was light and impersonal. Through the examination she watched his face.

He appeared to be lip-synching an old En Vogue song, popular in the early nineties. He mouthed, “Before you can read me, you’ve got to learn how to see me.”

Or maybe she was dreaming, because the next thing she knew, she opened her eyes to see a paramedic shining a light into them.

CHAPTER 13

“W
HAT DO YOU
mean Jules was mugged?” Seth stomped on his brake and glanced up at the green traffic light, ignoring the angry sound of horns blaring behind him. He made a U-turn and headed back up Atlantic Avenue.

He’d called Jones to give him the update about Aimee-Lynn’s pregnancy when Jones blindsided him with the news that Jules was injured in a botched mugging.

“Like I said,” Jones explained, “I was headed to the country club when I saw her. Someone taught the girl to fight. She threw a cup of coffee in his face and nailed him in the knee with a deliberate kick. When he kept coming, she threw her purse like a hatchet. I think she broke the bastard’s nose. It was beautiful.”

The admiration in Jones’s voice surprised him. Seth asked, “Where were you when you saw this?”

“Driving down your street. I blew through a red light to get to her.” Jones paused, then added, “I flipped on my siren to scare him off, but he didn’t care.”

“Jules was home when this happened?”

“Not quite, about a half-block down. She’d just come out of an alley.”

“Sonofabitch! I just passed that part of Atlantic Avenue. How did I not see her?”

“You were here?” Jones repeated as if confused, then continued before Seth had a chance to answer. “Sam, the homeless guy, gave chase but her mugger got away. Right now the EMTs are here trying to convince her to go to the hospital, but she’s refusing. She keeps asking if they can just stitch her up here. Says she’s gotta go to work.”

“Of course she does.” Seth cursed under his breath as he found himself behind two cars driving under the speed limit. “I’m on my way to you right now. Hang on a minute.”

Even with his cell on hands-free mode, Seth needed to focus on the road. The drivers of the two cars in front of him were leaning out their windows yelling to one another, paying more attention to each other than to the street.

Normally Seth hated driving police vehicles, but today he would have killed to have a siren and blue lights going. He pressed his palm to the horn again and held it there until the drivers made room for him.

One car dropped back. Seth snaked his Honda between the two cars before he zoomed through a yellow light. Once through the intersection, he let his foot off the gas marginally and continued his conversation with Jones. “How badly is she injured?”

“It’s not life-threatening but . . .” Jones’s voice trailed away. Probably because he saw Seth at the same moment Seth saw him.

Spotting a space, Seth slid his car into it and threw it into park, barely remembering to yank his keys from the ignition before he jumped out. He clicked off the phone and hurried across the street to where Jules sat in the back of an open ambulance.

Jules’s red ponytail hung askew, wisps of hair blew into her eyes, and she kept rubbing her skinned knee through the tear in her jeans. One sleeve of her sweater dangled limply, split from elbow to shoulder, revealing her bloody, bandaged arm.

Seth broke out in an icy sweat.

“No, I’m fine, really,” Jules said to the EMT. Although trembling uncontrollably, her voice didn’t waver as she spoke and she seemed determined to have her way. “I can’t go to the hospital right now. The shop opens in two and a half hours. Can’t you just stitch me up? I promise I’ll get a tetanus shot tomorrow when I go to the doctor.”

“Miss, you
need
to go to the hospital. Now.” Seth’s blood chilled at the EMT’s words. The man’s blue jumpsuit uniform bore the name Jeffers. His jaw tight, he said through clenched teeth, “I cannot stitch you up out here, and until you get those stitches, you’re going to continue to bleed. I realize you have a job to do but so do I. It would make my job much easier if you would stop fighting me and get into the ambulance. The police can get your statement at the hospital.”

The moment the EMT said the word
police
, Jules blanched. Panic widened her eyes. Seth knew her ex—a cop—had done a number on her, but until that moment, he’d had no idea how much. She wasn’t just leery of police; she was downright terrified of them.

It made Seth want to know exactly what good ol’ Billy had done to elicit that kind of reaction. And beat the crap out of him for it.

Seth wasn’t surprised when Jules repeated, “I’m fine, really.”

She wasn’t, but she would be. Seth would make certain of it.

He called out to her, “Hi, Juliana.”

She glanced over at him and smiled. A weak, grateful smile that warmed him in ways it shouldn’t have.

“Seth, please tell this nice gentleman I’ll go to the doctor later.”

Okay, he understood the fear of the police, but why the hospital? He could fight her or take a less combative approach. He opted for keeping her calm.

Turning to the EMT, Seth said, “It’s all right, Jeffers. I’ve got it from here. I’ll get her seen and make sure she doesn’t overdo it before she gets her stitches. Thank you for your help.”

In no time, EMT Jeffers had her signing a Refusal of Care form and cleaned up his mess. Seth helped Jules down from the ambulance.

They’d taken two steps when she jumped. “Wait!” She turned around and snatched her purse from the floor of the vehicle and tucked it securely under her arm. She turned back to him, smiling. “Thank you, Seth.”

“It’s my pleasure, Jules. Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

Seth ushered Jules to his car and held open her door for her. Catching his partner’s eye, he wondered at the expression on Jones’s face. Seth started to walk toward his partner but the man waved him on. Jones lifted his cell in the air and tapped on it. Moments later, Seth’s phone buzzed.

Glancing down, he read the text.
Take care of her. Am finishing up here. She doesn’t want to file a report. Not much left to do. Hart has probably left TCC but will check and meet you back at the station.

Rather than waste his time tapping out a response, Seth just nodded. When Jones returned the gesture, Seth climbed into the driver’s seat next to Jules.

Although normally fair-skinned, she appeared paler than usual. Her lips flattened in a grimace of pain. Automatically he reached over and checked her white bandage, which had a large red stain growing on the outer side of her arm between her elbow and shoulder.

Despite guessing the response he’d receive, he asked, “Where to now?”

“I really need to go work,” Jules said, relief evident in her voice.

Her stomach rumbled.

He nearly grinned. He’d been hoping for a way to steer her in the direction of the hospital without technically resorting to kidnapping. Still, given the pinched look of pain she couldn’t quite keep off of her face, he’d have done it if he had to.

“Sounds like what you need is an early lunch.” Seth smiled. “I’ve got an idea. How about I take you someplace with friendly service and great food and give you a shot of what you really need after a morning like yours. We can talk about what happened along the way.”

Tears sprung to her eyes and she blinked repeatedly. Looking down at her hands, she said, “I can’t believe I’m shaking.”

“I can’t believe that’s all you’re doing, precious. You’re amazing.” He stroked a finger down her chilled cheek. When she gave him a noncommittal shrug, he added, “Jones told me what you did. Most people would be crying or screaming by now. Hell, you fought back.” His stomach shriveled. His hand shook. Still, he didn’t stop touching her. He needed to reassure himself she still sat there, next to him. “You’re incredibly brave.”

“Th-thank you.” She snapped her gaze to his. Her wide, emerald eyes swam, but not a single tear fell. Jules went quiet for a moment before clenching her jaw again. “You promise you’ll take me to work after we eat? If not, I’m getting out of this car and walking to the shop.”

Despite her flippant tone, he could see the fear in her eyes. Feel the fine tremors racking her body. She’d been terrified. And still she’d fought.

Pride, warm and vast, spread through him.

“April and Big Jim are counting on me.” Shying away from his touch, she twisted in the seat to face him. “I can’t let them down because of this.” She gestured to her injured arm. The stain on her bandage was darker than before. And larger.

Starting the engine, he chose his words carefully. “I promise you’ll get to work before the store opens.”

 • • • 

“W
HAT IN THE
hell have you done?” He balled his fist and punched Jack in his burned, puffy face twice before he reigned in his temper. Blood poured from the bastard’s nose and right eye. No less than he deserved.

Jack fell back against the piling, whimpering.

Panting, the smells of copper, salt, coffee, and fear hit his senses, ratcheting up his fury. He flexed his hands, itching to throw another punch.

Instead he listened to the echo of waves crash against the shore from where they hid, ensconced in shadows beneath the Seventeenth Street pier. A sharp contrast to the rage thundering a tattoo between his ears and Jack’s pathetic pleas for clemency. “Please, you said we needed to do something. You
said
—” His lisp grew more pronounced in his distress.

“I said, ‘Don’t be stupid!’” He grabbed Jack by the shoulders, shaking him until his head wobbled like a rag doll and thunked against the aged wooden column. “She can identify you,
asshole
! It’s been two hours and already every cop in this city is out looking for a thug in a blue jogging suit who speaks with a lisp.
Thound
like anyone you know?”

He shoved Jack against the splintered wood, not caring when a stream of blood trickled from behind his left ear where his head had struck the piling.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Jack dropped to his knees in the sand like a supplicant begging forgiveness. “She didn’t even know what I really wanted. She thought I was after her purse. I can still do it. I can get it, please!”

“You
can’t
get it!” he said between clenched teeth. “That damned detective will be watching her now. He showed up on the scene before you even called to tell me what an utter fuck-up you truly are.”

Jack groveled nonsensically as waves splashed over him. Crouched in the sand as he was, the water doused his pants up to the hem of his sweatshirt.

The little pissant would roll and confess everything within minutes of being arrested. Hell, the wimp had cried like a baby torn from the breast when Aimee-Lynn died.

Only fear and the need to save his own worthless ass had kept him quiet. All that would change if Jack were arrested. Given that the coward had no place to hide, it wouldn’t be long before he was caught.

I’ve come too close to lose it all now.

He removed his gloves and shoved them into his pockets, then pushed up his sleeves.

Above, the pier creaked and groaned as shop owners opened their doors for the day’s business. Jack flinched, casting a fearful eye heavenward.

Little did he know, the true danger came from the ocean lapping at his knees.

 • • • 

J
ULES DUG A
fingernail beneath the bandage and scratched lightly, careful to avoid both her stitches and the tender part of her body. Gah! Why was it a body felt great until the moment a bandage was put on?

A shot of what you really need.

It was a good thing Seth had stayed out of sight at the hospital. She’d been so furious that he’d tricked her into going there, she might have been tempted to give him a shot of something in his backside.

Still, she could only be so angry with him. He’d been right to make her go. The injury, which she hadn’t been able to see,
was
bad enough to warrant sixteen stitches. And a tetanus shot. Where her arm didn’t itch and throb from the assault, it ached from the shot. Thank heavens the nurse did it all in the same arm.