“Y-y-you p-promise?”
Cade took over then, his expression one of utter gravity. “We only want to help you. You’re hurt. You need medical attention. Let us help you.”
She closed her eyes, and for a moment, Merrick thought she’d passed out. But then she opened them again, wide and troubled.
“Okay,” she whispered. “My hands hurt.”
Cade reached for one, being careful not to move too suddenly. He grimaced as he inspected the deep cuts. “I suppose they do.” He gingerly pulled a sliver of glass from one of her fingers and flung the shard away.
She started to shift, but grimaced. It seemed her every movement caused her pain. Impatient and unwilling to watch her suffer, Merrick simply reached in, curled his arms underneath her and plucked her from the cabinet.
Her entire body went rigid, but he didn’t give her an opportunity to protest. He started for the back door where he and Cade had come in.
“I’ll call Hank’s manager and have him come in and do cleanup so Hank won’t have a mess in the morning,” Cade said as he followed behind. “I’ll make sure we have someone out to replace the broken glass.”
Merrick carried his slight bundle to the Hummer and eased her into the back seat. He climbed in beside her and tossed the keys to Cade. He wasn’t taking any chances she would get any crazy notions and bail out of a moving vehicle before they got to Dallas’s clinic.
She wilted into the heated seat and sagged precariously to the side. The man sitting beside her caught her and eased her into his side so she could lean on him.
The two men scared the daylights out of her, and yet, at the same time, there was something about them that made her stupid. It was evident she’d lost all sense because she was blindly putting her trust into these two men. Two huge men who could easily snap her like a twig if they had a mind to.
And here she was alone in a vehicle with them. They could take her anywhere at all. No one would know differently. She didn’t even know who she was, so how would anyone else know?
Despair filled her heart, aching and heavy. His grip tightened around her as they sped down the damp streets. The rain had stopped, but the cold was settling in for the long haul.
She began to shiver, not because she was too cold, but because she no longer had any control over her composure. She tried to stop shaking, but it seemed the harder she tried to make it stop, the harder she shook.
The man beside her cursed and then pulled her onto his lap. He wrapped a huge leather jacket around her body and put both his arms around her in an effort to keep her warm.
The jacket smelled heavenly. Warm. Spicy. So very masculine. It reminded her of something. She frowned. The fleeting remembrance was gone before she could place it. But it felt so very familiar to her. Comforting. It was a good memory that had been triggered, and those were so few and far between that she wanted to weep for losing it.
For just a moment, she forgot her paralyzing fear. Forgot that this man could harm her, that she shouldn’t trust anyone. She felt…safe. Here in his arms, pressed to his massive chest.
She could feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart. She absorbed his calm like an addict needing a fix.
None of it made sense. She was sitting on the lap of a guy who looked like he could be a drug dealer or, at the very least, a gang member.
He was a mountain of a man, solidly muscled, bulging arms and a massive chest. Both arms were tattooed, and his hair was long and unruly. Everything about him screamed dangerous, and yet his touch was gentle, his words were soothing, and he looked at her with kindness and compassion in his eyes.
“What’s your name?” she found herself whispering.
He stiffened. In surprise? Then he touched a strand of her hair, trailing his finger downward.
“Merrick. What’s yours?”
Pain flashed through her head. She raised a hand to press into her temple in an effort to alleviate the excruciating pressure.
“I don’t know,” she said in agitation. “I don’t know!”
“Shhh,” he soothed. “It’ll come back. You’re just scared and under an enormous amount of stress. You’re cold and hungry and in shock. I’d be surprised if you did know your name at this point.”
Relief took hold. He was right, of course. Everything would be better after she recovered. Once she got warm and had something to eat. Maybe even some sleep. Then she’d know who she was and who had done this to her.
C H A P T E R T H R E E
DALLAS CARRINGTON STEPPED OUT OF the exam room, a grim expression on his face. Cade pushed off the wall where he and Merrick had been waiting. They’d put in the call to their friend, and he’d met them at his clinic in a matter of minutes.
Though Dallas ran a walk-in clinic in a poorer neighborhood, he also acted as Merrick’s personal physician and often traveled to Merrick’s fights. He’d monitored Merrick’s recovery after his knee injury a year ago.
Cade, Merrick and Dallas had gone to high school together and had remained steadfast friends since their childhood.
“The son of a bitch who did this to her should be shot on sight,” Dallas bit out in a pissed-off tone.
“Tell us,” Merrick growled.
Dallas ran a hand through his hair and blew out his breath. “Hell, this is a mess. I probably shouldn’t tell you anything, but this is hardly an official medical visit. The problem is, she doesn’t have a clue who she is or what happened to her. She’s deeply traumatized, and since she consented for you two to bring her in, I’m considering you the closest things she has to relatives.”
“She really doesn’t know who she is?” Cade asked skeptically.
Dallas nodded. “It’s deeply upsetting to her, and it sets off another round of panic every time she tries to remember. Now, I don’t know a lot about amnesia. It’s mostly bullshit you find in fiction novels or movies. I’ve never actually seen a clinical case of it, though I’ve read a few case histories on the subject. I don’t know if hers is because of a head injury or if it was trauma-induced and her mind has shut down in order to protect her from the horror of what happened to her.”
“What exactly happened?” Merrick demanded.
Dallas held his hand up. “I’ll get to that. If it’s memory loss caused by an injury to the brain, then it could be permanent. Hard to say. If it’s trauma-induced, it could be temporary. Hard as hell to say since there really isn’t a medical diagnosis for not wanting to remember.”
“It all sounds damn crazy,” Cade muttered.
“Just get to the part where you tell us what happened to her and how badly she’s injured,” Merrick cut in impatiently.
“Someone beat the hell out of her,” Dallas said bluntly. “That’s the least of it.”
Cade shot him an incredulous look. “What the fuck? That’s the least of it?”
“Your girl has been through the ringer,” Dallas said quietly. “This bastard beat the hell out of her. He raped her. And he shot her. Twice.”
Merrick’s jaw dropped, and then his eyes narrowed to menacing slits. “He shot her? I didn’t see any sign of a gunshot, but then hell, she was a mess. It would have been hard to see over all the other blood.”
“I had to sedate her to examine her,” Dallas said. “She was hysterical the minute I touched her. Look, the law requires a rape kit and for me to report this. I mentioned that to her, and she went ballistic. I was afraid she was going to hurt herself. Oddly enough, she had less issue with me examining her than she did with me reporting this to the police. You even mention the cops and she goes batshit crazy.”
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