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“No!” Sig shouted quickly, not wanting her to call the fucking local Chief of Pigs. “No. Don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on yet. If she’s... If she belongs to... them, then we need to keep her location on the DL. Pigs find out... They’ll go up there, tryin’ to arrest someone... Those motherfuckers might figure out where she is. Even if they arrest the one that... Even if they do, there’s a shitload more of ‘em. Let’s just do what we can first. Then figure it all out.”
“Sig...”
“Goddamn it, Stel. She needs to get cleaned up an’ dressed. I’d do it but...”
“But you shouldn’t touch her,” Stella finished, her eyes troubled. “Yeah... Okay... Let’s get her to the house and I’ll run her a bath and do what I can to help. But maybe she needs to go to the hospital.” Stella raised her eyebrows at Sig. “For... you know... one of those kits...”
“What kit?” A pregnancy kit? He was thinking it was too late for that.
“For evidence.” Stella tilted her head in a silent signal.
Sig picked up what she was putting down. But, Jesus fuck, it was way too late for that, too. Stella just hadn’t seen the obvious evidence yet. Not with the way Red was curled around her own belly. “Know what fuckin’ happened.”
“Yes,” Stella said carefully, “but to pinpoint who...”
“Sure as fuck she knows who.”
“But... proof’s needed for...”
“No. It’s not. She may be carryin’ the proof.”
Stella’s eyes went wide again and she stared at Red, who wasn’t saying a word, just lying there with her eyes closed. Almost like she was wishing the floor would swallow her whole and she’d disappear.
He got it. There’d been plenty of days he felt like that, too.
“If she’s... She definitely needs to go to the ER then... And get the—”
Sig finally exploded. All this jawing wasn’t helping Red. “Stel, just need you to fuckin’ help her. Goddamn it. That’s it. No more. Ain’t gettin’ the fuckin’ pigs involved yet. I’m gonna handle it.”
“Sig...”
“Stella.”
“You don’t know what’s all involved here, do you? Quite possibly...” She threw her hands up in frustration. “Are you going to risk going back to prison for a stranger if you decide to handle this on your own?”
Sig frowned at the silent woman on his floor. “She ain’t a stranger.”
“Wait. You know her?”
He paused and pressed his fingers to his temple, rubbing it. The pain shooting through his brain was killing him.
Hell, everything was killing him.
And Stella asking all of these questions he didn’t have answers for was making it worse.
Until Red talked, they wouldn’t know shit. But what he did know was he needed to get her cleaned up and food in her belly.
Stella sighed loudly, then asked, “You got food up in this pig sty?”
“Some. More downstairs, if we need it.”
She nodded. “Okay, we won’t move her to the house. Not until we can figure out what the hell happened. Go fill your tub. I’m going to stay with her, try getting her up. Once she’s in the tub, I need you to cook something light. Nothing heavy. She needs fluids, too. More than water. Like Gatorade or something similar. You have some, or do the boys have some downstairs?”
“Downstairs, I think. For their fuckin’ hangovers.” And his, too, but he left that part out.
Stella’s lips flattened out. “Go. Go get the tub running. Then go down and grab some and also grab whatever you can cook. You hear me?”
Sig stared at Red for a moment.
“Sig...”
He ripped his gaze from the woman who he had no doubt was broken inside and out and glanced at Stella. “Yeah.”
Stella gave him a nod. “Go.”
He nodded back and headed into the bathroom, now glad it had a tub, which he’d told Trip was useless in a bachelor’s apartment. But Trip had said he got a good deal on it and to suck it up, it was only a fucking tub. “Just fuckin’ live with it,” was his final say on it.
Sig shook his head as he started the water, making sure it was hot and squeezed some body wash into it, making suds.
Red was probably going to need more than one long soak to get all the dirt off her. But he’d leave that to Stella.
While he’d handle the rest.
Chapter Four
Autumn blinked. Then blinked again.
All she saw was carpet that needed a good vacuuming. And a pair of dirty boots.
Those boots belonged to the man who captured her in the woods.
He’d caught her escaping.
She had finally been free and now she wasn’t.
She was never going to get free.
Never again.
She just wanted to die. To get it all over with.
Those boots suddenly disappeared.
Then a hand brushed the hair away from her face again and it was surprisingly gentle. She hadn’t been touched like that in a long time.
Every touch she received in the last year had been harsh. Painful. Unwanted.
