"Where you from, Savannah?"
"Phoenix."
"Long way from home."
"Not far enough," she mutters.
I finish with her left foot and move to the right one. This one's even worse. Deep cut across the ball of her foot, probably from glass. It needs stitches, but I don't tell her that yet.
"You need to go to a hospital," I say instead.
"No." The word comes fast and sharp. "No hospitals."
"Savannah—"
"No hospitals. No police. No anything that leaves a paper trail." She's looking at me now with those amber eyes burning. "Please."
And fuck, I know that plea. I know what it means when someone would rather bleed than risk being found.
"Okay," I say. "No hospital. But this needs more than a band-aid."
"Can you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Whatever it needs. Can you do it here?"
I should say no. Should tell her this is above my pay grade, that she needs actual medical attention, that I'm a casino security guard with a violent past and not a fucking doctor.
But I've stitched up brothers after bar fights. Done field medicine in parking lots and club houses when going to the ER meant answering questions nobody wanted to answer. I can handle a cut foot.
"Yeah," I hear myself say. "I can do it. But I need to get supplies from upstairs. You gonna be okay here for ten minutes?"
She nods. "I'll be here."
"You better be. Don’t make me have to look for a bride in a bloody wedding dress around the casino."
That gets me another almost-smile. "I'll be here," she repeats.
I stand up and catch Havoc’s eye across the floor. He's working the main entrance tonight. More than six-foot of tattooed intimidation that makes drunk assholes think twice about starting shit.
I walk over to him, keeping Savannah in my peripheral vision.
"Need a favor," I tell Havoc.
He looks past me to where Savannah's sitting. "The bride?"
"Yeah."
"She in trouble?"
"The running-from-something kind, yeah."
He nods slowly. He's been with the club longer than I have, and he's seen enough shit to know when not to ask questions. "What do you need?"
"Keep an eye on her while I grab medical supplies. Anyone comes in looking for a woman in a wedding dress, you don't know shit."
"What if they're cops?"
