Call the police.
She reached into her other pocket for her cell.
“CJ?”
She whipped around.
“What’s going on back here?”
Braddock.
Thank God. “He ...” She pointed to the supply room. “He came for the drugs.”
Braddock charged forward, grabbed her by the shoulders, and looked her over. He winced when he touched her throat where the knife had marred her skin. “You should take care of that.” He took the keys from her hand and moved toward the door.
CJ collapsed against the nearest wall. Her eyes and nose stung from the spray.
“He’s got a knife,” she remembered to tell Braddock as he unlocked the door. She supposed he’d realized that from the nick on her throat. Braddock had already drawn his weapon.
She heard him tell the man to put his hands up. Heard the ensuing argument and the brief scuffle.
She pushed away from the wall and checked to see that Braddock had everything under control. He was cuffing the guy. The knife lay on the floor. Blood stained its sharp blade. Her blood. She shuddered. Her skin burned where he’d pressed it to her throat.
She moved to the exam room and took a look in the mirror over the sink.
Only a minor nick. She cleansed the wound. Applied some antibiotic cream and a small bandage. While she patched her wound she heard Braddock on the phone ordering Jenkins to come get the guy and haul him in.
She washed her hands and face, then braced herself on the sink. Maybe Edward was right. She was taking far too many liberties with her future ... with her life.
For what?
Shelley was dead.
Nothing CJ did was going to bring her back.
But what about all these people?
The abuse they suffered, particularly the women, at Tyrone’s hands was incomprehensible. Could she just walk away and pretend she didn’t see this?
The way the rest of this city had been doing for years?
You don’t belong here no more.
Ricky was right. She didn’t belong here anymore. But what kind of person would she be if she just walked away and didn’t try to stop this madness?
The conversation between Braddock and Jenkins was hushed. She stayed put. Didn’t want to deal with that. She dabbed her eyes again with a wet paper towel.
Bone-tired, she cleaned up the mess she’d made and tidied the exam room while Braddock finished up with the would-be thief. She’d already taken care of the other rooms after her final patients were out the door.
Right now, she wanted to go home and collapse.
Home?
You don’t belong here no more.
This wasn’t home. Did she even really have a home? Her apartment in Baltimore wasn’t home. It was just a place where she slept and showered.
“You okay?”
