Page 11 of Broken

She stared into his eyes for a long moment, and he felt… something… pass between them.

She relaxed slowly. “Okay.”

Cole helped her roll over onto her side—and sucked in his breath when he got a good look at the wound.

It was a long, deep slice starting right at the bottom of her left rib cage, wrapping around almost to her spine, cutting through skin and muscle. The edges were a dark, angry red—almost black in places. Poison? Or some kind of toxic magic?

He worked as quickly and efficiently as he could. Ireland was looking pale with shock and blood loss.

He checked that there were no major blood vessels to be repaired, then gave her a local injection and stitched the worst of the muscle tears. He could have sworn she was a shifter from the way she’d growled at him earlier, but if so her innate healing should have kicked in by now, unless that whip really was poisoned. He sniffed the wound, but couldn’t smell any toxins he was familiar with.

All the same, he didn’t want to stitch her up completely and seal any poison inside. Instead, he used an ointment that was a special Outlaw Ridge blend. Shifters didn’t tend to get infections because of their accelerated healing, but this one contained some ‘just in case’ antibiotics for bad cases, as well as antidotes to most of the known human and shifter-specific toxins.

Then he packed the wound with gauze and taped more over the top.

When he finished, she looked a little green, and she was sweating. He changed the bloody towels underneath her, took her boots off and pulled the covers up. “You okay?” he asked her, uncomfortable now that there was no action he could take. “You want some water? You should have something to drink.”

She nodded slightly, not taking her eyes from his. He got her some water and helped her sit up to drink it.

Suddenly her gaze flicked around the room. “Where’s the bag? With my stuff? What have you done with it?”

Cole took the glass away and gently pushed her back down. “Relax, it’s in the van. I was more worried about keeping you from bleeding out. You’re welcome.”

She bit her lip, and then said, “Thank you for saving me. Before, from the Retrievers. And just now. But you need to let me go.”

He just shook his head. “You’re in no state to go anywhere. And it’s my mission to get you to safety. Also, my boss will probably want to talk to you about Riker.”

She frowned. “Your boss? Who do you work for? The government?”

Cole snorted. “Definitely not.” He’d had his fill of working for the government, back in the day. When he also worked with Riker. They were worse than almost any bad guy the Ridge had ever taken down.

Ireland let her head fall back on the pillow. “Great. You’re a criminal. Figures.”

“What do you have against criminals? Riker was one.”

She pressed her lips together. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know. I witnessed it.”

She dropped her eyes. Then she said quietly, “He was good to me. He helped me. He was going to—”

She broke off.

“Going to what?” But she just shook her head.

Instead she said, “You can’t keep me here.”

Right. She was half his size. He could fold her up and stuff her in a duffel bag if he wanted.

“Just lie down and rest, for fuck’s sake,” he said. “And let me get cleaned up.”

He could have sworn he heard another growl, but he ignored it. Instead, he turned his back and stripped off his combat vest and what was left of his shirt, since half of it had gone to get the bull-man’s acid blood off him. His face still stung from it.

When he turned around again, she was trying to get out of bed. “Stop that,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I told you. You can’t keep me here.”

He ran a practiced eye over her. He was used to stubborn idiots—his younger brother was one. He folded his arms. “Fine,” he said. “Go.”

She made it almost to the door before her knees buckled and she passed out again. Since Cole had expected that, he was able to catch her before she hit the floor. Shaking his head—this was becoming a habit—he carried her back to the bed, grabbed a syringe and gave her something to keep her out for a few hours.

Then he stripped her pants off, made sure she wasn’t bleeding again, and tucked her into bed.

He stood with his hands on his hips, looking down at her—beautiful, annoying, perfect and helpless. Figured that when he had the chance to take the pants off the most intriguing woman he’d met in forever, it was to tend her wounds and tuck her into bed.

And now he had to figure out what came next. He should be reporting in to the Ridge and arranging an extraction for both of them, but all his instincts were screaming not to. And—aside from his dangerous feelings for her—he didn’t know why.