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Her first thought had been simply to wait for Wes and Maggie to come home, but within moments she knew that she had to keep them out of it; if Hank was truly in debt to dangerous people, then the fewer of her friends who became involved, the better. She didn’t know if Wes owned a gun, although in these parts, it was likely, and dragging those lovely people into this mess would be harsh repayment for their kindness.
The same was true of her new neighbors and friends. How could she bring violence and the unwelcome glare of media attention to a town that had welcomed her so warmly? She’d be unable to show her face at Cheryl’s ever again, another young girl with a foggy past and dark connections who left suddenly and under strange circumstances.
No, there was only one real option.
What made the decision for her, in many ways, was not simply who hewas, but who heknew. One of her first thoughts had been of Ridge’s friend in the photo from ‘Hell Week,’ their grueling SEAL training. Hadn’t Ridge mentioned that he was now in the DEA? It was a long shot, but she felt that this might be a way to help Hank, maybe even find the gang before they hurt him, and keep this whole mess out of the public eye.
Then there was Ridge himself. Honest, mature, incredibly strong. The only man in her life who could help her, even if he was her newest friend. She had no choice but to ask.
Raven dried her face with her sleeve, instantly regretting it as she saw the smear of blood. It was hardly how she would have chosen to appear to Ridge at 1:30 a.m., disheveled and bleeding, rather than draped in gorgeous lingerie and smelling of sandalwood and sex. But there was nothing she could do, she reflected yet again as she knocked gingerly on his door.
After a few seconds, it opened and Ridge greeted her with a surprised grin, which quickly disappeared as she stepped forward into the light. “Raven? MyGod, what’s happened?” He ushered her into the house, instinctively checking left and right out of his door to see if she had been followed. “Are you OK?”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I just didn’t know where to go. Maggie and Wes went to a bar somewhere and I knew they’d be a bit drunk and it’s late,” she rambled, trying not to cry but failing. Ridge sat her down on the living room sofa, and then moved efficiently around the house, grabbing his first aid kid from under the sink, and a fresh t-shirt to replace the stained blouse Raven had arrived in.
“You need to tell me what happened,” he said gently, sitting on the sofa next to her, “just as soon as you’re ready. I need to know who hit you.”
She sniffed. “I’m so sorry, Ridge,” she said again, “I really don’t want to get you involved.” Her head was crowded with confused thoughts; she began to regret imposing on this caring man. “I should go.”
“No,” he said with quiet firmness, “you need to sit there and tell me what happened.” He gently held her hand. “Take your time.”
She breathed deeply and regained some of her composure. Ridge worked on cleaning the wound and smeared on a little antiseptic ointment, making Raven wince. “It’s not that he’s a badguy, he’s just made a bunch of badchoices,” she explained. “And now he’s in deep trouble. He seems to think they’re going to kill him if he doesn’t come up with the money.”
Ridge applied a blue cold pack to her face. “Go back a few steps, Raven. Who is ‘he’ and who are ‘they’?”
“My brother, Hank. He’s been getting himself involved in the wrong kind of business since he was a teenager. I don’t know how he stayed out of jail,” she said. “He’s depended on me more than I care to admit. Without me, I don’t know where he’d be.”
“What kind of business?”
She was quiet for a moment, terrified as to how Ridge would react. “Drugs,” she said quietly. “I don’t think he uses them much,” Raven added honestly, “but he’s been moving things around for drug people.”
“Guns?” Ridge asked immediately, assessing the level of the threat.
“No, no,” she insisted, “he’s not violent.” Ridge gave her a look. “Well, not normally.”
Ridge brought out another cold pack to replace the first one. “So he’s a courier?”
“Something like that. They use him for fairly simple jobs, and I guess he was given something to do and screwed it up.”
“Was he caught by the cops?” asked Ridge, doing his best to follow closely, despite the tiring evening.
“He lost the ‘package,’” she said, using hand quotes. “And some money. They’re really pissed at him. And he thinks they’re really serious people, the kind who would just...” She held a finger to her temple in an unmistakable gesture.
“He can’t just go to the cops? They’d protect him.”
Raven shook her head. “They have cops on their payroll. It wouldn’t be any use, and then they’d kill him anyway for trying to snitch on them.”
Ridge removed the ice pack and took a close look at Raven’s face. “Sounds like an impossible situation.” She nodded, winced slightly as he pressed the swollen skin under her eye. “I’d take a number and get in line to beat him up, but I guess he’s got enough trouble right now. You’ve got to admit, though... hitting his sister is pretty damnedlow.”
“I’m not going to argue with that,” she said through the pain.
Ridge reflected on the situation, willing his tired brain to analyze it, to step back and see the larger picture, and to ignore the emotions — Raven’s and his own — which swirled confusingly around the few facts. “I mean, does he really think you’re hiding a pile of cash under your bed?”
“I know,” she smirked, “it’s kinda ridiculous, right? I mean, Cheryl’s a great boss, but it ain’t that far above minimum wage, and all my savings went into fixing up the car and getting out of Illinois.”
Ridge returned to holding her hand, something she found profoundly reassuring. “Did you have to leave because of what Hank was into?”
“It was partly that, partly some other things,” she said.
