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“Lach—”
“Let him be,” Jagg said, strengthening his hold on her hand.
Separating her fingers, she landed the hand on Mila’s door. “I’m going to check on my friend.”
Damnit. She hadn’t wanted Lachlan to find out that way. Had she wanted him to find out in any way? Yes, they were over, but she didn’t want to hurt him.
With one perfect shot, pins were flying every which way.
THIRTY-NINE
AFTER MILA FELL ASLEEP, she and Jagg went to find Marseille.
“Do you think they’ll keep her in the ER?” she asked in the elevator on their way down.
“I don’t know,” Jagg said, flopping an arm over her shoulder. “She might not want to talk.”
“She wouldn’t talk last night, according to the nurse. Sersha didn’t even give her name. She’s a Jane Doe here.”
“Smart. It’s Marseille’s call. We can’t imagine what she’s been through.”
Safety was a privilege. “Do you think they’ll get her therapy and—”
“Doubt it. Treat and street. Alotta people in the world got problems.”
“We can’t save everyone.” This story brought so much into perspective, not all of it good. “Sersha says not everyone can be saved.”
“Marseille might be okay. We know nothing about her.”
And they never would if the woman didn’t open up. Then again, how could she help? What did she know about imprisonment and violence?
Stepping out into the emergency department, the waiting area was busier than it had been after the fire. Jagg grabbed her hand and wound her through people to the front desk. He stood there, waiting, until someone came to sit in front of them. The person hadn’t acknowledged them, but that didn’t stop Jagg.
“We’re looking for a Jane Doe,” he said, projecting his voice in a way that made it impossible for the clerk to ignore him.
“Get a lot of them in,” the clerk said. “Fire brought an entire squad of amnesiacs in last night.”
Right. Yeah. How many hookers and henchmen would give their real details?
“This woman was memorable,” Jagg said. “Found in the street. Wearing a sheet.”
“Oh, yeah.” The clerk actually looked up and seemed startled to register him. “You’re Jagger Dunn.” How the hell did the guy know that? “Followed you back in the day.”
“Can you help us out?”
“Yeah.” The guy leaped up. “Yeah, just wait one minute.”
Scurrying off, the clerk quick-stepped it out of there.
“You didn’t tell me you were famous,” she said. “Thank God for that.”
Or the employee may not have been so eager to help.
“Not a good thing,” Jagg muttered, turning slowly, checking out the space, much like Sersha had the previous night. “He can ID me to whoever asks. One short step from me to you.”
Her eyes darted around. “What are you looking for?”
“Nothing.” But that was a lie. He put an arm around her, pulling her close to kiss her head. “We’re good.”
