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WAIT.
The doctor’s instruction was simple, if infuriating.
Laid out in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines, Mila looked small. Bruised, patched up, and vulnerable, the woman hadn’t opened her eyes.
Lachlan had left her under the protection of two of Jagg’s guys. Not guys she was familiar with, but Mila hadn’t been harmed, so they’d obviously been doing their job.
“You’re going to be okay,” she said, squeezing Mila’s hand that had been in hers since she sat down.
An hour ago. Maybe two. Her tension came with a peace. Being there meant something. Maybe her imagination got the better of her, but the proximity of her vigil held weight.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I should’ve been here. I should’ve stayed with you.” Being with Jagg, free and safe, was an insult to what Mila endured. “The doc told us you haven’t talked to your mom for years. They couldn’t find your brother. You shouldn’t be alone. Stephanie would be here… if she could be.”
Great. Yeah. Talk about her dead friend. If there was a choice, wherever Mila hovered in limbo, maybe staying there with Stephanie was an appealing option. But what did she know? Tomorrow, the afterlife, never solved mysteries. It was beginning to feel like no mystery could be solved.
“We’re making progress—”
The door behind her opened. Was it a doc or…?
Snake, dragon… Snake Guy. Swerve.
Standing fast, she put herself between him and Mila. “What are you doing here?”
Without a care in the world, he sauntered over and pulled the curtain around the bed, blocking out the door.
“Mila’s a good friend of mine.”
“Mila is not a friend of yours,” she asserted. “And I will not let you hurt her.”
“I didn’t come here to hurt her.”
Menace lingered, though he didn’t frown or growl. His intimidation came in his height, in his size, in his tattoo and the uncomplicated ease of his arrogance.
“We’re in a hospital. People know I’m here. They’ll look for me. Hurting me won’t—”
“Why do you think I came here to hurt you?” He came closer, but she held her ground. “Can’t I just be here to check on my friend?”
“No one has visited since she arrived.” Including her. The day of the incident didn’t count. “You went to her apartment to scare her, to threaten her. I know what you did, who you are. The woman’s unconscious, warning her won’t make a lot of difference.”
“Now you’re getting warmer.” His shoulders loose, his eyes intent. Could this guy feel emotion? Could he understand fear and hate and grief? “This warning isn’t for Mila, this warning’s for you.”
Ah… Maybe she should’ve figured that out sooner.
“You know I’m asking questions.”
“Questions? I don’t care about questions. I don’t care about you running all over town for kicks with Jagger Dunn. Yvonne cares. Marcie too. And Janine.”
“Oh my God.”
Others. The confirmation that there were other victims was a surprise. The surprise was them being held together. More than one victim at a time. How had she missed that?
“You’re chasing ghosts, Miss Stratford. The women who are gone, you can’t do anything for them. The women still here will pay for every step you take down this path. Do you want that on your conscience? How deep do they want you to dig when every ounce of dirt causes them pain?”
“How can you do this? How can you hurt innocent women? Torture them?”
“I never laid a finger on any of them.”
Someone else may do the dirty work of that variety. That didn’t exonerate him. Knowledge was complicity, action or not.
