That last part seemed to penetrate because her arms dropped to her sides as her whole body slumped down, curling into itself as the sobs started to rack her system.
“Shit, man. Tears. That’s your thing. I’ll go find the asshole,” he said, walking backward into the elevator and hitting the close door button a bit frantically, like he was worried Abigail might try to cling to him and cry on his shoulder.
I rushed forward, dropping down in front of her.
The fall and roll afterward had done some damage, but she must have lucked out and jumped when the truck wasn’t moving too fast.
The pavement had torn through her pants, skinning the knees beneath. It had done the same to the arms of her shirt and the skin beneath. And there was a pretty decent gash on her forehead and road burn on her chin.
There were likely going to be bruises everywhere and a lot of soreness.
But she was okay.
Alive.
Away from Raúl.
That was what mattered.
Everything else we could handle.
“Okay, baby, it’s okay,” I said, carefully closing my arms around her, pulling her against my chest.
“Are they okay?” she sobbed, her voice a high-pitched, hysterical sound. “Did they die?”
I went ahead and assumed she wanted to know about Seth, Finn, and Louana, not Raúl’s men.
“Seth is right out front waiting for us. He wasn’t hurt at all.”
“But… but…”
“They got shot, but they’re okay,” I told her, carefully running my hand over her hair.
“It’s my fault.”
“Hey,” I said, voice a little firmer than usual. “Listen to me. Not a fucking thing that happened today was your fault. This was Raúl’s fault. No one else’s.”
“I had to… to… shoot.”
“I know. You did what you had to do to survive, that’s all.”
“Did he die?”
I could have sugarcoated it. But that wasn’t my style. She needed to know the full truth of what was going on.
“Yes. And it looks like Raúl shot the driver.”
“Is he…”
“I’m assuming he’s on a plane back to Mexico. That was where the truck was. At an independent airstrip.”
Though, I very much doubted he was going to stay away.
Especially now that he had more information. He was probably going to go back to let the heat die down, then make another move when he thought we wouldn’t have our guards up.
But I didn’t need to give Abigail all that information. At least not until I got her somewhere safe, got her cleaned up, made sure she was okay.
“Can I take you out of here, love?” I asked. “I really want to check you over, clean you up.”
“Okay,” she said. “Where are we going?”
That was a good question.
The apartment was not an option. First, because of possible fresh bad memories. Second, because there was a body on the floor and blood all over the walls.
I could take her to the clubhouse.
But I got the feeling that she would feel on-display there, and even more guilty when she saw Finn and Louana recovering from their injuries.
“Wanna go back to the hotel?” I asked. “We will bring Dezi and Voss to hang out in the lobby to keep an eye. But, for now, I think we’re safe enough to go there.”
“Okay,” she said, sniffling hard, trying to pull it back together.
We rode the creaky elevator back up to the lobby where we could see Seth out front with a crowd of kids checking out his bike while Dezi and Voss stood back looking a little green at the idea of the kids maybe wanting to ask them questions.
“Thank fuck,” Voss rumbled as we emerged.
“We took a couple trips to get the bikes while we waited,” Dezi said, waving toward mine.
“Appreciate it. We are going to head to the hotel if you two want to come and hang for a bit, just until we’re sure shit has blown over.”
“Got nothing to do,” Voss said, shrugging.
He’d been used to long, tedious work. Because, apparently, he’d been a human junkyard dog at his last job. Just walking around to make sure no one jumped the fence and stole shit.
“I’ll stop and get donuts,” Dezi offered. “You want donuts, don’t you?” he asked, nodding at Abigail.
“I think you want donuts,” she said, finding a small smile, despite the shit day she’d had. “But I’ll have one.”
“Probably want some late dinner too,” Dezi said as we moved toward my bike.
We managed to get a room at the hotel with a river view, but a floor higher than the last one. With one king-sized bed.
“Come on, love,” I murmured, pulling her with me into the bathroom.
I had nothing to change her into, but she had to get out of the torn clothes, so I could clean her up. The robe would have to do until I could get someone to come by and drop off some fresh clothes.
“Sorry, baby,” I said when she hissed and winced when I started to pull off her clothes, leaving her standing there in nothing but a pair of panties.
“Everything hurts,” she admitted, giving me a tired look through her heavy-lidded eyes.
“Yeah, I bet. These bruises are just started to come in,” I said, looking at her arms and knees, then turning her to find some bruises on her shoulders and hips as well. Leaning forward, I pressed a kiss to one of the ones on her shoulder. “I’m so fucking sorry, Abigail.”
“It’s not your fault,” she insisted, voice small, tired.
I imagine after all the adrenaline wore off, she was dead tired from it and all the fear and uncertainty and pain.
“Sh, it’s okay,” I said when there was a knock at the door that had her damn near jumping out of her skin. “It’s probably Dezi,” I added. “Sit. I’ll see what he wants,” I told her, moving out and closing the door behind me.
“She okay?” he asked, handing me a box from the Italian place, packed with what looked like four separate meals in their little aluminum containers. Along with two drinks and a bakery box. The donuts, I imagined.
“Banged up and tired, but yeah.”
“Got this,” he said, holding out a bag. “Creams and bandages, ibuprofen, that kinda shit,” he added, shrugging.
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate it. You and Voss going to be able to get along down there tonight?”
“If we keep the whole lobby between us,” he said, smirking.
“I will figure out a plan after I clean her up, so we can get you guys some relief. Or move the whole thing somewhere else.”
“The night shift girl is cute. I’m good where I am,” he said, eyes dancing as he moved off.
“Dezi brought us some food and stuff to clean you up with,” I told her, grabbing a washcloth and running it under the hot water with one hand as I laid out the other supplies. “This isn’t going to be pleasant,” I added, seeing all the bits of gravel and dirt in the cuts on her arms and legs.
“It will be better than what could have happened tonight,” she said, shrugging.
She was a trooper through my ministrations, only starting to jump and hiss when I’d been working on her for a solid fifteen minutes.