Not even her “owies” slowed her down. The three stitches I’d just put on the inside of her right knee was more to help encourage it to close faster than because she needed it. I’d also added a bit of skin glue to be on the safe side.
“Fine, two days,” she agreed, and I let her have the sucker. “But only two. I want to work on riding it right so I can do tricks.”
“I get that,” I told her before hoisting her up and then setting her on her feet. “But if you keep getting scrapes, you’re gonna leave more skin on the ground than on your body and Momma over there might beat up old Doc with that skateboard.”
A fresh burst of laughter left Keisha as any trace of pain or complaint vanished. “Momma says hitting people is bad.”
“She’s a smart lady,” I told Keisha before I tugged one of her braids affectionately. I nodded to her mother. Rina—born Marina—was not a lady to be trifled with. She was about five years younger than me and had two kids. Keisha and her older brother. Like a lot of the kids I’d gone to school with, she’d popped out a baby at eighteen. Her boyfriend was doing a dime upstate and she focused on their kids.
“Momma also told her that if she couldn’t learn some patience, she would never master any tricks.”
I chuckled. “See? Smart lady.”
The woman rolled her eyes and slapped my arm. “What do we owe you?”
“How about some oranges the next time you go to the Farmer’s Market? I never get down there and I could use some fresh squeezed juice.” Rina had insurance and I’d bill them first. I didn’t need her copay. I’d rather she used the money to feed her kids, especially this close to graduating college for her, and a serious uptick in salary.
“You got it, Doc.” At least she didn’t argue with me anymore. I walked them out front and then let them out of the clinic. They were my last patients of the day. I studied the street as Rina and Keisha made their way up the block. It was after five, traffic had thickened and some of the local shops along the way had already shuttered their doors and pulled down their gates.
The bodega on the corner never closed. There was a diner a couple of streets over that would be open until eleven. But after five, this part just emptied out, save for the locals. Most of whom knew where my apartment was if they ran into issues.
A car parked a block away caught my attention as I turned back inside. Too many years of keeping one eye on my six kept me from staring. I bolted the door like I would normally and engaged the security system that rolled a gate down in front of the front windows and door. The back was left open, but the door was also three inches thicker and reinforced.
I headed upstairs after shutting off all the lights in the front and found a perch not far from the windows overlooking the street. With no lights on, there was no way to see inside. That, and the glare treatment I’d put on the windows, also kept the view obstructed.
The car parked on the street was still there, along with two guys in it. I may not recognize them, but I definitely recognized a type. There was nothing friendly about those faces or their stony expressions.
My phone started buzzing in my back pocket even as I reached for it. I’d put it on silent while I was with patients. The screen showed me Freddie’s name and I frowned. Freddie didn’t call me. In fact, Freddie avoided me unless—
“What’s wrong?” I asked even as I put the phone to my ear.
“Boo-Boo is in trouble.”
My heart sank. Goddammit, what had those boys done now? After our last encounter, I was pretty sure I would be the absolute last person she wanted to see. I needed her to want nothing to do with me. It would be better for everyone.
But it didn’t change my feelings. “Where is she?” I headed for the stairs, but a pounding at the back had me diverting that way.
“We don’t know,” Freddie said. “That’s me knocking.”
I paused mid-reach for the door, but silenced the little voice that asked if Freddie was really here for Emersyn, or was he here because he needed a fix? Medical grade norco was acceptable when he couldn’t score something on the street. Mostly, he wanted to blunt his mind and turn everything off. I had the stuff for it, but it was all locked up.
Hanging up, I freed the locks to open the door for Freddie. He ducked in immediately. There was a car in the back of the lot, but not one I knew. It was parked right next to my truck, so Freddie probably just “borrowed” a ride. “Do I need to worry about that vehicle?”
“It’s legal,” Freddie told me, pacing back and forth like a lion in its cage and needing a way out. Considering the car watching from out front, I turned on the security camera over the back door and the second one up on the roof.
After taking almost two dozen human trafficking victims in over the last few weeks, additional security measures seemed prudent. Fortunately, the last of those patients had already been moved into the system. A system I was going to end up explaining to Milo and the others sooner rather than later, but for now…
“Where is Emersyn?” I asked, tracking Freddie with my gaze and heading toward my office. The video feeds were all accessible from my laptop. It took me a couple of minutes to pull up the front camera, but what do you know, the Camry was still parked in the shadow of an alley.
“I told you,” Freddie said, even as he flipped through his phone like something on the screen or in his messages would reveal everything. “We don’t know.”
Straightening, I kept one eye on the car in the alley, along with its two passengers, then focused on Freddie. This level of agitation usually marked him crashing or needing a hit. But there was no flop sweat.
“I know you think I’m here to score,” Freddie said, meeting my gaze without a flinch. “I’m not, but I get it. I’m here because I need to know why Boo-Boo called me and not you.”
While I could probably answer that, I didn’t volunteer the data. “Start at the beginning. What happened to Emersyn?” Because if he didn’t tell me soon, I might slam Freddie into the wall to get him to focus, and that wouldn’t be good for either of us.
“She went home.” His eyes and his tone were the same level of dead. No inflection. No teasing. No—nothing. Just devastated emptiness. “She said it was her idea.” And the agitation was back. He worried at the corner of one of his fingers, like he had a hangnail. “But it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. She didn’t want to go back.”
Freddie resumed his pacing.
“She called me. Why did she call me, Doc? You’re the one she trusts.” He pivoted then stared at me. “Or did she call you?”
No. I checked my phone anyway, but there had been no calls from her. No calls or messages, not since the shooting at the club. Not since I got her off and then told her she shouldn’t want me, and that I wasn’t going to let myself want her. The fact I could still hear the way her breathing changed and craved another view of her eyes as she let go—right. I was a fucking liar.
“She hasn’t called me. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t go home.” After all, she’d had a chance to leave before and she’d decided against it. I dropped my phone on the desk and then sat before scrubbing my hands over my face.