pain in his shoulder and ribs. He remembered the ER crew checking his back. He’d only cursed once. Then they’d moved to his front. Carajo, he hadn’t liked seeing the white flashes of his rib cage when they’d checked to see how deep it was.
“When my sister was ten, she got a sewing kit,” Marcus said in his easy Southern drawl. He pulled his chair closer and used the controls to raise the head of Raoul’s bed. “You look like one of the stuffed bears she…mended. Stitches everywhere.”
Friends were a joy to the heart, Raoul reminded himself. “Thank you.”
Marcus gave an exaggerated sigh. “She’s in the ER being checked over, but she’s all right. Sam is with her. They should never have doped you up to give you stitches.”
Raoul relaxed. “Why?”
“A pleasant dopehead you’re not. Every time your eyes open, you ask about Kim…then try to get down to the ER. You punched an orderly, by the way. The nurses dragged me in here to reassure you she’s alive.” Marcus grinned. “And I’ve been telling you that every five minutes since.”
“Sorry. And thank you.” Raoul frowned. “Have you checked on her recently?” Sam was good. He’d watch out for her. Wouldn’t he? Scowling, Raoul looked up at the IV bag hanging on a pole, traced the plastic tubing to the needle in the back of his hand. He could yank it out.
“Don’t try it,” Marcus said, his Southern accent not covering up the steel beneath. “I’d sit on you, and then they’d put it back in. You lost enough blood to worry them. And me.”
Giving up for the moment, Raoul asked, “Did they catch everyone?”
“We did,” Galen Kouros said from the doorway. Weariness lined his face as he walked into the room, leaning heavily on his cane. “I am very tired of visiting you pushy bastards in the hospital after you get damaged in my operations.”
Raoul snorted and had to suck in against the groan. The skin on his ribs felt as if it wanted to split open again. “No jokes,” he gritted out.
From behind Kouros, Z appeared. He pointed to the pain-control device. “Use that, Raoul.”
Raoul scowled. “I will wait to see my sumi-see Kimberly.”
“I’ll have her wake you up if you’re asleep.” Z picked up the remote and pushed the button, smiling at Raoul’s curse. “Don’t get into a pissing contest with me when you’re flat on your back. You’ll just get wet.”
“Cabron.”
Z grinned. “You can stop worrying about her, you know. I stopped in the ER and sent Sam home. Kim is getting X-rays. Then Jessica and Gabi will bring her up.” He glanced at Marcus. “I don’t think the doctors stand a chance against the three of them.”
The pain medicine hit. It felt as if the bed dropped away a couple of feet, but the burning in his shoulder and ribs eased to a mild smolder. Z was still a bastard. “What else?” he asked Kouros.
“The upstairs looked like a war zone. One man had his skull smashed in-which Kim said was her work.”
Raoul winced. He’d glimpsed the end of Greville. She should not have had to do that. “Is she-you made her
“Since you weren’t available, yes. She held together until she finished…then spent the next ten minutes throwing up. Dammit.” Kouros gave him a level stare. “From what I know of your background, you’ve seen your share of violence. She’ll be all right, but you know it takes a while.”
Raoul nodded.
“For you, you caved in one man’s chest, one died going headfirst down the steps, one from a crushed trachea. Most of the rest are in a world of hurt. Nice job.” Kouros thought for a moment. “The Overseer is in surgery right now-and he talked quite a bit while we were waiting for his transport.”
“I didn’t think he’d change sides so quickly,” Raoul said.
“If he doesn’t end up completely blinded, he’d have such poor vision that”-Kouros had a grim smile-“he’d make an excellent fucktoy for some big joe in prison. He didn’t like the idea.”
“I rather do.” Marcus’s eyes were cold. “Gabi still has nightmares from being kidnapped.”
“And Jessica,” Z said.
“Yes,” Kouros said heavily. “But on the bright side, the Harvest Association has lost this quadrant. And with the personnel and the buyers, we’ve got enough information to dig out the ringleaders.”
“And the kidnapped women?” Z asked.
“Can go home,” Kouros said. “The Association is going to be too busy looking for caves to indulge in any reprisals.”
Kimberly could return to her family. “That-that is good.” She’d leave. He felt as if someone was ripping out his stitches one by one.
Women’s laughter came from the hall, warming the sterility of the room. Gabi and Jessica walked in, followed by Kimberly.
She limped to the bed and smiled down at him. “You look horrible-and so much better than I thought you would.”
She had a bruised face, split lip. Her leg had been hurt somehow. Her body moved…stiffly, as if to guard from pain. She had lines of strain around her eyes and mouth, but she could smile. Such an indomitable spirit.
He opened his palm, giving her the choice, and the world turned brighter when her small hand slid into his. “What did the doctor say, gatita?”
“You have a thousand or so stitches in your-”
He narrowed his eyes. “About you.” Thinking more clearly, he turned to Jessica, defender of the subbies. “What did her doctor say?”
Ignoring Kimberly’s glare, Jessica glanced at Z, received a quick smile and nod, and reported, “Aside from the damage to her face, she’s got an ugly bruise over her ribs-but nothing broken-and a twisted ankle. Nothing broken there either. A concussion, and they want her to spend the night.” Jessica grinned at her friend. “She got out of the wheelchair just outside this room, ’cause you might worry. ’Bout as stubborn as you are.”
As Jessica finished, Raoul used Kimberly’s arm as a leash to pull her down. He needed her lips, her fragrance, her gentleness, and he savored them all as her soft mouth moved over his. They would have to talk soon but…not yet.
Right after Z and Jessica left, a nurse showed up for Kim-and Master R ordered her to be an obedient patient. The obstinate blowfish. God, she didn’t want to leave him.
The hospital staff and FBI had talked about splitting the rescued women into different hospitals and rooms, but Gabi’d taken charge, and they discovered the women preferred to stay together, at least for now. Kim understood completely. Safety in numbers, others who comprehended what had happened, friendships formed in suffering. Until their families arrived, each other was all these women had.
In the big room filled with ex-slaves, the nurse tucked Kim into a bed next to Linda, took her vital signs, and increased her headache by shining a light in her eyes.
But she was a nice nurse and showed up a few minutes later with pain medication in repayment for the flashlight torture. For a while, Kim talked with Linda, sharing tears and comfort over Holly’s death, and relief that the slavery nightmare was over.
Linda told Kim not to be mad at Sam for whipping her, that he’d had no choice. He’d given her a safe word, and she’d agreed. But…then she wouldn’t talk about it anymore. Something was wrong.
Linda’s eyes were drooping, and she drifted off before Kim could think of a tactful question.
All around the room, women were sleeping, crying quietly, and talking to the counselors who’d arrived with Gabi. Thanks to the Overseer’s care of the “merchandise,” most weren’t hurt badly-at least not physically. And they’d be able to go home.
As Kim looked around, her anxiety kept increasing. The shaking had started deep inside while she talked with Linda, slowly expanding. Her hands were quivering like a palm in high winds.
