Her Fierce SEAL: Midnight Delta Book 6 (11 page)

“What a load of bullshit.  What’s more, you’re now putting down every other person who struggles with PTSD.  Basically saying they’re weak.  Is that really what you want to say?”

“God no!”  He was stunned that she would even think that.

“Then you’re going to have to learn to give yourself some of the same slack as you would others in your shoes.  Now, we have a case to discuss.”  Finn watched as she pulled out her purse, grabbed her lip gloss and a compact and reapplied.  He couldn’t decide what had gotten him more hot and bothered, the smell of strawberries, or the fact that she had just managed to effectively call him on his bullshit.

***

F
inn was putting away his groceries when the phone rang.  It was Angie’s number, and he answered the phone.

“Hello.”

“Hey, Finn.” Angie’s voice was kind of muffled.

“Are you at the office?  Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?”  He figured he could get a run in before their meeting.

“I’m not.  I need to cancel.  Do you mind talking to Dasha by yourself today?”  He was having trouble understanding her. 

“Are you all right?”  He heard her swallow.

“I’m fine,” she enunciated carefully.

“Why are you talking funny?”

“It’s a long story.  After you talk to Dasha, can you give me a call?”

“Why aren’t you going with me?”  He heard her take a deep breath.  It almost sounded like she was wheezing.  “Dammit Angie, you don’t sound well.”

“I’m fine.  Just talk to Dasha.  You know it’s important.”

“You’re important too.  Where are you?”

“I’m at home.  I’m not feeling well.”

“So you’re sick.  Instead of calling you after I talk to Dasha, I’ll come over.”

“No!” she cried out.  He heard a little hiss.  Oh fuck, she was hurting.  Clammy hands clutched his throat. 

“I’ll be over in a few minutes.”  He hung up and grabbed his keys with trembling fingers.  His phone started ringing again.  He saw it was Angie, and he ignored it.

It was a twenty-minute drive to her house.  He made it in fifteen.

Before he could knock, she opened the door.  It was sweltering outside, but the woman was bundled up to her neck in sweats.  Her hair was falling over her face.  He could barely see her. 

“I’m contagious.  You need to leave.”

His eyes zeroed in on her swollen lip.  He took a deep breath. 

You can do this, Crandall. 

He pushed open the door gently when his instinct was to push his way inside so he could get to her, hold her, make sure she was okay.

“I’m coming in, Angie.”  He made sure his tone was firm but gentle.

“I don’t feel well,” she said in the petulant voice of a child.

“I don’t imagine you do,” he said as he stepped into the foyer and got his first really good look at her.  He carefully brushed back the curls from her face and tilted her chin so he could see her face more clearly.  “Ahh, lady.  Somebody really did a number on you.” 

How in the hell could tenderness and rage be fighting for dominance in his mind and body at the same time?

“I’m really fine,” but her voice trembled the slightest bit, and one of her puffy eyes held the sheen of tears.

Tenderness first.  “Have you been icing?”

“I just woke up.”

“Dammit.  You did go to the hospital, didn’t you?”  She winced at his words.  “Sorry. Tenderness.”  His fingers  sifted through the silk of her hair and found a good sized goose-egg.  “Tell me you went to the hospital.  You could have a concussion.  Tell me you didn’t come home and go to sleep.”

She shrugged away from him.  “Fine, I won’t tell you,” she said angrily.

She took two steps, and he saw she was limping and holding her side.  He might lose it.  But he’d be damned if it was going to happen two days in a row.  And it
sure
as hell wasn’t going to be when Angie needed him.

He bent, put one arm under her knees, the other behind her back, and lifted her high and strode to the couch in her living room.

“Finn!  Put me down!” she shrieked.

“Fine.”  He settled her onto the sofa.  She huffed out a moan.  He wanted to know everything, but first things were first.

“Do I need to call an ambulance?”

“Of course not!” she said indignantly.

“Well since you don’t seem to have the sense God gave a gnat, it’s a reasonable question.  Do you think your ribs are broken, cracked, or bruised?”

“How’d you know there was anything wrong with my ribs?”

“Angie, answer the question,” he commanded.

She looked at him with wide eyes.  “I’m pretty sure just bruised.  But what does it matter, if they’re cracked they just tape them anyway.”

Calm down, Crandall.  Do not channel Drake.  Do not talk like Drake would talk.

He tried to lift the hem of her sweatshirt, but she slapped at his hands.  He glowered, and she stopped.  He lifted the shirt to the bottom of her breasts.  She wasn’t wearing a bra, but that didn’t capture his attention.  It was the two clear boot prints that sent his blood pressure skyrocketing.

Before they got to the who, he needed to know what else was wrong.  She coughed and wheezed.  Goddammit, her lungs did not sound good.  She winced and held her head.

“Where else were you kicked?”

“Nowhere.”

“You were limping.”  He smoothed her shirt back down and cupped her cheek.  “I’m holding onto my temper by a thread.  Do you really want to lie to me at this point?”  He could see her assessing him. 

“He kicked my hip and my knee.”

“How bad?”

“The knee not so bad,” she admitted.

Finn laid his hand down on her right hip, the side he had seen her favor.  It was hot to the touch even through the crimson sweats.  “I’m going to look.”

“I know,” she said quietly.

He tugged down the pants, revealing her hip, while still preserving her modesty.  The bruise was a deep purple.  It amazed him she had been able to walk.

“We’re getting some ice.  Then I’m taking you to the hospital.  In the car, you can tell me what in the hell happened.”

She tried to push away from him, but he easily and gently held her down.  She finally settled and stared up at him.

“Look, Finn, I am not going to the hospital.  If I felt I needed to go to the hospital, I would have gone last night when the EMT’s tried to take me,” she said reasonably.

He froze. “Let me get this right. EMT’s evaluated you, and determined you should go to the hospital, and you refused care?” he asked slowly.

“Yes!  Now you can see why I’m not going to go now.”

“Oh lady, you’re going.”  He didn’t care how much venom she spit.  “You’re going.  You are going to do exactly what every medical professional tells you to do.  You are going to come home and follow every order they give you even if I have to stay here to get you to do it.  Then when you get well, I’m going to–” he stopped before he said spank her ass.  That was the old Finn.  He would never say that to a woman again, not after all the violence he had seen heaped on them.  But he had to admit his damn palm was itching.  What the hell had she been thinking?

“Oh for God’s sake.”  She pushed up again and then gasped.

“Ribs, hip, or head?”

“Ribs,” she replied. “Okay, I’ll go.  But only because I think it might not hurt to have my ribs X-Rayed, not because you’re bullying me.”  She folded her arms and gasped in pain.  Finn flinched. 

He stood up and found a hell of a lot of ice packs in the freezer.  Far more than any normal person should have.  Two of them were the type that would wrap around an arm or a leg with Velcro, and should work on her knee. 

“Do you have first aid tape?” he asked as he brought the ice packs back to the living room.  At her blank expression, he rephrased the question.  “Do you have medical wrap, so I can keep the ice packs in place?”

“There’s a first aid kit in the master bathroom.”  She waved towards the hallway.  He found the kit, and as he worked to get the ice packs in place, he continued to ask her questions.

“Tell me how this happened.  I assume you were working a case.”

“It doesn’t matter, I held my own and the asshole that did this is in jail.”

“Who was he?  Are you trying to tell me this was random?”

“No, it wasn’t random.  His name is Paul Jackson, and he’s pissed because I took his wife’s case.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Lorna has a restraining order against him, but he works in the mayor’s office, and filed one against her too.  He’s making her out to look crazy.  Therefore, the Austin Police haven’t been as quick as they should to show up at her apartment when she calls.”

“Damn.  That sounds ugly.”

“It’s worse than that.  He’s been escalating, and she can’t get anyone to believe her.”

“Except for you, right?”

“Right.”

“Why did he attack you?  How did he know you were working for Lorna?”

“She told him I was her bodyguard.  She’d had him served with divorce papers at his office yesterday.  We knew he was going to lose his shit and go over to her apartment, so I was going to be at her place after he received the papers. Unfortunately, I underestimated him.”

“What do you mean?”

“He attacked me in Lorna’s parking garage as soon as I got out of my car.”

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“I left my office at three and headed straight to Lorna’s place.  He jumped me in the causeway between the apartment complex and the parking garage.  He hit me in the head before I could do anything, then he pulled a gun on me and dragged me behind the dumpsters.”  She swallowed and clutched at her throat.  He touched her hand, trying to keep both of them in the present.  It wasn’t enough.  He sat beside her on the couch and hauled her onto his lap.  He didn’t want to hear this, but she needed to talk, and he needed to be there for her, and keep it together.

Angie looked at him in surprise, and then he coaxed her head to rest on his chest.  She snuggled against him, with a trembling sigh.

“It’s okay, Angie.  I’m here.  Keep going.”

“My head hurt, and he was pulling my hair. He was waving the gun, the dumb son of a bitch.  I hit him hard in the shoulder, and the gun went flying.  But he’s a big guy, really big.  He punched me, and I fell to the ground.  I screamed, but he didn’t care.  He said he was going to kill me, and nobody would ever guess it was him.”

Finn felt bile rise. 

“He started toward me, but I kicked his ankle. That’s when he started to kick me.”

Angie trembled at the memory, and Finn gently rocked her in his arms.  She burrowed deeper. It was clear both of them were comforted by their connection.  “I finally was able to roll away and get my gun out of my purse.  As soon as I had it in my hands, he went down to his knees with his hands up.  I just couldn’t bring myself to shoot him, even though I wanted to, Finn.  I really did.”

“Of course, you did.  Don’t feel bad for wanting to hurt or kill that bastard.”  Finn wanted to get his hands on the man.  Just two minutes should do the job.

“Somebody must have called 911 when I was screaming because the cops showed up almost at the same time.” 

“Wait a minute.”  He tipped her chin so he could look at her.  “The cops didn’t insist you go to the hospital?”

“I signed a refusal of care form.  And they couldn’t force me to go to the hospital.”

Finn kept one arm around Angie, holding her carefully against him.  He pulled out his phone and called her office.

“Sarah?  This is Finn.  Angie was badly beaten last night.  She refused to go to the hospital.  If you can tell me which hospital I should take her to, I’ll go there, and you can tell her grandfather to meet us there.”

“You bastard,” Angie screeched. She wiggled to get away from him, but it was useless.  He was careful not to hurt her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her go.  Finn listened while Sarah agreed and gave him the information he needed.  He loved how she didn’t ask any unnecessary questions, just said she would be shutting down the office and would meet them there.

Finn put his phone in his pocket and looked down at Angie.  Now that he had her where he wanted her, and he had a plan, he relaxed.  It was time to let loose.

“Let me get this straight.  You were going to go over to your client’s house, and she has a batshit, crazy husband.  You were going to go over there alone when you had a Navy SEAL you could take along.  Do I understand that correctly?” 

“He’d never used a gun before,” Angie said belligerently.

“You knew you’re dealing with some fucking psycho who you admitted had been escalating.  You do know domestic abuse cases are the ones most apt to result in violence, or don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” she said defensively.

“Then what the fuck were you thinking?” he asked in an ominous tone.

“That I could handle this.  I’ve handled other cases just fine.”

“I’m sure you have.  Bravo.  When did you decide not to use all of the resources at your disposal?  Do you think you’re a goddamn superhero?” 

Fuck, that definitely sounded like Drake.

“Back off.  You have no right.”

“I have every right.  We’re working a case together.  Less than a week ago we were considering sleeping together.  I have all the rights in the world to be concerned for your safety. I, I...” 

She gave him a long considering look.  “You what, Finn?”

“I can’t handle the idea of you getting hurt when I could have been there to help you.  I just can’t.”  He pressed his forehead against hers.  Their eyes met, he could see her bruised flesh, but mostly just the warmth and intelligence of Angie.

“I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

He felt something in him ease.

“Good, from now on it will occur to you to call me.”

She cupped his cheek.

“I’m so sorry.  If I’m honest, there was a moment when I considered calling you, but we’re only working the Dasha case, so I figured I’d handle this one on my own.”

He reared back.  “God-Mother-Fucking-Dammit Donatelli!  You are so going over my knee as soon as you are recovered.  You thought about calling me, and you didn’t?!  Are you out of your ever loving mind?  Do you have no concept of team?  You let your teammates cover your six.  You never go in alone.  Not when a teammate is available!  Never!”