Kevin placed his sketchpad and pencil on the floor then flexed his stiff hand. The clock on the nightstand said twenty minutes to four, in the morning. She’d been down for over twenty-four hours. He’d slept some fitfully in the middle of the day. Mostly he’d watched over her, arguing with himself about whether or not to break his promise and call a doctor. Once she stopped tossing and turning so much and fell into a deeper sleep, he’d relaxed somewhat and started sketching. Every image of her face was shadowed with bruises. Just looking at her red and tattered knuckles made his own hands hurt. He hadn’t meant to draw her hands but when she lay with them on top of the covers, he’d stared until he had to exorcise the image by drawing it. So much power there, and so much damage.
Dani stirred in her sleep, whispering the same name that had slipped out a few times earlier. He abandoned his chair by the window and eased onto the edge of the bed. Smoothed her hair from her brow then adjusted the duvet. Her breathing quickened and her legs moved restlessly under the covers. Whatever bad dream she was having, he decided to wake her up now before it turned into a full blown nightmare. He shook her gently and spoke her name.
She sat up so fast he had to scoot out of the way or they would have knocked heads. She stared at him, unseeing, for a long moment, then sat back against the pillows. “Everything hurts.”
He grabbed a water bottle from the nightstand. “Drink a little. It’ll help.” Once she took the bottle he reached for the first aid kit on the floor and found the bottle of leftover prescription pain pills he’d shared with her earlier. “It’s been long enough, you can take another one of these.”
She drank half the bottle before answering. “I don’t want it.”
He placed a single pill in his palm and held it out. Didn’t say a word. Just looked at her.
She relented. “Okay, fine.” Pill swallowed, she drank the rest of the water in silence.
He moved to sit next to her. “There’s nothing in the news about it.”
“Why would there be? Unless her body turns up.”
“What happened?” She’d been far too out of it to talk after he’d picked her up.
“The Russian’s name is Ilya Bessonov.” She screwed the cap back on the plastic bottle. “He was there. He shot her.”
Kevin drew in a ragged breath. He’d figured the girl was dead. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“How did you wind up in such bad shape?”
She shrugged, the movement followed by a wince. “I had to go through a lot of bad guys to get her through the building. Bessonov was at the loading bay door.”
Where he’d picked her up. “What happened to him?”
“I tried my damnedest to beat the hell out of him. He had his stun gun, so it didn’t…it didn’t go my way. I managed to nail him pretty good with the pepper spray, though.” She climbed out of bed, moving like an old boxer after way too many knockouts.
“You sound pretty nonchalant about the whole thing.”
“So? You think I should sound some other way?” She stretched her arms over her head, the hem of her tank top riding up to show a slice of skin above her sleep shorts. The right side was mottled with bruising. “It didn’t work out, and now I’m done.”
Kevin pushed his glasses up and bit back a sarcastic response. “It was a terrible night, I know. That doesn’t mean you give up.”
Dani walked slowly toward the bathroom. “It was a rough night for me. Masha’s the one who had the terrible night. Is my ID in yet?”
Jesus, she was really fucked up. It was one thing to be so defensive, try to put up a front about how she felt, but leaving town? The bad thing was, her ID was in, sitting in an envelope downstairs on his desk. It had been delivered that morning. He didn’t want her to leave, didn’t think she really wanted to give up on finding that last girl, but he didn’t want to lie to Dani, either.
“Yeah, it’s here.”
Dani halted with her back to him. Her arms and shoulders were an abstract of old and new bruises. “Good. I’ve done all I can do. I need to leave town before the wrong people find me.”
“There’s still one more girl out there.”
She started walking again. “Someone else will have to find her.”
“Nobody can do what you can, Dani. She needs you.”
This time when Dani stopped she turned to face him. “What I can do? You mean fuck up and get her killed? She doesn’t need that.”
He left the bed and went to stand in front of her. “You have extraordinary abilities. You’ve helped so many people. I know you want to help her, too.”
“I can’t. Don’t you get it? You think because I saved your life that I’m some kind of hero. I’m not. Get that through your head.” She turned away from him. “I’m not any kind of hero.”
“What’s her name?”
“What does it matter?”
“Is it Molly?”
Dani froze. “How do you know that name?”
“You said it in your sleep, several times. Is that what the last Russian girl calls herself? It’s not a very Russian name.” He came up behind her and put his hands lightly on her shoulders, wishing she would take the comfort he offered, knowing she wouldn’t. “You said, I’m sorry Molly. I’m so sorry. Who is Molly?”
She trembled under his touch then jerked away. “None of your damn business.”
He clenched his hands in frustration then dropped them to his sides. “You can talk to me.”
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “I can’t do any of it.”
“What can’t you do? You tell me what you think you can’t do, and I’ll tell you how you’re wrong.”
Tense silence stretched out between them. It gave him hope, that she was reconsidering, that she might actually open up to him again. The secrets she’d shared about the lab and what was done to her there – that was enormous. Why couldn’t she trust him now, with whatever was tearing her up inside? Because it was obvious something was, something more than Masha’s loss. When the first girl was found dead, Dani had been so determined to save the others and stop the killer. What had changed? Who was Molly, and what did she have to do with Dani suddenly wanting to run away and leave town?
Dani shook her head. “I can’t. Don’t ask me to talk about it.” He reached for her, fingertips sliding down her arm as she started walking again. “I need a shower. When I come downstairs, I want the ID. It’s time for me to go.”
The bathroom door closed, and it felt like a rebuke. He collected his sketchpad and left the room.
It was nearly an hour before she came downstairs. Dani wore black jeans and a gray Henley underneath his jacket. A small duffel was slung over her shoulder. She stopped in the middle of the living room and looked everywhere but at him. “Mind if I keep the clothes?”
“Of course not.” He gave her the envelope with her new ID. “Keep the jacket, too. It looks good on you.”
Her gaze met his for nearly two whole seconds. “Thanks.” She took the envelope, not bothering to look inside. “Thank you for everything.”
He moved closer to her, then closer still when she didn’t back away. Tipped her chin up and stroked her jawline, her cheek. “I wish you would stay.”
“I can’t. You know that.”
“At least an hour or two. Let me cook you breakfast.”
“No. I should go now.”
He nodded, because there was nothing else to say. Not that would make a difference. “My door is always open, if you change your mind.” He leaned down and kissed her, thrilled to feel her kiss back. A soft brush of lips, just enough pressure to make him want to take it further but not enough to be considered an invitation.
Then she was gone.