Page 146 of At Her Pleasure
Her lips quirked and she pointed a finger at him. “Sit and stay,” she ordered and moved off, shouldering her bag.
“Yes, ma’am,” Mick murmured absently. Two cops were with Cyn now, one of them the agent-in-charge. Because Mick had coached her enough for the meet with Rodriguez, he had no doubt she’d know what pieces of the truth to share.
During his assessment, a prison van had been brought to transport the surviving cartel members. They were gone. In the distance, he saw the flashing lights of the fire trucks, grouped around the warehouse. They were getting it under control, though the air was still smoky. Eyes and throats were going to be raw tomorrow. He could no longer see flames, except for the occasional spout as they overhauled the building.
Two buses rolled up. The ambulances had had to skirt the damaged vehicles, but since then the cops had pushed them to the side to clear the road for the buses. They would transport the ambulatory victims to health centers and temporary shelters.
News vans had arrived some time ago, but were being held behind a police barricade. The network helicopters kept passing over, though. Bright lights had been set up on scene by the cops, but Mick was out of the direct glare and kept his head down. He’d secured a spare bill cap from one of the cop cars to shadow his face.
The AIC was done with Cyn and headed his way. Captain Weatherby, according to his bulletproof vest patch, looked like he was former military. His squinted, steel-colored eyes had seen things as bad as expected for this job.
“Surprised you didn’t have someone watching me to keep me from bolting from this shitshow,” Mick observed.
The captain’s response proved he didn’t miss much. “You aren’t going anywhere she isn’t. So why waste the manpower?”
“She okay?” In the list of emotions Mick was having to keep under tight wrap, his objection to not being right up on her was at the top.
“She’s going to need to go to the hospital, because the bullet needs to be removed, but she’s stable for right now.”
“Lodged in the muscle?”
“Yeah. She told the tech she’d take off a testicle if he gave her anything beyond aspirin. She also won’t answer any questions about you. Says we have to ask you directly, and if we give you a hard time, she’ll gut us in ways turkeys have nightmares about during the holiday season.” Humor passed through his gaze. “That’s a quote.”
Hearing that helped, but knowing the kind of pain she had to be enduring didn’t. Mick rose as the EMTs started to move Cyn into the bus. “If you have questions for me, I’ll be at the hospital. We were working undercover, it went south when the cartel stabbed our contact in the back, and tried to swoop in and take his cargo. We got in the middle.”
The captain glanced toward the victims being moved toward the buses. “According to them, you two kept them from being burned up as collateral damage.”
“Will they be sent home?” The captain had to fall in next to him as Mick strode toward the ambulance. Cyn was saying something and gesturing in his direction. The look on her face said the EMT was about to be in the kind of trouble Weatherby had described.
“The ones who want to go,” Weatherby said. “Those who came here thinking they could find work, we’ll try to get them legitimate work visas.”
Though the people getting on the bus had been checked out, most moved as if they were in shock, overwhelmed.
Would the dull eyes of the young women and teens ever be bright again? Could they laugh or smile without fear hovering in the shadows?
At least they’d have the chance to find out.
The older woman was being helped into the ambulance that contained her granddaughter. The girl appeared to be sleeping, though her brow was creased, her body twitching. Her grandmother bent over her, smoothing her brow.
As if feeling Mick’s regard, she raised her head and met his gaze. Masking the sudden tightness in his chest with a cough, he turned away.
He’d never been present for the victories, such as they were. The good feelings didn’t do him any favors. They piled on top of the other things, putting weight on his chest. He needed to breathe through that, or some overeager EMT would decide he was having a heart attack.
He reached Cyn’s side before she could lunge off the gurney at the EMT. She was bristling like a pissed-off badger. “For the last fucking time, I’m not going without him,” she said.
Mick risked losing a hand by putting it on her shoulder. “You’re not going with me. I’m going with you.” He hoped. “If you’re nice, they’ll give you the bullet when they dig it out. You can string it on the same necklace where you keep the fingerbones and teeth of your past victims.”
She eyed him, but her expression eased. Yes, they had given her aspirin, but it was nowhere near enough for the pain she was in. Perspiration was on her forehead, and he knew that twitchy, just under the skin look.
“Can’t you give her something more?” he demanded, already knowing the answer.
The EMT pointed at her from a safe distance. “She won’t let me.”
She wouldn’t want her senses to be dulled. He got that, but he moved a hand to her face. “I’m here now,” he told her. “I’m okay. Let them give you more.”
“I’m fine.” Cyn’s searing gaze went back to the hapless EMT. “He rides with us.”
“Would I dare say no?” The man responded dryly. He pointed Mick to the bench inside the bus, tacit acceptance and hope in the gesture, that he would keep the badger from bloody mayhem.