Fighting Hard (2 page)

Adam came around the corner and saw Nick sitting in the car. He ran over, scarcely giving the unconscious guy at his feet a second glance.

“Is she OK?”

“I don’t think so. She’s totally out, man, and freezing cold. You’ve got to call an ambulance.”

“My phone is back at the club. I’ll call and come right back. Give me two minutes.”

“You want to do something about this bastard before you go?” Nick pointed his chin at the creep.

“Yeah. Sure thing.”

Adam popped the trunk and picked up the guy like his dead weight was nothing. Without ceremony, Adam tossed him in to the trunk and slammed it closed.

“He’ll only be in there for ten minutes or so,” Adam said. “Just until the ambulance comes. Then I’ll haul him out and wait for the cops.”

Nick shrugged. “I really don’t give a crap. You can leave him in there all night, as far as I’m concerned.”

“It’s tempting. OK, I’ll be right back. Hold on.”

After Adam had gone, Nick turned his attention back to the woman. He brushed her hair back off her face and examined her injuries more closely. She’d have a bad bruise on her cheek, no doubt about it, and it looked like she’d need stitches for that gash. Gently, he pressed his t-shirt down on her temple, trying to stop the bleeding.

Mia felt a horrible pain shoot through her head and she groaned. She tried to lift her hand to touch her forehead but she wasn’t able to move.

“Hey,” a deep voice rumbled under her ear. “Hey, are you OK?”

Mia fought to open her eyes but the lids felt impossibly heavy.

“Can you hear me?” Somebody was lightly touching her face now. “You’re going to be OK. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

For a few seconds, Mia was able to hear and feel everything: she was pressed up against a naked chest that was rising and falling steadily. She felt the man’s heartbeat against her cheek, and his warmth spread over her whole body. She heard his voice and felt his arms around her. His hands were gentle as they stroked her hair.

Then – between his breaths and heartbeats – she blacked out completely and knew nothing more at all.

Chapter Two

Nick sat in the hospital E.R., wondering for about the hundredth time just
why
he was sitting in the hospital E.R. His part in this whole mess was – for all intents and purposes – over now.

He had stayed with the woman, holding her and trying to get her warm, until the ambulance arrived. The attendants took over and he had stepped to one side with no regrets. When Adam came back, the two of them pulled the dickhead out of the trunk – much to the surprise of the ambulance guys – and practically sat on top of him until the cops came. That, Nick thought, was it. The woman was off to the hospital, the cops would take the dickhead. End of story.

It occurred to Nick, though, that the woman’s friends might be interested in what had happened to her and they would want to go to the hospital. He went back to the club and looked around, his heart sinking. They were gone. He did two laps, even had Sarah check the ladies’ bathroom, but no luck. They had moved on.

He returned to the side street where the cops had the asshole in handcuffs and were questioning him. He had a huge bump on his head and his chin was already turning a satisfying dark purple. Nick glowered at him.

“Hey!” the dickhead whined. “This is the guy who hit me! I want to press charges!”

The one cop rolled her eyes. “Seriously?”

“Yeah… he assaulted me!”

Nick smirked, remembering how easy the guy had gone down with barely a tap.

“Any luck with her friends?” asked the second cop.

“Nope. They’re gone.”

“Damn. Do you know her?”

“No. I served her exactly one drink tonight and it was a glass of juice. We barely spoke.”

“So you don’t know her name?”

Nick blinked. “No. Where’s her ID?”

“In her purse, I imagine. And we can’t find that anywhere.”

Nick looked down at the woman lying on the stretcher and felt a tug in his chest. She was drugged and unconscious, nameless, all alone. She was going to come to in the hospital, and she’d be in pain and have a stitched-up head and be completely terrified. And what would she do after? No purse meant no phone, no money, no house keys. How was she going to get home? Who was going to help her?

Goddammit
.

“OK, look. I’ll go back to the club and ask the staff to look for her purse… maybe she dropped it when he was dragging her out. And I’ll go to the hospital and wait with her there.”

The female cop raised her eyebrows at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel kind of responsible for her. I mean, this asshole drugged her right in front of me and I totally missed it.”

“OK. And if the purse turns up, let us know, OK?” The woman handed him a card.

“Sure.” He pocketed the card and headed back to the club to tell his boss what was going on, wondering just why the hell he gave a damn what happened to this woman.

And now here he sat in the E.R., waiting on news about a total stranger, a woman he had held against his chest and whispered to as he stroked her face; he had comforted her and been worried about her. He realized that those few minutes alone in the back seat of the car had somehow connected him to her, and he had to see this through.

This was very unusual for him: Nick Spencer never connected to any woman. And he certainly never saw anything through. Quick, casual, easy fuck, gone with the sunrise – that was his life. That was how he liked it. He’d make sure this woman got home safely and then she’d be gone for good.

He settled down to wait for the doctor.

**

Dr. Sam Inglis read over the patient’s chart and blood results. No doubt about it. She had ingested a massive dose of Rohypnol, enough to knock her out for at least eight hours and to wake up with absolutely no memory at all. Sam shuddered to think what may have happened to this young woman if the bartender hadn’t stepped in.

“OK, keep giving her fluids,” he told the nurse. “I’ll be back to check her in an hour. Are the police here yet?”

She glanced up at him. “No. I’ll tell you when they arrive.”

“Thanks. I’ll go talk to the guy in the waiting room.”

The nurse nodded and wished that
she
could be the one to update the guy who was waiting for news about this woman. He was the best-looking, sexiest thing she’d ever seen in the E.R. He was tall and wide and his eyes were like steel. Come to think of it, so were his biceps and pecs; even his forearms were pure muscle. This was one powerful guy. The kind to sweep you off your feet and throw you to the bed without any apologies at all.

Sam looked around the waiting room and spotted Nick.

“Are you with the woman from the club?”

“Yeah. Is she OK?”

“Still unconscious. We’re pumping her with fluids now, trying to flush the drugs out of her system. I hope she’ll wake up in an hour or two.”

“Jesus. He really dosed her, huh?”

“Yes.”

“So when she wakes up, how’s she going to feel?”

“Like hell. She’ll probably be dizzy and confused, and I imagine she’ll be chilled and have the shakes as a reaction to the drugs. She may also have trouble moving properly.”

“What? She won’t be able to walk?”

“No, I mean she’ll be uncoordinated. Many people who have been dosed with Rohypnol are clumsy and sluggish and unbalanced when they come to.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes and sighed. “She’ll need to lie down for several hours, preferably in her own bed. Any luck finding her purse?”

Nick shook his head. “Not yet.”

“I hope it turns up… she needs to get home.”

Nick was surprised at the next words that came out of his mouth: “Can I see her?”

“Of course. This way.”

Nick followed Dr. Inglis down the hall packed with gurneys on both sides. It was noisy and crowded and many people were just reeling around aimlessly. A male nurse was trying to get one guy to lie down, a doctor was trying to calm down a hysterical mother.

Sam saw Nick’s expression. “Friday night. We have more than our fair share of injuries.”

“And drunks,” Nick said watching a group of teenagers energetically puking in to paper bags.

“Yep. Totally normal.” He opened a door at the end of the hall. “In here.”

Nick stood in the doorway, looking at the woman in the bed. She was attached to an IV and something clear was dripping in to her arm. He walked closer and saw the stitches along her hairline. A nurse was just putting a bandage on them.

“How’s her head?”

“Bad cut, pretty deep. It looks like he punched her in the face and she rebounded off a brick wall. Maybe the ground.”

Nick stared at her, so small and helpless, and felt anger swelling in his chest. She had done nothing at all to deserve anything that was happening to her.

Fuck. Maybe I should have hit him just a little bit harder.

“Can I sit with her for a few minutes?”

“Sure. And if you can stay, I’d appreciate that. I’d like someone to be here when she wakes up – she’s going to be very disoriented.”

“But she doesn’t know me. I mean, I don’t even know her name.”

Sam Inglis shrugged. “You’re literally the only person in this whole E.R. who had any contact with her when she was conscious. Compared to the rest of us, you
do
know her. You’re the best person for her to wake up to, at least right now.”

**

The first thing Mia felt was blinding pain. Her whole head felt like someone had taken to it with a pair of steel-toed work boots. She tried to move her arms, but it was difficult; she tried to move her legs, but that also didn’t work. She couldn’t seem to get her limbs to do what she wanted them to do. She turned her head, slowly, wincing.

“Hey,” a voice said. “Hey, are you awake?”

Mia opened her eyes, closed them again as the light stabbed her head.

“Hey.” A hand touched hers. “Are you there?”

“Hurts.” Her voice was ragged and rough.

“Yeah, I know. I know it hurts. But you’re going to be fine.”

She opened her eyes again, squinted at the man sitting next to her. He looked vaguely familiar.

Nick met her eyes and noticed for the first time that they were an unusual color of brown – they were so light and clear they were almost gold. He stared in to them, wondering how he had missed them at the bar.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked.

She closed those amazing eyes again. “I remember – the club. Iris and Vanessa and Sally… I was talking to some guy.” Her eyes flew open. “You’re the bartender.”

“Yeah. And that guy you were talking to at the club? He put something in your drink.”

She gazed at him. “He – what?”

“Yeah. Rohypnol.”

“The date rape drug?”

Nick nodded.

Despite the pain in her head, Mia tried to sit up, panicked. “Are you saying that he – he –”

Nick got to his feet, alarmed. “No. Hey, no. I got to you in time… he didn’t get anywhere close to that.” He touched her carefully, easing her back down to the pillow, noticing how pale she was. “Just relax, OK? You had to get some stitches on your head. You need to stay down and rest.”

Mia reached up with one shaky hand and touched her head.
A bandage
. She blinked at the stranger next to her bed.

“So – so I don’t understand. You stopped this guy… and you stayed with me? Here?”

“Yeah.”

“Didn’t you call my friends?”

“I couldn’t. Your purse has gone missing and nobody knows where it is. Which reminds me.” He smiled at her and she stared at his gorgeous face. “What’s your name?”

“Mia. Mia Ferris.”

“Well, Mia Ferris. I’m Nick Spencer. It’s good to finally meet you properly.”

“I still don’t understand what’s happening.”

“Look, I’m going to get the doctor, OK? He’ll need to check you over anyway, and he can explain everything. Hang tight – I’ll be right back.”

Mia watched him leave the room and looked around. She was obviously in a hospital, but that was all she knew for sure right this second. Where were her friends? Where was the guy from the bar who did this to her?

Nick reappeared and stood back watching as the doctor came over to Mia.

“Hi, Mia. I’m Dr. Inglis.”

“Hi.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy. Sick.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“Ummmm.” She closed her eyes, trying to zero in on someplace specific. “My head, mostly. Also my neck and shoulder. My cheek.” She reached up to touch her face but Dr. Inglis gently stopped her hand.

“Don’t touch, OK? The guy who drugged you punched you there. It’s not broken, but it’s going to hurt for a while.”

She stared at him, totally bewildered.

“He – he punched me?”

“Yes.” Sam Inglis smiled at her, trying to be reassuring. “You had a bad cut on your head, but you don’t have a concussion. You’re going to feel confused and woozy for several hours, mostly from the drug.”

“Can I go home?”

“Do you have some way to get in to your place? An extra set of keys somewhere?”

She shook her head, confused. “What do you mean? Why do I need an extra set?”

“Your purse, Mia.” Nick spoke from the doorway. “Your purse is lost, remember?”

“It is?”

“Yeah. I told you that.”

“Oh. Oh, right.”

“So do you have a friend with a set of keys to your place, maybe?”

“Uh, yeah. But she’s away for the weekend.”

“OK. Now, you haven't got your cell phone so can we call someone for you?” Dr. Inglis asked. “Family? Boyfriend?”

“My family’s back in New England, and I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Anyone we can call to pick you up? Friend? Co-worker?”

She shook her head again. “The only people whose numbers I know by heart are Katie, Reena and Maggie, and they’re all away together at a conference.”

Dr. Inglis looked down at her. “OK. You can stay here until the police can sort all this out. Alright? We’ll move you out to the hallway and you can try to get some rest there.”

Nick glanced behind him at the field of battle that was the hospital corridor. If possible, it was even noisier and messier than it had been ninety minutes earlier. “Out there?”

“I’m afraid so,” Sam Inglis said. “We’ll need this room for another patient.”

Nick looked at Mia and shook his head. “No way. She won’t get any sleep at all in that hallway.”

“My options are limited.” Dr. Inglis looked regretful. “We won’t be admitting her to the general hospital, so until she can walk out of here, Mia will have to stay in the E.R.”

“I’m sure I’m fine to walk,” she said. “I don’t want to be in the way…”

“No,” Nick said. “No, you stay right where you are. I’ll sit with you until we figure this out. OK?”

What the fuck are you doing, Spencer? She’s awake and there’s a whole floor-f of staff paid to deal with her. Roll her in to the goddamn hallway and bolt.

“Really?” Mia asked.

No, not really. I want to go. You’re on your own, sweet thing.

“Yeah, really.” He didn’t understand what was wrong with him, why he was saying these insane things. “I’ll stay.”

**

Nick sat in the hallway next to Mia’s gurney, watching her sleep. He couldn’t believe she
was
asleep, actually. The noise and activity was crazy. It had to be the roofies – he was sure she hadn’t fallen asleep so much as passed out.

She moaned softly and turned her head. He brushed her hair back off the bandage and his fingers lingered on her skin, stroking it, marveling at its softness. She moaned again; she sounded more agitated this time. Nick paused, wondering if he should get some help.

Mia woke up suddenly. Her eyes shot open and she gasped.

“Mia,” he said. “Are you OK?”

She looked at him, her eyes unfocused. “Nick?”

At least she remembered his name. “Yeah. I’m here.”

She took a deep breath.

“Hey,” he said. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m cold, for some reason.”

“Dr. Inglis said this might happen. It’s the drug.” He grabbed an extra blanket from an empty gurney and wrapped it around her. “Is that better?”

She nodded. “Thanks.”