by Ann, Bry
He speaks the last word with authority. She blinks a little. A tear catches on her eyelash, falling, but no others form.
“You’re not gonna hurt me?”
Her strawberry blonde hair is in a crazy bun. She has barely any makeup on, outside of the shit smeared on her cheek. She looks dead-ass tired.
Boss shakes his head. “No. I’m here because I don’t want to see anyone else get hurt. Make sense?”
“But-but you’re bad…” she splutters, trying to fit this situation into her two boxes of good and bad. Right and wrong. Good and evil. The first thing you learn in the military is that’s all bullshit. The world and people are almost all grey.
“Yes,” Boss says matter-of-factly.
“But you won’t hurt me?”
“Isla,” he sighs, “sometimes there’s bad and worse and those are your only two options.”
She nods, shaking a little.
“What do you want to know?” Her voice is guarded. Very guarded. My eyebrows furrow. She was open last night. Something happened.
“Isla,” I cut in, interrupting Boss, which I never do, so Boss gives me the floor, “has something happened since yesterday?”
Just like that, her eyes fill with water.
Boss stiffens.
“We’ll protect you,” I say, probably a little too soon, earning an eyebrow raise from Boss. I ignore it, internally wincing.
“I’ll tell you anything pertaining to Nia. Nothing more.”
She lifts her chin a little, trying to act brave.
“It’s appreciated,” Boss says, “but what about you?”
Her face collapses. “I don’t want them to kill me,” she whispers.
My heart does something weird at that. Usually kids are the only people I feel for, but right now, my heart hurts for her so fucking bad.
“They won’t,” Boss snarls, “but you have to tell us what happened. Everything.”
Isla looks over at me, eyes wide. She looks so young and innocent. It’s killing me that she’s in this because of me. Because I walked into her damn office.
“Does he know what I told you yesterday?”
“Yes, Isla,” I say softly.
She sighs with relief, clutching the wall behind her. She’s still plastered to it, which is not escaping our notice.
“But I’ll need you to fill in some gaps for us, okay?”
She nods.
“But first, can you tell me what they did that has you so freaked? Last night aside.”
“I-I stayed at Danny’s last night. He-he kicked Frank out for me.”
“Frank?”
“His boy-boyfriend.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Dan’s gay? Oh. He looked so cozy with Isla last night.
Why am I relieved?
“Okay.”
“I had him drop me off at home early this morning so-so I could get ready for work.”
Shit. Her eyes fill with water again.
“My apartment is trashed,” she cries, throwing her face in her hands. “It’s all tr-trashed. And they threatened Danny. Danny can’t know. They’ll kill him! They’ll kill him,” she whispers. Her legs wobble, and she slips down the wall onto the pavement.
“But Danny won’t back down! He-he won’t. I know Danny. He’s crazy protective of me, as I am with him. He’s my brother.”
She starts to hyperventilate.
“Isla,” I call gently. “Isla.”
Boss and I glance at each other. Lacey has PTSD, so panic attacks are a frequent occurrence in his life. I’m post military, so naturally, I know all about them. He subtly passes the torch to me.
“Isla,” I crouch in front of her. “What did the note say? What did they break? Tell me the message, honey.”
She wipes her nose with the back of her palm.
“It said… ‘We all have that one friend we’d protect at all costs. You call him Danny, correct? Frank was really upset about you, by the way. Paced his apartment for hours. I’m assuming Dan did the same once he was done carrying you up the stairs.’ And…”
Her lower lip wobbles. She looks from me to Boss and shakes her head.
“I can’t,” she whispers.
“Just a little bit more. We’re almost done.”
Her big hazel eyes fill with shame.
“He said… um…” Her voice cracks… “‘Here’s to more next time, doc. You felt good.’”
“Fuck!” Boss hisses under his breath, shoving off his heel to spin in a furious circle. My body vibrates with fury, but because I’m in front of Isla right now and reacting like that will only add to her shame, I stay calm. Outwardly. She doesn’t need dramatics right now.
“So, he was that big a piece of shit, huh?”
Isla looks up at me through her knees, perplexed for a moment, before giving me a tentative smile.
“He was a pretty big piece of shit,” she agrees, smile becoming wobbly.
I extend my hand. “Come on, hun.”
She looks almost afraid of my hand before slowly, tentatively, sliding her palm over mine. The first thing I notice is how soft her hands are. Like baby soft. I’m not kidding when I say arousal smacks me straight across the face instantly. Her hands are shaking and small. So fucking small.
I gently pull, being sure to pull to the side of her uninjured ankle.
“You good?”
She nods. “What else do you want to know?”
“We’ll take care of the damage to your apartment,” Boss barks, body riddled with tension.
“I-it’s a lot.” Her cheeks pinken. “I have nice things. It’s okay, really! I don’t need—”
“We’ll take care of it,” Boss says in a gentler tone. “I’ll have Seven go by and assess the damage. We’ll go from there.”
She looks at me, wide eyed. She’s starting to shake again. I’m trying to put myself in her shoes. I’m mean, Jesus, she’s a pediatrician with a normal life who got thrust into the middle of ours out of nowhere.
“Who are you guys?” she asks, barely audible. Her lower lip is starting to wobble again and her gaze goes to the open part of the nook we’re in.
I pass that question to Boss. What do we tell her? I can see by the conflicted look on his face that he has no clue what to say. He can’t say nothing, but “mafia” is a title we keep under wraps and I don’t think that title would go over well with her.
“Who?” she repeats, a little bit of fire in her words.
Boss studies her. “I’ll tell you, Isla, but when I do, I can’t take the words back. You cannot go to the cops. It’s more information for you to bear. Do you want more knowledge, Dr. Grace?”
She steps back into the wall.
“Let’s keep it how it is now. We’re men willing to help you. You’re in trouble.”
“But that’s not true,” she whispers.
“It’s more complicated than that,” he agrees. “But it’s not wrong either.”
“What does that man want with Nia? What are you guys doing to keep her safe?” Isla pushes off the wall and goes right over to Boss, like the need to protect my daughter eradicates all of her fear. Though I know it doesn’t. She’s just passionate. I saw it in her office when she interacted with Nia.
“She will be safe, Isla.”
Isla’s already shaking her head, vibrating.
“That man cut me with knife, stuck his finger in me, and backhanded me with a giant gold ring all in the matter of minutes.”
Both of our eyes flicker to her cheek and her shaking hands.
“He would have done more, too, but I got away. Imagine what he’ll to Nia since she’s part of your…”
Isla closes her eyes.
“You have to tell the police. There’s FBI and—”
“No,” Boss says harshly. “Isla Grace, you cannot go to the cops. I’m sorry. That’s my final word.”
“But why?! A child is in danger.”
Boss looks over at me, lips curled up a bit, which only serves to piss her off furthe
r.
Talk about a shift in mood… seconds ago she could barely look at Boss, and now she’s practically an inch from his face.
“You and Seven will get along just fine.”
Boss smirks. She huffs, but is slowly cracking at the seams again.
“Isla, what else did the men who hurt you say? How did you meet…” I wince. “Your date?”
She kicks the dirt underneath her feet.
“He’s a patient’s dad,” she mumbles.
Oh, really… I smirk a little at the boundaries she broke. So, she’s not Miss Perfect.
But my smirk dies when her eyes start to water.
“That poor little boy. His dad’s a monster.” Her hands unconsciously wrap around her throat where he held her. “I knew when I saw his face that something was wrong, but Ben seemed so… normal.”
“Did you like him?”
The words come tumbling out before I can stop them, earning a laugh-cough from Boss. Thank fuck Isla doesn’t seem to notice how absurd and inappropriate that question is.
Isla shrugs. “He was nice and handsome.”
“So, no.”
She glares at me under her hair. “I didn’t say that.”
“Not with your words, you didn’t.”
“Ask me your questions or let me get back to work,” she snaps.
“Why are you working?” Boss asks, sounding concerned for her. “You look… well, you look beat to shit, to be honest.”
That earns a glare in his direction. I have to bite my lip to stop my smile.
“It’s been a bad fucking 24 hours, okay?”
I’m still a little flabbergasted that she used the f-word when she brushes past us quickly to get away.
“They’ll come back, Isla,” I call out. She freezes mid-stride. “You can’t just walk off and ignore this.”
Her shoulders slump.
Boss comes up behind her and gently places a hand on her shoulder.
“Did you pack your lunch?”
She shakes her head, resigned.
“Come on. Let’s meet up at Lemeonia’s. I’ve got the tab.”
Lemeonia’s is a fancy as hell Italian restaurant I technically own. Everyone in a power position under Boss has a legitimate business to cover the not-so-legitimate things we do.
“I’ll meet you there,” she says quietly.
Boss nods at me, relieved.
“Thanks, Isla,” I tell her. She looks over at me from above her shoulder and shrugs.
She looks so damn sad.
Chapter Seven
Isla
By the time I finish with my last patient, I’m dead on my feet. I slip into the break room and crash on a chair. Apparently, getting the shit beaten out of you and being questioned by what I’m pretty sure is a mafia boss really takes it out of you.
I feel like I landed in one of my books, and I don’t like it. It’s easy to read and get lost, knowing a happy ending is coming. But this is my life and could easily end in tragedy.
“Isla, do you need help to your car? And text our boy back, will you? Danny’s blowing up my phone since you haven’t been answering yours.”
“I’m good, Keisha. Thanks, I’ll text him.”
Keisha plops down in the chair next to me.
“Wanna talk? Should I go kill him? I have friends. We all crazy. I’d do it.”
I give her a tired smile. “No, I’m good.”
“Isla, you don’t deserve this. You’re such a good person.”
I shrug. Apparently, that’s my new thing. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.
I slide my phone in my hand to see a new text from Danny.
Danny Boy: You have two minutes before I come to get you. I don’t care if you drove yourself. I’ll bring Frank too and we’ll both scold you together.
I smile at my phone.
Me: Frank couldn’t yell if he tried.
