Merrick
The girl was a fighter, he’d give her that.
Having spent the last few minutes watching her fight the urge to fall asleep, using her fear as a buoyancy aid, he discovered a great deal of respect for her—not just because she fought so damn hard, but because it was obvious she’d been fighting for a long time.
The ragged clothes she wore hung off an emaciated frame. She’d wrapped herself up fairly well, but she definitely didn’t have enough layers on to keep the cold at bay and keep her bones warm. And those boots… he could drive his goddamn truck through the holes in those laughable excuses for footwear.
“She’s down and out, Linnie,” he told the doctor, checking to make sure the little waif didn’t find a sudden surge of energy.
“Thank God for that. If she looked at me one more time with that plea in her eyes…” Linnie shook her head, pushing her glasses back up her nose before she resumed cutting. “Aside from the noises she makes, have you heard her say anything at all?”
“No. She tried, when I first found her, but nothing came out. She looked bewildered by it.” He kept stroking her chilled skin, just in case.
“The initial rundown you gave Grit seems to be accurate.” Scraps of filthy jacket dropped to the floor as she snipped away at it. “Mild concussion for sure. Sleep will help with that. I’ll get an IV in and push some warm fluids to help with the cold and dehydration.”
“Her feet are in terrible condition,” Violet chimed in, pity in her voice. “I’m not sure how she’s been able to walk.”
“Probably numb from the cold. Any signs of frostbite?”
“They’re not a healthy color.”
Linnie glanced over, frowning. “Frostnip. Linen closet out in the hall, second shelf down. Wrap her feet in warm, wet cloths, Violet. Get the blood circulating back into those digits. There should be clean blankets and some emergency pairs of self-heating socks. Cover her up, I’ll start at the top and work my way down.”
Merrick lifted an eyebrow. Evidently, the doctor wasn’t perturbed at all by being summoned from her bed at almost three in the morning to deal with a minor clusterfuck. A smart hire on Elias’s part. “Want me to lift her up so you can get behind her?”
“That would be helpful, thank you. Let me just…” The scissors continued to cut along strategic lines, decimating the remnants of the jacket, then the thin thermal shirt beneath. “All right, ease her up. Gently, gently,” she murmured as Merrick used one hand to brace the girl’s head and neck, while raising her up with the other.
The rest of the material landed on the floor. “Poor thing’s black and blue. Couple of nasty lacerations here that need stitching. She’s going to have a rough few days feeling everything she’s been through, whatever that may be. You can put her down again.”
“She can have pain meds, right?”
“Yes, Master Softie, she can have meds. I’ll make sure she’s comfortable.”
Though he grunted in approval, he wasn’t pleased with the nickname. Soft wasn’t something he associated with himself, character or otherwise. He was a connoisseur of pain, an artist who prided himself in blending it in all its shades with pleasure, but he hated seeing someone suffer against their will.
He wasn’t a sadist, didn’t see himself in that role.
He didn’t need pain to get an erection or maintain one. Fucking a sub without utilizing it wasn’t an issue, although any submissive who played with him came to his scene with the full knowledge of exactly what he brought to the table.
Settling the little owl back down, Merrick pinned Linnie with a hard stare. “What’s your game plan?”
She shot him a look in return that told him she wasn’t intimidated. Gently, she picked up the now bare arm, running her fingertips over the tight, red flesh. “Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about this until the swelling goes down. I’ll wrap it with an ice pack for the next couple days, then maybe I’ll be able to cast it. I’ll put her on anti-inflammatories along with the painkillers. They should help with the bruising as well.”
Violet reappeared from the hallway with an armful of blankets and the requested socks; Merrick realized he’d been so preoccupied with Linnie’s exam, he hadn’t seen the Mistress leave.
Laying the wounded limb on the table, the doc studied her patient with a critical eye. “From the state of her clothes and the contusions, I think she took a really bad fall. She does have some old scars I’d like to take a look at, but they’re not a priority. All in all, she’s had a rough ride, needs a lot of TLC. She’s going to be spending a lot of time with me, I’m afraid.”
Merrick’s eyebrows shot up. A laugh burst free, brimming with disbelief. “After that little performance, you think she’s willingly going to stay here of her own accord? She’s terrified in here, Linnie—she was fine downstairs, scared but not out of her wits. She lost her shit the minute I carried her through the door.”
“There’s not a lot I can do about that. Keeping her lightly sedated will help her heal. I’ll speak with Evander and Elias at a more civilized hour and see what they want to do with her; she isn’t a guest, we don’t know where she’s come from. Someone might be looking for her.”
Hmmm, that was a good point.
Pulling his cell phone from his back pocket, he opened the camera app and took several photos of the girl’s face, making sure he caught nothing below her throat. He fired them off to Grit, asking him to check the relevant databases for missing person reports matching her description. “Grit will find her family if they’re searching for her. I’ll speak with Elias myself.”
“My patient,” she reminded him. As though that put an end to it, she walked over to the counter and started gathering items on a tray. “I’m not going to torture the girl, Merrick. Once she understands she’s safe here, everything will be fine.”
He had a differing opinion, but kept it to himself. This wasn’t his area of expertise, and fighting with Linnie now was a waste of time and energy. She hadn’t felt the girl’s terror on an intimate level, in the clutch of that small hand as she begged silently for help.
Everything wasn’t going to be fine, but they’d deal with it when the time came.
Instead of bitching about it, he rolled up his sleeves and helped. As Violet tended to the girl’s damaged feet and began covering the red-and-purple mottled appendages in warm cloths, he cleaned the tears in her flesh so Linnie could start the slow process of stitching them up.
They worked in silence, the quiet only broken if he or Violet asked a question.
Linnie’s focus was utterly centered on her task, and although he wasn’t medically minded, even his untrained eye could see the stitches were immaculate. If they left scars, it wasn’t for lack of care on the doc’s part.
By the time the girl was sewn up, her feet swaddled, the IV and catheter inserted, and her meds administered, Merrick was surprised to see it was almost six a.m.
Linnie finally stepped back, assessing her work. She’d stitched half a dozen deep cuts, and more bruising was coming to light by the hour. There was nothing she could do to immediately fix the girl’s malnourishment or stabilize the broken wrist.
Picking up a blanket, she shook it out and spread it over the naked form on the table, followed by a second. “And for now, boys and girls, our work here is done. I think it’s time you both go home and rest.”
Violet stretched, yawning. “I have to agree with you. My bed is calling.”
“Thank you for the help. It made things a lot easier.” Linnie patted Merrick’s arm. “Same goes for you, big guy. Go get some sleep. God willing, she’s going to be touring Dreamland for a few hours yet.”
God was never willing, he thought dourly. He jerked his thumb at the chair in the corner. “I’ll catch a nap.”
Linnie puffed herself up to her full five-foot-six and folded her arms over her chest. She might have been formidable if not for the glasses sliding down her nose, making her look adorable. “Merrick, don’t make me ban you. You were working all night, and then got dragged into this drama. I know you’re on shift today, and you need rest. Besides, I’d feel better if you’d escort Violet back to her cabin; it’s not safe for her to be wandering around on her own in the snow.”
Several reasons to protest came to mind, but Merrick reminded himself the girl wasn’t really his responsibility. He’d found her, taken care of her until the professional took over, and that was the extent of his duty to her.
Being stuck to her side wasn’t helpful, neither was nurturing a dependency on him.
In all likelihood, Grit would find a report from one of the local police departments and have her reunited with loved ones before the sedatives wore off.
Pushing away the memory of her hand fisting desperately in his shirt, he nodded. “Of course. Can’t have you getting lost in the snow and being kidnapped by the abominable snowman,” he said to Violet. “The bosses wouldn’t be happy.”
“Your concern is touching, Merrick.” Violet yawned again.
Feeling like a bastard, he set his hand lightly on the little owl’s arm, squeezing gently. He wished she’d wake long enough to give him one last look at those beautiful, tawny eyes, but that was just a selfish whim; she was better where she was, floating in sleep, away from the pain. “If I don’t see you again, darlin’, good luck.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Linnie assured him.
That wasn’t in question. Unfortunately, the questions he did have were unlikely to ever get answers, especially if Grit worked his investigative magic to send her home. The smart choice was to walk away and not look back.
Offering his arm to Violet, he did just that.
*
It was almost seven by the time he guided Violet through three inches of snow to her cabin and made it to his own bed. He slid onto cool sheets, burrowed under the covers, and fell asleep with a pair of brown eyes flecked with gray and green haunting him.
When his phone trilled with an alarm, he reached out and dragged his fingers over the screen to snooze it. The incessant noise stopped, much to his relief, only to start again almost immediately.
Not an alarm, he thought with only half his brain engaged.
Groaning, he grabbed the offensive device, tempted to throw it through the window so it sank in the snow outside. Instead, without checking the screen, he swiped his thumb to the right to accept the call. “’Lo.”
“Merrick.”
He groaned again, recognizing Elias’s voice. There was no mistaking the classy British bastard’s voice. He muttered something like, “What the fuck time is it?”
“A little after ten. Sorry to wake you, I know you had a busy night.” Eli sighed softly. “We have a situation, Merrick.”
It wasn’t the words but the grim tone that woke him fully. Eli sounded grim quite often, probably due to the damn accent, but something told Merrick to sit up and listen very fucking carefully. “The girl.”
“Yes, the girl.” A solid thread of steel slammed into Eli’s voice now. “Linnie alerted us to the events of last night a couple of hours ago. Several hours,” he added with a dominant edge, “too late. A breach of security of this magnitude should have been reported to us immediately, Merrick.”
He winced and scrubbed a hand over his face. “In our defense, Eli, we had our hands full. Grit’s head of security; he had things under control from the start. She wasn’t a threat to anyone; there was no point waking you up at stupid o’clock when the matter was handled until morning.”
“Yes, well, things change. She’s gone.”
Merrick bolted upright, ignoring the twinge in his back as overworked, underused muscles complained. “What the hell do you mean, she’s gone?”
“Linnie called this morning to update us. When she returned to check on her patient, the girl was awake and panicking. She ripped the IV out before Linnie could get a sedative in her, somehow yanked the catheter out, and knocked Linnie on her ass. By the time the doctor regained her feet, the girl was gone.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. Barely containing the roar of I fucking told you so, Merrick swung his legs out of bed, switched the call to speakerphone, and began dressing a lot faster than he’d undressed just a few hours ago. “How long?”
“Approximately ninety minutes.”
“And you’re just calling me now?”
A beat of silence. “Should I have done so sooner?”
Yes. No. “I shouldn’t have left her in the first damn place. I warned Linnie the girl was terrified. She hated that room the moment I carried her in, Elias. I felt it, I saw it, and I still let Linnie push me out. Goddamn it.” Wrenching on his pants, he yanked the zipper up and slotted his belt through the buckle. “Where have you looked?”
“Grit has a team searching the grounds, but there’s nothing to suggest she left the building. Luckily, the snowstorm was brief; we only have a couple of inches on the ground, so outside activity is easily tracked.” Eli paused as someone on his side of the line called out something unintelligible. “We’re searching the upper floor now, room by room. Evander, Ericka, and Felicity are covering the ground level.”
Merrick sat on the bed to yank on his socks, then his boots. “Check the supply closet downstairs. I found her in there; she doesn’t know the building. When you’re scared, you go for the bolt hole you know.”
“Evander already has. It’s locked.”
“She’s covered her tracks this time.” Standing, he grabbed his shirt and the phone, striding with them in hand to the bathroom. Loading up his toothbrush, he juggled brushing his teeth and pulling on the shirt. “She’s not a threat, Eli. She’s scared, alone, with no voice to protect herself.”
It took thirty seconds to brush his teeth and rinse.
“She’s an unknown entity running around my club, Merrick.”
“With no clothes and a broken wrist,” he pointed out, heading out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and straight for the front door. He snagged his jacket on the fly, almost ripping the door off its hinges, and slamming it shut behind him as his boots hit the porch. “I’ll be there in five.”
Ending the call, Merrick charged down the porch steps onto the path—both of which were clear of snow and salted, thanks to the grounds crew—and ran like his life depended on it. His boots thudded on the frozen gravel, his breath streaming out into the bitterly cold morning.
Guilt gnawed at him. He shouldn’t have let Linnie twist his arm. There was no reason why he couldn’t have seen Violet back to her cabin, then returned to sit with the girl so she wasn’t fucking terrified yet again when she woke. He’d talked himself into believing she wasn’t his responsibility, but the feeling of dread and failure were very much the product of a man, a Dom, who let the fucking ball drop.
Passing a couple of Grit’s team circling the clubhouse, Merrick bounded up the steps to the door and bulled his way inside. Tossing his jacket on a hook, he didn’t bother seeking out Evander or Elias, but strode straight to the supply closet and tried the handle.
Definitely locked.
Evander would have a master key, he mused. It wouldn’t take long to find the owner and get that key, but every second that went past was a second wasted.
Fuck it, he’d just pay for a new lock. For a new door if necessary.
Gripping the handle, he forced it down, feeling the muscles in his forearm bear the strain. Growling under his breath, he pushed his weight down through his shoulder, his biceps, until he heard the mechanism inside the lock screech in protest, then give.
He pulled the door open, immediately scanning the shadows behind the shelves. There were no tawny eyes blinking back at him, no pale face waiting for him. Just to be sure, before he let worry join the fray with his guilt, he squeezed around the unit to double check she wasn’t tucked away out of eyesight.
“Fuck, little owl. Where the hell are you?”
“Christ, Merrick, did you need to break the door?”
He turned slowly, glowering at the six-foot-seven behemoth now filling the doorway. “It was in my way. Did you find her?”
“We have things called keys,” Evander admonished him, although his words lacked any real punch. “Ericka and Felicity are clearing the bathrooms. The bar’s empty. Eli, Callie, Tabitha, and Linnie are going through every room upstairs that isn’t booked.”
Oh hell, if Tabitha was involved, there might actually be bloodshed at some point. She was Grit’s fiancée, a goddamn firecracker of a sub who was part pitbull. She scared half the club just by breathing, but she was fiercely loyal to her Dom.
“She can’t have gotten far. She’s bruised to high hell; she’s gonna be feeling that now. That wrist will be giving her some pain, and she’ll tire easily.” Meeting Evander’s dark eyes, Merrick bit the bullet. “When we find her, I want permission to take her home. I’m not knocking Linnie, but the girl has a serious phobia. She won't settle in an exam room.”
Evander’s expression softened. “We don’t know who she is, Merrick. Where she came from, what she’s here for. Yes, she’s injured, but why is she out here? There’s nothing around for miles. We have no idea if she’s of age, and she sure as hell hasn’t signed any paperwork. Linnie can make her comfortable while she recovers or until her family is found. If that means sedating her, so be it.”
The smallest, most pathetic sound caught Merrick’s attention.
Throwing a hand up to keep Evander quiet, he cocked his head. Where the hell had that come from? He gestured for his friend to repeat what he’d just said, straining to hear if the noise happened again.
Obligingly, Evander continued, his blond brows lowering into a slight vee. “Linnie says the IV needs to go back in. Fluids and rest are essential. God knows what damage the girl did pulling the catheter out. Keeping her sedated might be the kindest thing for a few days.”
There it was again.
Crouching, Merrick checked the lower shelves, but there was no naked female huddled on any of them, hiding amongst the bottles. Dropping to his knees, he leaned forward, pressing his hands and cheek to the cold tiles. “Evander, would you mind fetching a blanket, please?”
“No way in hell is she under there.”
Maintaining a calm, low voice, Merrick murmured, “She’s here. Hello, beautiful.”
Curled into the fetal position, her broken wrist tucked against her chest, the little runaway blinked at him with those gorgeous eyes cast in shadow. She was trembling violently, through cold or fear, but it was the look of betrayal on her face that cut deep.
“Guess you ain’t too happy with me right now, little owl. Can’t blame you, I’m not real happy with myself at the moment. Made you a promise, didn’t I, and I broke it.” Not his finest trust-building moment, he admitted to himself. “It must’ve been scary, waking up alone with tubes everywhere, not knowing where you are or what was happening. I’m sorry for that.”
Those captivating eyes broke contact. She squeezed them shut, drawing herself in tighter. Her lip quivered, telling him she was miserably unhappy and not swayed in the slightest by his apology.
She was within reach, he calculated. He could snare her ankle and haul her out if she didn’t scoot all the way back to the wall. If he tried to grab her and missed, any hope for trust was gone. She was a feral kitten, wary of humans and traps, despite her need to be comforted.
“Will you let me make it up to you, darlin’? It’s cold on the floor. If you come out, I can get you bundled up in a blanket. Take you where it’s warm and quiet.” Shifting until he was flat on the tiles, he inched closer, holding out his hand. “Look at me, little owl. Come on, give me those beautiful eyes.”
She sniffled, shaking her head.
“Come on,” he coaxed again. “I can lay here all day, but you don’t have that luxury. You’re going to get tired—more tired,” he corrected, “and a lot colder.”
The full force of her misery struck him when she did as he asked and looked at him. Yeah, she was tired. Bone-deep tired. More than that, she was hurting.
“Good girl,” he purred. “Let me help, little owl. I won’t take you back upstairs if you don’t want to go.”
“Merrick,” Evander murmured warningly from behind him.
“No, Evander. We’re not torturing her with the exam room—Linnie can work from my cabin as easily as she can up there.” Merrick didn’t let the little owl drop eye contact. “Trust me, darlin’. I won’t break my promise again.”
A subtle flicker of hope flashed over her drawn face. Slowly, painfully, she wiggled toward him, extending her good arm until her hand fit into his. Her fingers were tiny blocks of ice again, and she whimpered when he grasped them, carefully pulling her from her hiding place.
“Merrick,” Evander said again, this time with an edge of censure.
“My promises, my problem, Evander.” He pushed himself to his knees, easing her up with him. “Isn’t it, little owl? Let’s get you on your feet, if you can stand. How long have you been hiding down there?”
He wasn’t expecting an answer. Whatever was wrong with her voice, it hadn’t rectified itself while she was sleeping. She did try to respond, but gave up and just shrugged a shoulder when nothing was forthcoming.
He stood, guiding her to her feet with a hand under her elbow. She could barely stand straight, her battered body stuck in its hunched position. The bruises were infinitely more vivid this morning, covering a lot more of her than he expected.
“Cover her up before she breaks more bones shivering.” Evander stepped closer, holding out the blanket.
Merrick knew the exact moment the girl clocked his friend; her shoulders tightened as she followed the length of him all the way up from his feet, his torso, to his face. Head tilted back, her mouth dropped open, and she stumbled in painful retreat as her already pale skin became translucent.
Taking the blanket in one hand, Merrick stopped her from bashing into the shelves with the other. “Take a breath, darlin’. He’s a friend. A very large friend, but he won’t hurt you.”
“I’ll step out.” Evander paused. “Are you sure you want to do this, Merrick?”
It wasn’t really a choice. There was right and there was wrong, and leaving her floundering in a strange place, with strangers, when he had the ability to help was definitely wrong. Taking responsibility for her was a gamble, he could admit, especially when Evander and Eli would hold him accountable for her actions if she went off the rails, but how could he leave her to fend for herself?
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Evander sighed heavily. “I’ll get housekeeping to prepare your cabin, and send Linnie over with the necessary medical equipment. Take some time off; I’ll ask Fordham to cover your shifts. Start with a week and we’ll go from there.”
Slipping the blanket around her, Merrick shot his friend an appreciative glance. “Thanks, Evander.”
“Don’t thank me just yet. She doesn’t leave the cabin, Merrick. Not until we find out who she is and what her circumstances are. Definitely not unless her signature is on the relevant paperwork.”
When she was sufficiently bundled up, Merrick scooped her into a bridal carry. At least she’d kept the socks on, he noted. Once he added his jacket to the mix, she should be warm enough for the short walk home. “Pretty sure that won’t be an issue.”
“All right then. If you need anything, you know where we are.”
“Appreciate it.” Adjusting the slight weight in his arms, Merrick’s protective instincts rose as the little owl buried her face against his chest. He carried her from the room. “Mind throwing my jacket over her, Evander? It’s fucking bitter out there.”
The blond Dom’s eyebrows drew together. “Is she going to be warm enough?”
“I think we’ll survive the five minute walk. Not planning on getting lost.”
“Stranger things,” Evander murmured, but strode ahead to pull the jacket off the hook. His expression was sympathetic when he draped the garment over the girl’s upper body. “I’ll send some arnica over. I’ve heard good things about the pill form when it comes to substantial bruising. It might help bring the swelling down on that wrist so Linnie can get a cast on it faster.”
“Anything’s worth a try.”
Evander opened the door, paused, then followed on Merrick’s heels once he closed the door behind them. “Might as well see you home safely,” he said when Merrick shot him a questioning look.
“What you really mean is you don’t want me to slip, fall, break a leg, and leave you to take care of a mute interloper with epic trust issues.”
They fell into step together on the path, both shivering as a gust of cold air swirled around them. Fucking bitter was an understatement—winter in Denver was a bitch.
“The one issue she doesn’t have is trusting you,” Evander pointed out.
And that, somehow, was a miracle all of its own.