Little Sunshine

6. Keep Your Cool

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Mila swallowed up by the hospital bed—vulnerable and pale with tubes sticking out of her bruised arms.

And every damn time, my murderous rage was stoked.

I paced the private room, waiting for her to return from some scans. My attempt to follow had been shot down by harried nurses who’d bluntly told me I would be in the way.

It made me fucking antsy to have her out of my sight, but the sooner it was done, the better. They’d already run X-rays, blood work, more blood work, and had her hooked to an IV.

She’d slept through it all.

The sedative Dr. Pierce had slipped her under the guise of pain meds wasn’t to blame. He’d only given a low dose—enough to relax her and chip away at some of the pain.

My cell buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see it was one of the few people I wanted to talk to right then. “What’d you find?”

Cole was unfazed by the lack of unnecessary pleasantries. He clacked away at a keyboard, the noise carrying like he was on speakerphone.

The fact he’s still at it and unwilling to stop long enough to make this call isn’t a good sign.

My suspicion was confirmed when he bit out, “I was able to trace her down the street on the SafeCams, but the farther I got, the fewer cameras there are until I lost her altogether.”

Damn.

SafeCams were an extensive system of security cameras that were supposed to prevent crime.

They were also supposed to be confidential.

Cole often and easily hacked into them—occasionally to help us commit a crime.

“Any luck on her background?” I asked.

“Not a lot of luck for me or your girl, it seems.”

That raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “What’s that mean?”

“She might’ve been born and raised in Vegas, but she’s had shit luck her whole life.” Disgust filled his tone when he added, “Starting with the cunt who birthed her.”

“That bad?”

“Fucking worse. A few pops for drunk and disorderly, trespassing, assault, typical trash shit.”

None of that was earning her a nomination for Mother of the Year, but it wasn’t the worst we’d heard. Not enough to warrant Cole’s anger.

“Handful of CPS cases, too.” That made the pieces click together to form a picture that hit close to home for him. “Sending your girl to school in dirty clothes. Not having food in the house.” The emotion drained from his words until he sounded cold and robotic. “Leaving her home alone for days at a time.”

“And she was able to keep custody?”

“Still digging, but other than losing her for a brief stint after a report of suspected neglect, yeah.”

“What’d you find out about Mila’s life now?”

“Camila Price. Twenty.”

I knew she was young, but hell. A dozen years younger than me?

Unaware of that hit to my underused conscience, Cole continued. “Lives in a studio apartment with more violations than residents. Has worked at The Roulette as a housekeeper since she was sixteen—on paper, at least. Could’ve been longer. They’ve been busted for employing minors under the table.”

I tried to remember which place that was. “The dump near the old shopping center that got torched?”

“That’s the one.”

Christ. Just driving by that place could give someone bed bugs and an STI.

I didn’t wonder why she worked in a shithole like that. Or why she lived in a slum apartment that was likely worse than the bad I already pictured.

Simple answer.

The universe had a fucked sense of humor.

Pretty girls with haunted blue eyes faced bullshit after bullshit while undeserving assholes like me were born with gold spoons in their mouths.

She worked and lived like that because she had to.

Had.

Past tense.

“What else?” I asked, desperately wanting to know more about her. Needing to know it all.

“That’s all I’ve got. She’s got no socials. No dating apps. Never seen someone with no digital footprint. Especially someone her age.”

“Maybe she uses a fake name.”

“If I had her mom, I’d want to go undetected, too.”

“You think you can get more info on the CPS cases?”

“Already on it.”

Usually, questioning his skills to hack into anything would be an insult, but there was no offense or cockiness in his voice. It was nothing but determination—once again showing how close her history was to his own.

How deep it cut.

“Try not to get busted.” My words turned distracted when I saw Mila’s bed being pushed through the double doors at the end of the hall. “I don’t have time to bail you out.”

“I was trying to be nice, but now you’re just being outright rude.” He gave a dramatic sigh that was undercut by another burst of rapid typing. “I’ll send over what I have so far.”

Cole and I—along with Marco—worked for Maximo Black. Not as employees of Black Resorts, but for him personally.

Juliet called us his goons, and she wasn’t far off.

Marco put his immense knowledge of causing bodily harm into being his bodyguard.

Cole was a fucking computer nerd—not that I’d ever seriously call him that since he could ruin my life with three clicks of a mouse. He kept all our tech updated and top of the line. Including, of course, Maximo’s stalker cameras.

And I was his second. His right-hand. Driver. Bodyguard. Intermediary. Enforcer. Scheduler, fill-in, and, on previous occasions, math tutor to his wife.

We’d earned our places in his small inner circle by being the best at what we did.

Which was how I knew Cole would have the files within days.

If not before.

“Get me the footage from the lobby today, too,” I said.

“On it.”

I clicked off and opened the door before stepping aside so they could push the bed in. Since they’d been gone a while, I expected Mila to be awake and ready to give me hell. But when transport got the hell out of my way, I saw her eyes were still closed.

I thought she was asleep, but the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders gave her away.

“I know you’re awake, baby.”

Her voice may have been soft, but it was filled with venom when she gave me the expected hell. She just did it in a way that hurt worse than hurled insults. “You broke your promise.”

It’d been for her own good, but fuck, I hated hearing the betrayal in her words.

“Technically, it was the doc.” I didn’t hesitate to throw him under the bus. Or at least drag him down with me.

“He didn’t promise. You did.” She paused for a moment, a few tears escaping her closed lids. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

With that sucker punch, she rolled over and curled into herself, looking even smaller. Vulnerable.

The murderous rage knocked at my sternum harder, eager to be let out.

Dr. Pierce moved into the doorway and jerked his head.

I brushed Mila’s hair from her face. “I’ll be right back, baby.”

“Take your time,” she said sweetly. “A hundred years will be too soon.”

“I’ll aim for fifty.”

It was small and quick, but I caught the curve of her lips before she smothered it.

I would take it.

Once I was in the hall, Dr. Pierce reached around to close the door. “I can’t give you specifics about a patient.”

I lifted an expectant brow.

“But I can tell you about a hypothetical patient. Hypothetical. If you say anything to a real patient”—he tilted his head toward the closed door—“that so much as implies I told you anything, I’ll cut off my partnership with Mr. Black. I don’t care how mutually beneficial it may be.”

Maximo had first seen Dr. Pierce after he’d taken a bullet as a teenager—one meant for his crooked old man. Over the years, we’d kept him busy with an assortment of injuries. In exchange, he was paid a shit-ton.

Not to mention, Black Resorts made generous donations to the different charities and fundraisers the hospital organized.

We weren’t the first or only patients Pierce saw off the record. He worked on his own code that wasn’t dictated by hospital policy or insurance company bullshit, and the money Maximo donated also went toward that.

“Got it,” I agreed.

“The hypothetical patient has a concussion, but the CT didn’t show swelling. No broken bones but a lot of bruising.” He glanced into the room, his lips thinning out. “I’m going to prescribe something, but she should alternate ice and heat on her face and ribs.”

I’ll text Marco to drop supplies at my house since I have even less than the understocked kit at Moonlight.

“Her loss of consciousness wasn’t from her injuries. They’re painful, and even a minor concussion could be dangerous, but they aren’t as extensive as I’d feared. The biggest issue is her labs. Her metabolic panel and vitamin levels show she’s malnourished.”

That wasn’t a surprise. It was a safe bet that someone who pickpocketed to buy a burger, didn’t blink at almost passing out, and had a system in place so they didn’t get sick while eating didn’t have unlimited access to healthy food.

“I’m going to start her on some supplements to get her vitamin levels where they should be. I’ll get you a list of foods she needs to eat more.” Pierce paused for a second before clearing his throat. “I’m assuming you’re staying with her, but if not, with a concussion?—”

“She’s coming home with me.”

“Good.” His gaze drifted back to her, his expression tightening. “Whoever did this to her caused a lot of pain to a body that was already weakened. I took an oath to do no harm…” He gave me a pointed look.

“But I didn’t.”

“Good,” he repeated. “Now keep yourself together for this next part, or I’ll have every security guard in the hospital remove you.”

I didn’t get the chance to ask what he meant before he opened the door and moved to Mila. I followed him in, staying back and silent even though I wanted to be close. Wanted to make her feel safe.

Wanted to force her to look at me when she wouldn’t even glance my way.

Pierce washed his hands before checking Mila over, asking questions as he worked. None of it warranted the warning he’d given me, but Mila still answered like her defenses were a mile high.

When he pulled a stool over and sat close, she eyed him warily but remained silent.

Giving nothing away.

“Do you want Ash to wait in the hallway?” he asked, and I wanted to strangle him with his own stethoscope for even giving her the option.

She can want it, but it ain’t happening.

Still not looking at me, she shook her head.

I took the win.

Dr. Pierce gave her the same recap of her test results. She didn’t seem surprised by anything other than the lack of broken bones.

“So I’m good to go?” she asked when he finished.

No questions on what to do. No concern for her low nutrient levels. No fear of what anything meant or what could happen to her.

Christ. If she’s not going to take care of herself, she needs someone to do it for her.

My chest tightened, but I ignored the sensation. Ignored my thoughts.

Ignored my needs.

“Not yet.” Dr. Pierce grabbed a metal tray and pulled it closer. “The most effective way to boost these levels is via a shot.” He looked over his shoulder at me before adding, “In the buttock.”

That’s why he told me to control myself.

He thinks I’ll lose my shit over him seeing and touching her ass.

To be fair, I was already possessive of the woman I barely knew, but not so bad that I’d try to stop the doc from treating her.

He started to explain what he was giving her and any side effects, but Mila didn’t seem to care. Didn’t question. Still didn’t look at me. Stone-faced, she rolled in bed like it was nothing.

Dr. Pierce’s body blocked hers as he gave her the shots.

The second he finished, she asked, “Now am I good to go?”

“Almost.” He put some space between them but stayed seated at her level. “Mila, we noticed some severe bruising on your breasts during your exam. I need to know if they?—”

Bruising.

Breasts.

Fucking fuck.

Pierce hadn’t been worried about the shot in her ass. It was how I’d react to these questions. To her answers.

“No,” she interrupted.

He kept his voice soft and matter of fact. “If they did, we need to start you on some precautionary medications and run a?—”

“They didn’t. I’ve never even…” Her swollen eyes finally went to me, her face flushing.

It took a second to understand why she looked embarrassed. To get what she was saying.

Seeing I had zero reaction to her admission, Mila returned her focus to the doctor. “I swear it. They didn’t get that far.”

They didn’t get that far.

Her words kept cycling in my head, but I heard what wasn’t there.

They didn’t get that far.

But they would have.

Mila’s eyes shot back to me as I shoved my hands in the pockets of my slacks to stop myself from chucking something across the room. It took every fucking ounce of control I had, but I kept my expression blank. Relaxed. I stayed where I was when all I wanted to do was pull her to me and tell her all the ways I’d make those motherfuckers pay.

In graphic detail that still wouldn’t come close to what I’d do once I found them.

Standing, Pierce dropped needles in the bin and looked at me. “Because of her concussion, I’ll give you a list of things to watch for.”

Mila gave a little scoff. “That’ll be difficult for him to watch for anything since I don’t plan to ever see him again.”

Oof, my fucking pride.

Pierce’s words were firm. “You have to stay with someone.”

“I have a roommate,” she said instantly. “He’ll wake me up and make sure I’m not dead.”

She’d kill in a poker tournament.

I was almost certain she was lying, but there was no tell. No overselling it. No emphasis. No fidgeting. No stuttering.

Pierce called her flawless bluff. “Good. He will need to pick you up so I can give him the discharge instructions before I release you.”

Mila’s face fell before she quickly caught herself and smoothed it out. “He’s at work until the morning.”

“You can stay here and rest until then. That’ll give the pharmacy time to get your prescriptions ready. Are you allergic to hydrocodone?”

“I don’t need anything. I have Motrin.” She tilted her head to look at him. “Actual Motrin.”

I wanted to take her over my knee for being so frustratingly stubborn, but I couldn’t.

She was already injured.

She’d already punched me in the dick once that day.

And she wasn’t mine.

Rather than threatening her with a punishment I had no right to give, I said, “Don’t be a martyr, little girl.”

“This is none of your business,” she snapped at me.

My lips quirked, but before I could respond to tell her I was making every damn thing about her my business, Pierce sat again. “Mila, you’ve got some nasty bruising. Over-the-counter pain medication won’t cut it.”

“It’s what I have, so I’ll make do.”

I had no damn clue why she’d turn down relief when she was clearly in pain. Just like I had no damn clue why her cheeks flamed red under the bright hospital lights.

But Pierce knew. “There’s no copay for this visit or any prescriptions.”

Her eyes closed as her head dropped back. “I don’t have insurance, so not only will there be charges, they’re gonna be big.”

“Mila, we don’t bill people who?—”

Mila shot back up, her voice adamant. “I am not charity.”

“I never said you were. It’d be the same for anyone.”

I wasn’t sure if that was the hospital’s official policy or just the doc’s, but it didn’t matter.

Her expression didn’t look happy, but her body language shifted anyway. Her shoulders dropped. Her muscles loosened.

She relaxed.

All that fight. It wasn’t about protecting anyone or a hospital phobia.

She’d been willing to suffer without medical attention because of the bills.

Christ, I’m a fucking idiot.

“While you decide what you want to do,” Dr. Pierce said, “I’m going to draw up your discharge paperwork so it’s ready when you are.”

When the door closed behind him, I took his place on the stool. I wasn’t expecting her to acknowledge me, but she quietly asked, “Is he going to call the cops to report this?”

“No.”

I’ll handle them in a more satisfying way than the law could.

“Actually no, or the same way you weren’t going to take me to the hospital?” she pushed.

Ouch.

“Actually no. Why?”

“Trying to mentally prepare.”

“Where’d it happen?” Again, I didn’t expect her to tell me, but when she rattled off an intersection, I texted it to Cole.

She tucked her hands under her face and fell silent again.

My cell vibrated with a response.

Cole: Only SafeCams in that area are broken or the lens has been sprayed out. What the fuck was she doing over there?

I had no idea, and it was unlikely she’d tell me.

Not the truth, at least.

Cole: I’m gonna drive over there, see if there’s anything.

I pocketed my phone and returned my focus to the curled-up bundle in the bed.

Neither of us spoke as I tried to pick my words, and Mila did her best to pretend I didn’t exist.

I needed to get her to accept a room at one of Maximo’s hotels without pissing her off. I just wouldn’t share that it would be in my penthouse.

Or that I’d be sleeping on the couch.

When I opened my mouth, my carefully chosen offer wasn’t what came out. “Stay at my house.”

It wasn’t my original plan, but I liked the idea a helluva lot better.

Maximo paid a shit-ton to keep his hotels heavily guarded by security. He’d upped that to a whole fucking shit-ton after a—now dead—bastard from Juliet’s past had managed to get his hands on her.

Mila would’ve been safe in any of the hotels. She would have access to the spa, room service, and all the other bells and whistles that went unused by me.

But they weren’t my house.

And that was where I wanted her.

When all she did was blink at me, I went on. “I got a decent-sized place. Food. TV. And a spare bedroom with a lock on it.”

Though I wish that lock was on the outside to keep you in. ’Cause I’m betting you’ll try to leave the first chance you get.

“I can take care of myself,” Mila said.

“Don’t doubt it.”

“And you’re a stranger.”

I held a hand out. “Ash Cooper. Nice to meet you.”

She didn’t take it. “Fine, you’re a stranger whose name I might know because you could’ve just made that up.” When I reached into my pocket to show her my license, she kept going. “And even if it is your name, I still don’t know anything about you.”

“This is true.”

Her brows rose like she was surprised I agreed. “So why the fuck would I stay with you?”

I let the language and the attitude slide.

Not the time.

Not the place.

Not mine.

“Food. TV. Privacy,” I recapped before sweetening the deal—literally. “I even have some leftover cake.”

“Poisonous cake from a stranger. It’ll be like the unhappy ending to a morbid fairy tale.”

“Hey, my baking skills are shitty but not deadly.”

Her lip quirked—or maybe it was a twitch. “Wow, even more enticing.”

“That’s why I have a chef buddy who handles all the baking. He makes these unreal cookies. Soft and buttery, they literally melt in your mouth.”

Her eyes lit, and I could almost see the need form.

One day, you’ll look at me like that.

Not above using my friends to get what I wanted, I laid it on as thick as frosting. I tipped my head and rubbed a hand across my beard. “Actually, I don’t think he’s ever made anything that didn’t make me want to lick the plate clean. He was classically trained in the best French kitchens.”

“Cool. Fancy poisoned cake.”

“Do you always think everyone is out to murder you, sunshine?”

Her expression was the epitome of duh as she gestured down to herself—injured in a hospital bed.

I’m a fucking moron.

“Fair point,” I said roughly, mentally kicking my own ass. “I won’t tell him you accused him of poisonous desserts because then he won’t bake for you, and that would be cruel.”

She gave a small, one-shoulder shrug as she mentally lifted her walls higher. “Tell him whatever you want. It doesn’t matter.”

I leaned forward, my eyes meeting hers. “You came to me, Mila.”

“I—”

“You were hurt,” I interrupted before she could spew lies or excuses of temporary insanity. “And you came to me. You knew you could trust me. Keep trusting me.”

The silence stretched until I was about to back down and offer her the hotel room.

“Fine,” she muttered so quietly, I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. “But only for a few days.”

“Whatever you say, little girl.”

“And stop calling me that.”

I hid a smile and started planning.

Armed with afew bottles of pills, a lengthy list of warning signs to watch for, and an exhausted yet somehow still stubborn as fuck woman, I moved through the lobby with Mila. She’d refused to ride in a wheelchair. When I’d offered to carry her, she’d offered to punch my dick again.

Or use a scalpel.

I let her walk.

Other than her hood pulled over her head and her slowed steps, she gave no indication she was in pain. It reminded me of the first time I’d seen her in Moonlight. Her chin was held high as she moved like nothing was wrong.

Like prey hiding her injury from predators.

What have you been through?

Her steps slowed further, and I put my hand on the small of her back and leaned in to mutter, “I will chase you.”

She twisted away, but not before I felt a shiver go through her.

Christ, am I going for the dickhead record tonight?

“Mila—” I started to apologize before she cut me off.

“I’m not that dumb. For one, you’d catch me in half a step even with the super juice that doctor injected into me. For another”—she glanced up at me—“there’s fancy cake in my future.”

“Then why’re you slowing?”

She opened her mouth before hesitating. When she spoke, it was with an evasiveness. “Just looking around.”

Usually, I hated lies. Doing what I did for a living, I heard them daily. Always stupid ones. Done for self-preservation, greed, or both. It got old. They were predictable and easily spotted.

Mila was different. A challenge.

If it wasn’t for the subtle way she favored one leg and the wince of pain that followed, I may have believed her skillful lie.

Moving fast but carefully, I lifted her into my arms.

“Whoa, hey. Put me down!”

“Hush, sunshine.”

She looked over her shoulder to see an audience of people looking our way at her outburst. I couldn’t find a single fuck to give, but she apparently had a stash of them. She thumped my shoulder with her fist. I assumed it was meant to hurt.

It didn’t.

Kinda tickled.

“I said put me down,” she hissed, her cheeks flaming brighter as she hid behind her dark hair.

“No.”

“You can’t just say no.”

“Can and did.”

“Remember what I said about the scalpel,” she threatened with a huff. Despite all the attitude she threw my way, she folded into herself, shrinking as small as she could.

“You’re in pain,” I said softly.

“I’m fine.”

“Okay, well my legs are longer than yours.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“That means I can get you out of here faster.”

Mila paused before her body relaxed in my hold, even as she huffed at the inconvenience of being carried.

Once we got to the garage, I readjusted her in my arms and pulled my keys from my pocket. When I unlocked the SUV and the lights flashed, Mila’s gaze went from the Escalade to me.

“Well, at least you don’t drive something ostentatious.”

My lips tipped. “It’s my boss’.”

When I opened the passenger door and set her inside, her nose crinkled.

Fuck, she’s cute.

Another thought I kept to myself since she’d slam my head in the door if I said it out loud.

When I got in and started the engine, she immediately rolled the window down.

“Not a smart idea to throw yourself from a moving vehicle.”

“It’d be worth it for some fresh air.” Another nose crinkle. “It stinks in here.”

I stopped from shifting into reverse to raise a brow at her. “It’s new. Not even three days old.”

“This is the new car smell everyone raves about?” She shook her head. “What a letdown.” She scanned the interior. “Why do you have your boss’ yacht of an SUV?”

“I’m his driver,” I said, simplifying my job description.

Her own brows rose before she winced. She lowered them but didn’t look away.

“What?” I prodded when she continued her silent studying.

I was a man, and her eyes on me… I could only take so much, dammit.

“Nothing.” Closing her eyes, she rested her head near the open window.

“You’re going to get bugs in your face.”

She hesitated for a second, then only moved as much as she had to in order to roll the window up. “It may be preferable.”

“I’ll pick up air fresheners.”

“Don’t bother. I’m only staying with you for a couple of days.” Her voice was quiet as she added, “Hopefully less.”

Ouch, my fucking pride.

Not that I minded a challenge.

Especially when I knew the reward would be worth it.