Chapter 11
Finally, Street spotted Fury’s truck. He stopped pacing and headed for the vehicle. He needed to see Rosa now and reassure himself she was okay. He’d just found her.
Fury popped the locks open as soon as he shifted into park. Street opened the passenger door and stepped close to his Little girl.
“Little girl,” he started, shaking his head. His intent to scold her evaporated when Rosa burst into tears.
“I’m sorry!” she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
Instantly his displeasure that she had hurt herself disappeared. His focus switched to comfort her. “Come here, Dinorosa. Let’s go have Razor check out your injuries.” He scooped her into his arms, staring hard at Fury, who held his hands up to deflect the attention.
“Not my fault, Street. I gave her gloves and watched her put them on. I was crawling around on the ground fitting your plumbing into place while she chose to take them off.”
“I screwed up,” Rosa admitted. “My stupidity caused this.”
Bristling at her negative talk about herself, Street said, “You’re not stupid. You had some reason.”
“Without them, I could hold the pipe easier and the cutter,” she said in a small voice. “The gloves were huge—like Fury.”
“That’s what all the ladies say. Huge like Fury,” the bastard behind the wheel repeated with an enormous grin. Before Street could respond, Fury continued, “She did an amazing job, Street. She’s a natural. I’d take her as my apprentice after some training. Well, and you buy her some tiny gloves.”
“Really?” Rosa asked. Thrilled, she rushed to add, “I’d love that.”
“Let’s get your hands fixed first, Rosa,” Street said as he met Fury’s gaze with a softer glance. Leave it to one of his brothers to kindle hope in his Little girl who’d been through so much. Fury nodded once, acknowledging Street’s appreciation.
“I can walk,” Rosa insisted, pushing at Street’s chest. “I feel funny being carried like I’m an invalid. My hands just got messed up.”
Street set his independent Little on her feet and demanded, “Show me.”
When she held out her palm, he couldn’t hide his wince of sympathy. “How many pipes did you cut?”
“We got both bathrooms done,” she said proudly.
“Wow. That’s a lot. No wonder Fury wants you to be his assistant. Come on. Let’s see what Razor can do to help those heal.”
“Do you have to return to the warehouse?” she asked.
“I’m on my lunch break. I can flex my hours and work a bit later one evening if I need to make up time.” He saw her face sag with sadness that she was affecting his schedule. He rubbed her back to reassure her. “Everything will be fine. Come on. Razor is expecting us.”
Rosa scanned the area as they approached the front entrance. Vex walked out with a bandaged forearm. He held the door for Street and Rosa. Street couldn’t help but jab at him a bit. “Did you get the trophy for most injured Devil Daddy?”
“That doesn’t exist. Don’t suggest that to Razor. He’d definitely give me a three-foot tall statuette,” Vex said with a scowl before concentrating on Rosa. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I did something stupid,” she said. Street could tell she remembered Vex from a few days ago, by the way she directly met his gaze. Rosa must have already figured out that Vex was prickly but good at the core.
“Welcome to the club. Good luck. Razor has the good suckers hidden in his office. Make sure he gives you one,” Vex suggested.
“Thanks!” she said, smiling.
“When you’re finished chatting, I’m waiting.”
The low voice behind her made Rosa whirl around. She caught her heel on the doorjamb and reached out to grab Street’s T-shirt to steady herself. “Ouch! Damn it!” She bit her lip to stop other curse words from escaping.
“Sorry, Dinorosa. Let’s get you inside to see if Razor can help,” Street suggested, placing his hand under her elbow to guide her inside.
“I apologize. I have a potty mouth when I’m in a bad situation,” Rosa explained.
“Understandable when you’re in pain,” Street assured her. “Razor, you remember Rosa.”
“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve injured yourself. Come back to an exam room and let’s see how I can help.”
Rosa allowed Street to steer her past the guys in the waiting room and into a small chamber. “This really is a medical office, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Rosa. The Devil Daddies insist on wounding themselves constantly. I also treat anyone who works here and needs care,” Razor told her.
She’d never had health coverage anywhere she’d worked. That thought reminded her she was completely broke. “I should go. I’ll just wash these and let them heal.”
“You don’t need insurance or money for treatment. Street has you on his list of dependents. Your care is free,” Razor said.
“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother. Or risk Street’s job.”
“You are not a bother, Little girl. To anyone. Razor enjoys feeling needed. If he only had Vex to patch up, he’d be bored,” Street said, trying humor to reassure her but pissed that she’d worry about asking for help.
Meeting her family wouldn’t be a good idea.
Street wouldn’t be able to control his anger.
“Absolutely.” Razor nodded, backing him up.
“But your boss…”
Street interrupted her. “Rosa, nothing will happen to my job. Sit up here on the table and Razor will see to your injuries.” Street patted the padded top.
She let Street help her take a seat on the crinkly paper. Funny how that sound reassured her that this was an actual doctor’s office. Rosa held her palm out. “This is the bad one.”
“You were cutting pipe without gloves?” Razor asked, turning her hand in different ways to assess the damage.
“Yes. Fury gave me some, but they were slowing me down because they were too big. I took them off so I could grip the cutter better,” she said.
“You’ve already figured out that was a terrible decision, so I won’t dwell on that.” Razor turned his head to tell Street, “They make cut-resistant gloves with Kevlar. Check into those. Or nitrile-coated work gloves.”
“Will do. Thanks, Razor.” Street pulled out his phone and made a note.
Razor focused on his patient. “I need to clean these cuts. Small shreds of plastic are embedded in them. This isn’t going to feel good. Can I give you something for the pain before I start?”
“Will the medicine make me woozy? I like to stay clear-headed,” Rosa told him.
“Admirable, but this is going to be tough to handle. The painkiller might make you a bit light-headed, but I’ll give you a small amount because you’re petite. Street will be here to take care of you.”
Street loved that she didn’t look at him for confirmation but accepted Razor’s statement as the truth. His Little girl trusted him to help her.
Rosa studied Razor’s face to determine if she could trust him. Street had relaxed when he’d seen the doctor. Her Daddy had confidence in him. That reassured Rosa. “Thank you. My hand already hurts. If cleaning the blisters will increase the discomfort, I’d love some relief.”
“Good choice. Step up on the scale so I can calculate the right dosage.”
Immediately, she shook her head. “I don’t need the medicine then.”
“Rosa, I’ve picked you up. I know how much you weigh.” Street lifted her from the table and set her down on the scale. Razor quickly adjusted the levers at the top. When he nodded to Street, he returned her to the table.
Street patted her back and reassured her. “That wasn’t too embarrassing, was it?”
Rosa nodded, not meeting his eyes. His hand cupped her chin and raised her face until their gazes met. “No secrets between a Daddy and his Little. I weigh 175.”
“Your weight is low, Rosa. Street, make sure to offer her a variety of nutritious foods. Even five to ten pounds more would give her some reserves if she becomes ill.”
“Will do.”
While Razor gathered his supplies, Street kissed the top of her hair and shared, “Razor doesn’t believe in discomfort for Little girls. Everyone has a different pain tolerance.”
When she opened her mouth to assure him she was tough, Street continued, “Even though I have no doubt you’re a warrior, Dinorosa, there’s no need to suffer. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”
His promise squelched her protest. She whispered, “Thanks,” as she kept her eyes on Razor, who drew up a shot for her. “I don’t like shots.”
“No one likes injections, Rosa,” Razor told her. “You wouldn’t believe who was scared of a needle.”
“Not Da… Street,” Rosa corrected herself.
“Not your Daddy for sure. He’s a tough guy,” Razor agreed. “Street, help by pulling down her pants. This goes in her bottom.”
“No way. I’ve changed my mind,” Rosa said, crossing her arms defiantly. Unfortunately, she whacked her hand on her other arm. Instantly, tears sprang into her eyes. “Damn it!”
“Up you go, Dinorosa,” Street said, boosting her to her feet. He quickly unfastened her jeans and pushed them over her hips. “Leggings are coming today, Little girl. Those will be more comfortable to wear.”
“I don’t want a shot,” she hissed at Street.
“I know,” he said gently as he turned her around to face the table. “Rest your arms on the cushion, Rosa.”
She reached out to push herself away from him and yelped as her hand hit his chest. Freezing as the jolt of pain lanced through her, Rosa couldn’t deny she needed help.
Street didn’t say a word but rubbed her back in sympathy.
Slowly, she leaned over. Street tugged down her panties, and Razor swabbed an area with a cold pad before tapping a spot at the side of her hip as he efficiently injected her.
Distracted from the needle’s impact, Rosa barely felt anything.
“That wasn’t bad,” Rosa whispered.
“Causing pain isn’t a personal goal of mine, Rosa. I’ll always try to make treatment better. Let your Daddy help you dress.”