9. Mila
Mila
Isqueezed my eyes closed, teeth gritted against the pain. Willa had come over to check my healing and was now measuring the range of motion in my shoulder.
She’d busted in here not long after Jude had left for work, looking all sweet and concerned. It was all an act. She was an evil, evil woman who was putting me through actual torture.
It was luck that I was here when she pulled up. I’d lingered to drink another cup of delicious coffee while putting together a plan for the day. If I’d pushed myself out the door immediately like I’d intended, there was no way she wouldn’t have called Jude.
I’d found a mountain bike in the garage while inspecting the property yesterday and figured I’d ride to the state park to retrace my steps, praying I’d find my phone.
I’d found a pair of gloves that fit me, as well as a headlamp and extra batteries in the oddly organized junk drawer in Jude’s kitchen.
So far, I’d decided that every morning, after Jude left, I’d search for a few hours. And I wouldn’t stop until I found the damn thing.
Maybe I didn’t know how I’d ride a mountain bike with one arm, but that was a small detail. I wouldn’t let it stop me.
But the good doctor had shown up and fucked up all my plans.
I winced as she pushed my arm higher. Her hands were deceptively strong, pushing and kneading while she felt around my tendons.
“I’ve kept the sling on,” I said through gritted teeth.
“Good.” She lowered my arm gently. “It’s time to start moving it. Getting the blood flowing is important.”
With a step back, she dug around in her large bag. When she straightened, she held up a small tube.
“I’ll roll BioFreeze into some of the accessory muscles and massage it in. That’ll get the blood around the injury moving and help with the swelling.”
As she began, the menthol smell hit my nostrils and made my eyes water.
“So,” she said, digging into my neck with those skilled hands. “Do you mind telling me how on earth you ended up working undercover at a biker bar and trying to take down a drug trafficking operation on your own?”
I closed my eyes, relishing the pain that came with the way she worked my muscles. “When you say it like that, it sounds insane.”
“Nah, when I say it like that, it sounds brave but reckless.” She pushed her fingertips into my bicep.
I closed my eyes, willing, unsuccessfully, my twitching muscles to relax. Despite the debilitating pain, I’d remained in denial about just how badly I’d been hurt. This, though, was proving I had a long way to go until I was healed.
“My brother,” I said, wincing as she moved to a new spot.
“When he was attacked, something inside me broke. I became fixated on bringing his attacker to justice. In the process of trying to identify that person, I discovered the breadth of what was going on. I have the skills to track down information, gather data, and build a case, so why wouldn’t I put them to use?
It’s what I’ve done since I was a second grader investigating missing Halloween candy. ”
She chuckled. “So you’re one of those. I performed surgery on dolls at that age.”
A chuckle escaped me.
“The more I dug, the more I uncovered about the criminal organization working around here. This is so much bigger than Hugo.” My throat tightened. I’d been in so deep for so long, and the weight of it was all beginning to hit me.
“So I let myself become Amy,” I continued. “No one had succeeded in stopping it, so I took it upon myself to infiltrate the ring and find the evidence and gain the access required to shut them down.”
Hugo was still my primary concern, but this was so much more now. It was part of me.
Willa continued to poke, prod, and massage in silence.
I was quiet too. There was nothing more to say, no way to make it make sense for someone like her.
Once she’d massaged every inch of me from my neck to my forearm, she put away the cream and helped me back into the sling. “Maybe you can’t do it all on your own,” she said softly.
My muscles locked up tight. “Did you just stare into my soul and articulate my greatest fear? Jesus, Doc.”
A warm smile spread across her face. “My mom is a psychologist. I get your thought process. For a long time, I thought I had to do everything myself, that if I wasn’t overachieving, I was failing.”
“Amen, sister. I’m the oldest daughter. My whole life, it’s felt as though the weight of responsibility has been placed directly on my shoulders. I was supposed to protect my little brother, but I failed him.”
She squeezed my hand. “You didn’t fail. Something terrible happened, and you have no control over that.”
Familiar guilt rose up within me. The feeling that I was so close to a breakthrough but still far enough away to worry that I’d never get there.
“How about I make tea?” Willa asked. “I brought treats too.”
I joined her in the kitchen where she filled the kettle and bustled around, pulling mugs from a cabinet and tea bags from a canister.
“Jude’s a coffee guy, but I’ve been slowly building up a stash of tea here.
And…” She reached into a cloth grocery bag.
“I brought peanut butter cookies. My husband makes them. They’re life changing. ”
“Thank God.” I barked out a laugh that had me wincing and clutching my ribs. “Everything in this house is made from spelt.”
With a snicker, she peeled the lid off the plastic container. “Try one.”
Without hesitation, I snatched the biggest I could find and took an enormous bite. When the flavor burst on my tongue, a loud moan escaped me. Sweet, salty, chewy, and rich. Damn, that was good.
“I know.” Her eyes danced as the kettle whistled. “Sinful. It’s my mother-in-law’s recipe, but Cole has perfected it.” She poured the scalding water into our mugs and nodded at the stools along one side of the island. “Sometimes a really good cookie can help heal a person.”
With a huff of a laugh, I eased onto a stool. “Is that your medical opinion?”
“Absolutely. Our bodies are complex.” She set both mugs down and picked up her own cookie.
“The mind-body connection is so strong we still don’t fully understand it.
You’ve been through some traumatic stuff, and while your body will heal quickly, it’ll likely take more time to recover emotionally.
That’s why a really great fucking cookie can help. ”
She lifted her cookie up to me, and I tapped mine against it in a toast.
“You’re kind of amazing,” I said.
She blushed, fidgeting with her steaming mug. “No. I’m a work in progress, same as everyone else. And you’re gonna be okay.”
Head lowered, I gave it a shake. “Probably not. I’m in a wild mess of my own creation, and right now, I can’t see a way out.”
She pressed her lips together, considering me for a moment. “You’re smart and capable. But I think patience and support are the key here. What did Parker say?”
I slumped against the counter. “To sit tight and heal and let the adults handle it.”
Willa burst out laughing. “So the odds of you listening are…?”
I rolled my eyes. “Zero. Like I’m going to sit around here, doing nothing.”
She hummed. “I figured. But…” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Jude’s not bad company.”
With a noncommittal grunt, I sipped my tea.
“You know.” She reached for another cookie. “You never did tell me how you met him.”
I took a bigger sip to avoid having to answer, this time burning my tongue.
“I ask because I’m protective of him,” she said, her inquisitive stare making me squirm. “I’m an only child, but I grew up with the Heberts, and Jude is my brother now. He’s the quiet one, but he feels deeply.”
It would have been easier to tell her to fuck off and mind her own business if I didn’t like her so much.
But Willa had gone out of her way to help me, providing medical care and emotional support.
Not to mention the excellent cookies. So giving her at least a little of the truth felt like the right thing to do.
“Okay,” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I first met him at karate. I signed up for a women’s self-defense class. Figured I could use the training. He was assisting the instructor.”
She nodded behind her mug.
“I went pretty regularly for a couple of months, and each time, he was so kind and helpful.”
“Women’s self-defense?” She straightened. “I wanna take that class.”
“When this is over, we’ll do it together. I need a refresher. And you’ll feel like such a powerful badass after.”
She leaned in, resting an elbow on the granite, her green eyes growing wide. “Okay, so you fell in love with my brother-in-law while karate-chopping him. Adorable.”
My heart lurched, and I reared back enough to make my shoulder throb. “I did not fall in love.” I cringed. “I just thought he was good-looking and nice. We chatted, but I chatted with everyone there. I was making myself known as Amy, the bartender who was new in town.”
She raised her eyebrows. “But?”
Cringing, I considered whether to give her the full story.
I was leaning toward no when she tapped her nails on the counter. “I’m waiting.”
Shit. I blew out a breath and wrapped both hands around my mug. “Fine. Last year, some women I’d met at the bar mentioned that there was great live music in Lovewell. They said the band playing that weekend was amazing and went on and on about how hot the lead singer was.”
“Jasper?”
“Yes.”
She shrugged, unimpressed. I could understand the reaction. Why bother ogling a decently good-looking musician when she was married to a seven-foot-tall hockey God?
“Anyway, I was still getting my bearings here. It hadn’t been long since my brother had been attacked, and I was anxious about what I’d gotten myself into. So I went. Had a beer and a basket of fries.”
She hummed. “They do have excellent waffle fries.”
“Then the band came on stage,” I continued, spinning my mug on the countertop.
“And you made eye contact and fell in love.” Willa squealed, popping up straighter.