relish as she nodded off the way she would’ve liked. Finishing up in the shower, she wrapped a large body towel around her bruised body. Wiping the mirror to contemplate her reflection, she didn’t see an innocent woman trying to run away from blood, death and darkness. No, there was someone else peering back at her, amused and waiting to resurface from her temporary slumber with a crazed cackle.
I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. They all will pay for what they’ve done. I swear it.
Hayley gasped, backing away and almost slipping on the wet tile floor. Glancing back at the mirror, all she found was her scared, wild eyes reflecting back this time. The murderous woman was gone, and there was no one else in the bathroom with her.
I’m losing my damn mind!
Who am I kidding? I’ve already lost it.
Sliding into the large, comfortable yet unfamiliar bed, she wept into her wet tresses. The soft comforter warmed her body, but there was nothing and no one else there to ignite the cold within. Wiping the tears onto the pillow, she then reached over to turn off the one lamp illuminating the old Mexican decor. In the unquestioning darkness, she squeezed her eyes shut until sleep overtook her. She was tired. Tired of the violence, tired of herself.
The funny part was that after meeting Alejandro—whose naked body now occupied her dreams in an oddly familiar way, filling her with sweet loving—she never even wondered what was happening to Jay.
Chapter Seventeen
“Whoa, tell me that’s not for me.” Jay held up a hand when the beautiful Latina doctor named Jasmine held out a curved needle and thread. Sure he had a gash on the side of his eyebrow now from being manhandled and his cheek continued to throb and ooze with blood, but there was no way he needed stitches. She had already washed off the copious amount of clotted blood that had dripped down his brow and face. That had been torturous enough, and fresh blood was already seeping from the wounds.
Okay, so maybe he did need stitches. Still, the needle looked like it was made for a horse’s hide.
“Just don’t move or you’ll lose an eye, güero, ” she snapped in a heavy accent. He nodded, afraid of her threat coming true. He was a badass and could chop up a body for disposal, but needles were not a strong point for him. It turned him into a wuss he didn’t care to be.
And tattoo needles didn’t count.
“Okay.”
“This might sting a bit. Whatever you do, hold still.”
He held his breath, focusing on the doctor’s pretty face as the needle entered his skin. She had shot him up with lidocaine at the site, and that had been hell to bear too, even though it had numbed the area well. The tugging and the constant clicking of the hemostat opening and closing along with the flash of the curved needle had his empty stomach in a flurry. He tried to think of something else while she worked.
“So how do you know this Alejandro?” he asked. When moments passed and Jasmine didn’t answer, he figured she had to concentrate to work or didn’t want to answer.
She stepped back, eyeing the wound to make sure the ends met. Then she broke the silence abruptly before starting on the gash on his cheek.
“He helped me save my sister when she was kidnapped and brought to the states. I was a nurse back in Juarez, the murder capital of Mexico, and I helped a lot of criminals with gunshots, stabbings and other kinds of injuries for extra money. You take whatever you can get down there. My skills were in demand, and he helped me find her. In return, I work as a medic for him.”
“I bet. That all you do for him?” He sniffed, and she glared at him, giving a hard tug at one last stitch. It stung and made his eyes water. “Ouch!”
“I told you not to move. Now I have to redo the last stitch.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. You can never be sorry. Just do as you’re told.”
“Yes, ma'am.” Jay
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