Page 10 of Her Protector Daddies

This was Marcus Hartley’s apartment, not that you would know it given the state of it. Ever since it was revealed he had become addicted to the very drugs he was trying to get off the street, he had spiraled down and cut nearly all ties at the department. That didn’t stop people like me and my real partner, Bailey, from trying to check in on him every once and a while.

It was every undercover Vice’s worst nightmare. A test that goes too far, a threat that makes one taste of the product seem harmless, and then it all crumbles. There were countless reasons why trying the product was against undercover rules, but this was definitely an example of the main one.

“ETA on that RA?” I radioed in. “Victim has a head wound.”

“Two minutes,” came the response.

“Any ID?” Trask asked as he came in through the back door.

I quickly patted down the woman’s pockets with one hand and then shook my head. “No. Maybe there’s a bag around here somewhere but we’ll leave that for forensics.”

Suddenly, the woman lurched up with a hoarse, terrified cry and her bruised hands curled weakly into my uniform. Her bright green eyes swam with tears and despite looking me right in the eye, she appeared to be unfocused.

“Please—please,” she gasped. “I don’t know any—anything!”

I immediately wrapped one arm around her shoulders to support her and kept my other pressed against her head, stemming blood flow.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I soothed. “You’re okay, I promise, you’re going to be alright, Ma’am.”

“Please,” she sobbed weakly, her words slurred through a mouthful of blood. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted once more, her head flopping back against my shoulder.

Fuck.

I couldn’t get her out of my head on the entire drive to the hospital behind the ambulance. The wide fear in her eyes, the shocking depth of her stunning green eyes, the red bruises around her wrists showing how desperately she had struggled; every detail plagued me, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. She was beautiful. There was no denying that. Stunning, actually but I had tried to shove that detail out of my mind.

That wasn’t going to help anyone.

Once at the hospital, I made sure I was still assigned to the case in order to get a statement from her. Then I spent the next hour pacing the waiting room drinking tar-like coffee while waiting for an update.

And that look in her eyes didn’t leave me. A cold fear, wrapped in deep-seated exhaustion.

It speared in deep and unlocked something deep and feral inside my chest, this carnal need to make sure she was never that scared ever again. A feat that would be impossible given what she had been through plus I couldn’t afford to get distracted by any cases not directly linked to the Cartel.

I was undercover for a reason.

Not long after my third cup, the nurse who swiftly took the woman off my hands appeared in the waiting room and dusted her hands down her blue scrubs. I was on my feet immediately.

“Any news? Is she okay?”

“Yes,” the nurse smiled. “She’s going to be fine. She’s in shock and very shaken. The blunt trauma to her head needed some stitches, and she has a concussion but other than that, she’s okay. We’ll keep her here overnight for observation and rest.”

An unexpected rush of relief rushed up through my chest like a trickle of warm static, and I smiled slightly.

“That’s great news. Do we know who she is?”

“Her name is Selena. Selena Hartley.”

Wait, Marcus’ daughter? No way. She was still a tiny little thing, surely. A quick calculation in my mind reminded me that more time had passed since I’d last seen Marcus than I realized. Damn, she’d really grown up.

“Can I talk to her?”

“No, she needs rest,” the nurse replied. “I believe the detective I spoke to doesn’t want anyone talking to her until he gets here anyway.”

Ahh, there it was.

Being back in uniform put me on the other side of the tape, which was the most jarring part about returning to patrol for me. I was used to being the one with the fancy badge and the power to question who I wanted when I wanted. I was the one ordering the Officers around to do the shitty leg work I didn’t want to. Patrols didn’t get the luxury of choice, not when a detective was involved.

“Okay, thank you. One more thing: did you run a tox screen? Any drugs in her system?”

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