Page 9 of Captive Heart

Micah looked over at the waxy faced girl on the sofa. She was still out cold.

"I went out to investigate some suspicions I've had over the past couple of days and caught her rummaging in the recycle bins. She tried to run away when she saw me, but collapsed and, no, I haven't called anyone except you. I need to know how you want me to proceed. She doesn't look like she's in a good way."

There was a quiet pause at the end of the line before Logan spoke. "Call Xavier. He's a doctor. Get him to come and have a look at her and we'll take his advice on where to go from there."

"Even if that means involving the authorities?" Micah queried, wanting to be sure they were all on the same page.

"Yes," Logan said quietly but decisively. "It may prove awkward, but we have a duty of care that we can't ignore just because it might make things uncomfortable for us."

Micah nodded, even though Logan couldn't see him. "Fair enough. I thought the same, but just wanted to check. I'll ring Xavier right away."

"Thanks, Micah. I'll get over there as soon as I can, and I'll alert Joel, Jake, and Connor to the situation."

"No problem, I'll talk to you later." With that, he hung up and started on his second call.

5

"You want the good news or the bad news?" Doctor Xavier Diaz asked, a scant thirty minutes later.

Micah was still thanking his lucky stars that Xavi had the morning off and lived close by, but since the girl was still unconscious, he knew things couldn't be great.

"Hit me with it, Doc," he sighed. "I need to know if I've got to involve any outside agencies."

Xavier pursed his lips, strands of silver at his temples glinting in the harsh, overhead lights. "Well, the bad news is that, from a purely cursory investigation, she appears to be suffering from hypothermia, and possibly frostbite. From the gauntness of her face, I’d hazard a guess at malnutrition, too. I believe it’s added up to exhaustion, which is probably why she's still out cold.”

Micah grimaced. “And the good news?”

Xavier gave the barest hint of a smile. “The good news is that all of it seems to be minor, so she doesn’t need to be hospitalised, as long as she has someone to care for her. And looking at her, I’m fairly certain she doesn’t have medical insurance."

Micah sighed, but his relief was short-lived since Xavier hadn't finished.

"Unfortunately, I think there's more, and I can't be definitive until I give her a thorough examination. I'll need you to help me undress her."

Micah winced. Stripping off a scared, defenceless, and unconscious woman grated on his principles, but he understood the necessity even if he didn't like it.

He puffed out a frustrated breath. "Sure, Doc. Let's do it."

The remaining Wellington came off first, and Micah sucked in a shocked breath at the amount of swelling and bruising around her thin ankle and the unnaturally bent and blackened little toe.

"Hmm," Xavier pondered, examining her foot carefully and frowning heavily. "This toe was broken a long time ago and never treated. It looks like there were already some circulation problems with it, which have exacerbated the frostbite. She might lose this one."

Micah felt his gut clench at the thought, even though he didn't know the unfortunate girl.

"The ankle has been twisted and sprained, but since she'll need to keep off her feet because of the frostbite, that will heal well enough."

Micah moved to hold the limp woman up while Xavier stripped the bulky coat from her and was thrown by the fact that underneath it, she had one of the club's soft aftercare blankets wrapped around her thin frame.

As he fingered the ragged tear in the fabric, he recalled binning it a couple of days before, on refuse collection day, supporting his conjecture that she'd been around the club for a few days at least, if not longer.

Now, seeing the state she was in, he wished he'd found her sooner.

There was an odd shabby assortment of clothes covering her frail body. All were oversized and, now that her coat was removed, the stale smell of age and mildew was unmistakable, making him wonder where the hell she’d been.

When he unravelled the scarf from around her neck and caught sight of the tell-tale bruising there, his speculation became verbal. "What the fuck, Xavi? Are those marks what I think they are?"

Even the club sadist looked grim right now. "If you're thinking that it looks like she's been strangled, then I'm very sad to say you'd be right," he agreed, tipping her head back and inspecting the damaged area. "Hard enough to lose consciousness, and on more than one occasion in recent weeks, I would say, judging by the various different stages of the bruising."

Xavier looked at the girl's face again. "Do me a favour, would you, Micah? Can you grab a bowl of warm water and a washcloth? I'm starting to think that's not all dirt on her face," he muttered grimly.

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