Page 11 of Healing Creek
If the man called Ghost hadn’t been able to open the lock, how could this one? She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would keep her fear deep inside. She’d already made such a mess of things. She couldn’t stand the thought of being responsible for any harm coming to them. Her fingers tapped quicker against her leg.
Knock’s hands slipped away. “This is a seriously tricky lock.”
Her eyes shot open and she twisted to meet his gaze.
“Lucky for you, beautiful…” he chuckled and pulled a small object from a hidden pocket in his slim-fitting trousers. “I have Morgan’s code-key. We’ve got pretty good odds that it’ll open this.” He held it up with a flourish.
Creek growled. “Then I’ll do it.” He moved toward them in his not quite graceful gait and snatched the thing from Knock’s grasp.
Knock stepped back and made a mockery of a bow. “Be my guest. But, uh, don’t force it. If it doesn’t open right away, stop.” He retreated to the doorway as he spoke. “I’ll just be in the hall.”
“Creek, you don’t have to do this. I can do it myself.” At least she thought she could. The overlarge collar might make it difficult for her to position the code-key, but she’d rather struggle with it than risk his life with hers. Her heart pounded heavy in her tight chest. She could barely breathe.
“Don’t fear,” he rumbled. “I told you I wouldn’t leave you.” He held her gaze as he spoke and he seemed to be saying something more. Or was that her loneliness speaking?
Her tapping fingers stilled, and a warm touch slipped along her wrist as Creek brushed his hand against hers. She turned her palm into his and tightened her fingers on his much larger ones. It was then she noticed the tips of his fingers were heavily scarred. What had they done to him?
“I don’t want to put you…” she stumbled on the word. “Any of you, in danger.”
She couldn’t drag her eyes away from Creek. Skin slicked with oil, heavy muscles on display, face that didn’t seem to know how to smile—Creek made her want to trace every scar across his body. Many of them ran in parallel groups. Claws. Had he been forced to fight animals? Large predators? Or others of his own kind? One scar ran across his nose and close to his eye. He’d come close to being blinded.
More than any obvious scar, she could see the pain of injuries old and new weighing down his every movement.
She should send him out of the room to safety, but she couldn’t make herself release his hand. She was just another selfish, entitled human using him if she allowed him to risk—
A snick sounded behind her. Paralyzed by her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed his free hand reaching for the lock. Before she could react, Creek released her and caught the heavy weight of the collar as it fell loose from her shoulders.
Air rushed into her lungs. Relief zipped through her, a too-brief moment of euphoria before the weight of her true situation hit her. Her sister was still a prisoner, and as long as the man called Ghost was out there watching her every move, so was she.
She considered telling Creek about Ghost, but he might not believe her and if he did, he might only be interested in hunting the man down. Why should Creek care what happened to her sister? And if Ghost learned she’d told, he might get out a message before they could stop him. Would Roma really punish her sister when they needed Jennifer to do their research? God, it was so confusing.
The only thing she knew was that she couldnotrisk her sister’s life.
“Well done!” Knock slow clapped from the hallway. “Now that is out of the way, I can take you to Mercury. Then we can work on getting you safely home.”
At the mention of home, anxiety ran through her like electricity through a live wire. Of course, she wanted to go home. Her family must be so worried. But she wasn’t going until Jennifer was safe.
“I’ll take her.” Creek’s voice rumbled under his words. “If Feeona is in medical, there must be much you should be doing.”
“So true. I’m indispensable.” Knock placed one hand over his heart and, with laughter on his face, he put the other hand out for the code-key.
Creek turned to place the key in the man’s hand. Grace stared at his broad back as he paced away from her. Deep purple bruising wrapped in a wide swath from the center of his lower back to one hip. “Oh, Creek!”
He jerked back to face her and when he did, he swayed on his feet.
She strode forward and reached out to balance him. He sucked in a breath then relaxed into her touch. “This could be a serious injury.Youneed to be in the med-bay.”
Knock said, “Arena Dogs heal pretty fast.”
“I know that,” she snapped. “But this isn’t healing. This color means he’s still bleeding.” Keeping her steadying hands in place, she looked up into Creek’s face. “How long ago did this happen?”
“A few hours.”
She put on her sternest face. “Med-bay.”
His face turned even grimmer, but he nodded.
Grace dug through the bedding on the floor to locate her boots and slipped into them. She met Knock’s gaze across the room. “Lead the way.”
