Protective Ink. Misty Simon
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The bedroom held nothing but some old crumpled trash and a plump purple chair. The house obviously wasn’t in use.
That left the bathroom. He had no idea what he’d find, but hanging back and thinking wasn’t about to give him the answers he needed.
Taking the door with his shoulder, he busted it in.
It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but it wasn’t pretty either.… Garrett’s wrists were tied to the shower rod with rope, and his bloody and beaten body was suspended over the tub. As Jackson used his utility knife to free his friend, he thought about Lissa. He sure as hell hoped she’d managed to get ahold of Dory. Without her—and her ability to heal Garrett—his friend might not have much time left.…
Chapter Three
Lissa practiced an ancient religion whose name had been lost over the ages. It incorporated parts of different well-known religions, including Wicca. Still, she had no idea where to send her prayers as Jackson climbed into the backseat of her car with a pulverized Garrett essentially draped over his lap.
She’d finally reached Dory, who had been working late on some local business owner’s taxes. It had taken every ounce of charm and persuasive power Lissa could channel to make Dory go home to wait for Garrett instead of rushing to the scene.
Lissa screeched to a halt behind Garrett’s apartment building. She hoped the dark would cover them as they dragged him into the building and up the stairs. If anyone saw his injuries, they’d insist on a hospital visit. Given that Dory was the only one who could set him right, that could be fatal for him.
Dory was waiting at the back door, holding it open with one hand as she covered her mouth with the other. Lissa could see the scream in her eyes, but could also tell she was as aware of the need for surreptitiousness as they were. She kept silent.
Jackson slammed out of the car, ran around to Garrett’s door and dragged the other man out. Setting him on his feet, he ducked under one arm as Lissa ducked under the other.
“You ready?” Jackson asked.
“As ready as I’ll ever be. We need to make sure Dory doesn’t go off the handle,” she murmured, pitching her voice low so the other woman wouldn’t hear her.
“She’s strong. She’ll do what’s necessary.”
Lissa braced herself to help haul Garrett’s inert body up the stairs because the building didn’t have an elevator. When they got him to the door, Dory immediately started laying her hands on the visible bumps and bruises on his arms, strange marks that looked like they came from a needle. Her eyes welled with tears, though she kept them from falling.
Jackson jerked to a halt on the first landing, and Lissa took the opportunity to catch her breath.
“Dory, why don’t you go on up and get things ready?”
“I…”
“Please.”
Her mouth turned down at the corners, but she followed his request.
“Why’d you send her away? She was helping him. He already looks a little better.”
“Lissa, I do not want to trip over her and fall with Garrett. Do you? He’s going to come through this like he has everything else. Three more minutes without being healed is not going to do him any harm.”
Lissa couldn’t do anything except agree as she prepared herself for the next set of stairs. Thank the heavens he lived on the second floor.
But who had done this? And why? Garrett had never been injured this badly before—at least not as far as she knew. It scared her. As the older sister he’d never had, she might just have a talk with him about letting the police do their job. Not that he’d listen, but she would say her piece anyway.
They finally reached the second floor and carted Garrett into the living room of his apartment. While they hoisted him onto the couch, Dory flitted around like a hummingbird at a flower.
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