PAINT IT RED (MikhAiah)

23: Collateral Damage

"Death and life have their determined appointments." —Confucius

***

MIKHA

"Stacey is okay. She's in a little shock, but otherwise okay," Gwen says as she hands me a cup of coffee. Our entire team is in a hospital waiting room right now.

The security detail makes me nervous because someone from the police force sold us out.

"Only cops with no kids or family at Aiah's from now on," I say to Gwen, who nods. "We've only been out in public once. It's possible he doesn't even know she exists. It's been her house mostly we've stayed at when I see her, and I'd know if I'd been followed."

I take a sip of the coffee as she types out a text, probably relaying my request.

"Sheena?" I ask her.

"She's coming around. Her left shoulder was dislocated, and she has two breaks in her left leg where it got pinned on impact. She's not in shock, but she is fucking pissed."

Gwen smirks, and I laugh under my breath. Sheena will take this as personally as I am now. Then again, everyone has a personal investment now. He came after two of ours, and called me out by name. It's our mission—our only focus—to bring him down.

Maloi is typing furiously on her laptop. She hasn't been a techie for years, ever since she became the best in the field on forensics. But now she's dusting off her old skills, trying to find any footage of which girl Plemming might have had with him.

Gwen and I described the truck—old Ford, beat up, jacked up, and big brush guard on the front. You couldn't tell it'd been the tool to crash them, because it sure as hell didn't look like it'd been in a wreck.

"Anything?" I ask Maloi.

Her eyes narrow to slits.

"Not yet. But I will find this son of a bitch."

"He could be somewhere in the hospital. He'll want to see this show. Or, if he has any computer skills, he may be hacked into the feed," I tell her.

She nods. "On it. I already informed the cops of something like that when we got here," she explains. "They've been canvassing the hallways and such."

"Stacey shooting at him probably pissed him off. He hit them from the rear, sent them sliding around, and then slammed them again. It dazed them enough to give him an edge," Ken says as he sits down. "Then after Stacey shot him, he got in the truck, got a good run-and-go from that side road, and T-boned them, probably trying to kill them."

"He's a sexual sadist looking for an easy kill? Just to piss us off?" Gwen asks, shaking her head.

"He wants us investing all our attention into him. He's winding us up," I say through clenched teeth.

"It's working," Ken growls.

A woman pokes her head in. "Ms. Arceta is asking for you," she says, looking at us all instead of being specific.

Gwen, Ken, and I stand up, and Jhoanna comes jogging down the hall, joining us as we walk toward the room where they're holding Sheena.

Before we make it, my eyes land on a familiar brunette who is racing toward me with wide, terrified green eyes. Her entire body visibly relaxes when she sees me, and she launches herself into my arms.

I grab Aiah, holding her to me, as she shakes and trembles. Detective Jeremy is right on her heels, panting heavily as he doubles over, resting his hands on his knees.

"Fucking marathon runner or something?" he asks between labored breaths.

Aiah doesn't speak. She just clings to me, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

"I was so worried," she finally says.

"They said your team was hit," Jeremy explains, running a hand through his hair. "She drove. I couldn't talk her out of coming. They wouldn't tell us who was hit."

I hold her for a second longer. Three of my team members are staring at us with raised eyebrows before I finally snap back to reality.

Fuck!

I drop her to the ground and push her away, ignoring the way she blanches.

"You can't fucking be here!" I yell, then cut my eyes to Jeremy. "Why the fucking hell would you bring her?"

His eyes narrow to slits. "Did you miss the part where I said she was coming with or without me? I came to keep her safe."

I gesture to Aiah, all 5'6" of her. "She weighs 120 at most. You're at least 200 with law enforcement training, yet you can't restrain her?"

Aiah backs away, saying nothing, but my eyes are on Jeremy, furiously glaring at him. He glares back, just as furious.

"She's not a prisoner or a criminal. I can't legally confine her to her damn house, you arrogant asswipe."

Gwen takes a step between us, as though she's preparing for things to go bad.

"He's possibly here or watching, and you bring her here? I'm not fucking stupid. You want him to find her. Especially now. You want a new promotion from a shiny little arrest for the highest-profile killer in the nation right now."

He takes a threatening step toward me, and Gwen wedges between us more when I take a step too.

"I couldn't give a shit about that. I came because I was trying to keep her safe. I don't have any authority to confine an innocent civilian to her home, and neither do you."

I open my mouth to yell at him some more, when Aiah calmly inserts herself into the conversation, her haunted eyes icy and detached, something I haven't seen in a while.

"You told me to have a protective detail, and I agreed," she says quietly. I swallow down my words as she continues. "You told me to let a stranger stay in my house; I agreed, even though I didn't want to. I take someone with me when I leave. I've put my business deals on hold to appease you, not traveling and risking myself. I've sat in a protective bubble, answering all your calls and texts promptly so you don't worry about me."

Her eyes glisten, but I can tell they're nothing more than angry tears. And I realize I've seriously fucked up.

***