Page 27 of Speechless

While they fussed with the ink and the sheets, Connor grabbed the digital camera he’d had on charge, tried to convince himself he wasn’t violating her rights. While they had video evidence of the initial examination, the technical run-through of her wounds and overall condition, this seemed more…invasive.

“All done, Connor.” Sarah glanced at him, then at the camera in his hands. She gave him the slightest nod. “I can roll her onto her side, hold her while you do that. Takes the pressure off her back.”

“I can help turn her,” Caleb offered.

“Don’t touch her,” Connor snapped reflexively, then sighed. “Sorry. Sorry, that was uncalled for. Just tell me what you need, Cal.”

“Good shots of her face. Any identifying marks.”

He gave Sarah the go-ahead, held his breath as she carefully eased Jenna onto her side and, standing behind her, held her in position with one hand on the protruding hip and the other supporting Jenna’s head. Working quickly, he took several stark pictures to identify her with, ignoring the fact her family would see the abuse with a single look. It couldn’t be helped.

“Jenna. Jenna, baby, open your eyes,” he coaxed, brushing away a lock of hair from her gaunt cheek. Eyes were specific, unmistakable, and could be the key to finding who she really was. He got a few clear shots when her eyes fluttered open. “Okay, baby, all done.”

He handed the camera to Caleb, slid his hands under Jenna as Sarah rolled her back into position. Not best pleased his brother was witness to Jenna’s bare front, Connor pulled the cotton sheet covering her legs up and over her to the shoulders.

“Anything else?” he asked gruffly, retrieving the camera and moving to the computer in the corner, beginning the process of uploading the photographs.

“That’ll do for now. I’ve started a search on missing women under the age of thirty. Didn’t have much criteria to go on until now. Green eyes and blonde hair aren’t going to narrow the sheer number down by much. Montana alone has too many.”

“Should string the sick bastards up by the balls when we catch them,” Connor muttered, sending the best photos to the printer. “I’ll email you the whole file once I’m done here. There’s the original photos of the ligature wounds, her primary condition upon arrival.”

Caleb nodded and took the printed copies. “I know I told you not to get attached, Connor. Sounded like a bastard, no doubt, but there’s a reason behind it. Girls like her…they get under your skin. The abuse, the history, it…does something to men like us. Makes us feel like heroes. Knights in shining fucking armor.”

Connor folded his arms over his chest and waited.

“I’ve done it myself, back when I was a rookie. Domestic violence case, husband whaled the shit out of his wife of six months. Broke her arm, snapped a rib or two, damaged the nerves in her face well enough she couldn’t smile for nearly a year.” Cal rubbed his chin. “I was twenty-three, getting my feet wet on my first real investigation, and I fucked everything up. Fell for her. Hard. Turned myself inside out to be her rock, went to every specialist appointment and doctor’s visit for moral support.

“She looked to me for everything. Couldn’t make a decision without waffling for days, had panic attacks and meltdowns over choices we make every damn day. So I made them for her. I organized her life, helped her get back on her feet, back into a normal routine, and thought this is it. This is the start of good things for both of us.”

Connor’s arms relaxed. He knew Cal was waiting to take his legs out from under him, was braced for the blow, but he’d never heard anything about this. Hadn’t had a clue his brother had been involved with a woman under his protection. It was fascinating to see another side to the stern lawman, and it was showing him a different side to his brother.

“It wasn’t about sex. Didn’t lay a hand on her for damn near six months. Didn’t dare, her injuries were bad enough to put that on hold.” Caleb stared long and hard at Jenna, sighed. “Think this one’s worse off. They come to rely on you for the physical stuff, sure. Help with the groceries, getting in and out of the shower, whatever they struggle doing. But the mental reliance is the killer, Connor.”

As though aware of eyes on her, Jenna stirred. Immediately, Sarah’s hands were on her, fingers combing lightly through her hair until she settled again.

“I bet if she’d opened her eyes and looked at you, you’d have been on your feet and beside her in the same breath,” Caleb continued. It struck Connor how tired his brother looked in that instant and he wondered how much work Cal was putting into finding the monster who’d done this to Jenna while Connor dealt with the fallout. “It’s one thing being their rock in the bad times, brother. It’s entirely another becoming their world.”

“What happened with the woman? Your woman?”

“I exhausted myself trying to keep her together. It was like being a single parent to a thirty-year-old child. When I couldn’t do it anymore, couldn’t fathom the thought of another day being her focal point in life, I called it quits.”

Connor saw the grief in his big brother’s eyes, felt the punch of it in his own gut. “She killed herself.”

Caleb blew out a long, harsh breath. “Didn’t last a week. Ignored the friends I’d helped her make, the social circle we’d built for her as support. Left a note for her family, one for me, and took herself out onto the back porch of the little house we’d lived in together.” He swallowed hard enough to make his throat click, and his voice was tight with emotion when he spoke next. “Next door neighbor found her the next morning, some damn love song playing on repeat, and her toes three inches off the floor.”

“Fuck, Cal. Why did you never say anything?”

“There was nothing I could say. You were acing your way through school; Cain was busy being star athlete. Why should my life and my fuck-ups knock you two off track?” Caleb waved that away and pointed at Jenna. “She’ll take you down, Connor, if you get tangled up in her. Worse, you have the power to stop her world turning.”

Still stunned by his brother’s admission of love and loss, Connor shook his head slowly. “She needs someone to depend on, Cal. She needs stability.”

“Let Sarah take over. It’s only been two days, Con. It’ll be difficult, only seeing her in a professional capacity, I know, but you’ll thank me for it down the road.”

Connor met Sarah’s eyes, read the blatant warning she fired at him. Maybe it would be for the best. It didn’t explain why his chest ached at the thought, but maybe distance between them would be better for Jenna. Jesus, he’d already kissed her—his attachment was taking root faster and faster, every damn time he laid eyes on her.

“If Sarah can’t take her, I can make arrangements at the hospital, have a social worker and therapist assigned to her for the duration of her recovery.” Caleb donned his authority as easily as shrugging on a jacket. “Jenna will be in good hands. They’ll get her a speech therapist, a psychologist. She’ll stand a chance of having a good life.”

A good life without him, Connor thought miserably. Good hands that weren’t his. They wouldn’t know how to make her smile or what made her eyes light up. They wouldn’t understand her fears, wouldn’t comprehend the state she’d been in when she found him.

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