“Did you hit your head, miss? Can you tell us where it hurts?” one of the paramedics asked.
“Here,” she said, gingerly touching the left side of her head. “I fell flat and hard. Everything kinda hurts, but I don’t think anything’s broken.”
“What’s this?” the medic asked, taking her hand. Bruises. Her wrist was ringed with bruises.
Rage flashed like molten lava through Maverick’s blood. “Sonofabitch,” Mav bit out.
Martin held up a hand to him and said in a low voice, “Let’s get a picture of that.”
“I told him to get off of me but he pinned me to the floor and kissed me and told me not to make it harder than it had to be.” Maverick tilted his head as she spoke, noticing how flat and monotone her voice had gone. God, why hadn’t he killed Slater when he’d had the chance again? They all could’ve lied. Called it self-defense. No one would’ve known otherwise.
The paramedic checked Alexa’s eyes, examined her head, and asked her more questions.
“I’m gonna check out the bedroom,” Martin said, rising. Davis made for the door as well.
“I’m going, too,” Maverick said.
Martin frowned. “Mav—”
“Slater has the mayor, that asshole”—he pointed at Davis—“and at least one judge in his pocket, so if you think I’m not going to see what happened up there with my own eyes before evidence starts disappearing right and left, you’re out of your mind.” He arched a brow.
Davis put a hand on Martin’s chest. “Martin, he can’t—”
“Can it, Davis. He’s coming. Just don’t touch anything, either of you.”
Mav could do that. He nailed Davis with a stare that challenged him to do something about it until the fucker finally looked away. Then the three of them went upstairs. Eckstein stayed with Slater, who was getting more and more outraged by the minute because no one had yet spoken to him. Or untied him.
The master bedroom was just as Alexa had described. The rose petals were like blood droplets on the floor and bed, sending a chill over his skin. “Every single thing she said checks out,” Maverick said. “She sure as fuck didn’t smash her own head against the floor or bruise her own wrists. And Blake, Mike, and I saw him forcing himself on her when we got here, so you’ve got three witnesses. I don’t care how goddamned prominent Slater is in this community, do your jobs.” He nailed both cops with a hard stare.
Martin nodded and placed a call on the radio attached to his shoulder, then he looked at the two of them. “Out of the room. I need to take pictures.”
After a few minutes, they all made their way back downstairs, and Martin paused in front of Slater. He patted the guy down and found a cell in his pocket.
“That’s Alexa’s,” Maverick said, recognizing the watercolor graphic on the case.
Martin set it aside and nodded. “Grant Slater, you’re under arrest for the sexual assault and battery of Alexa Harmon. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. Do you understand your rights as I’ve presented them to you?”
Red-faced, Slater just shook his head like he couldn’t believe this wasn’t going his way. Martin cuffed Slater, then worked to untie the ropes.
Maverick had seen enough. “Can I get Alexa out of here?”
Martin nodded. “I can follow up with her if I need to.”
Outside, Mav found the paramedics packing up their bags. “She’s refusing transport to the hospital,” one of the men said. “There’s a possibility of a head injury, though. She may have a headache, sleepiness, or feel nauseous. Those would all be expected. But if she loses coordination and balance, gets dizzy, or starts vomiting, take her to the emergency department immediately.”
“Why don’t you go, Alexa?” Maverick asked, crouching down next to her. “Just to be sure.”
Just then, Martin hauled Slater out and down the steps. Her ex glared at Alexa, and Maverick put his body between them until he was out of sight, working like hell to keep his own anger under wraps.
Alexa shuddered. “I just want to go home.”
“Okay,” Maverick said. He gave the medic a nod. “Then let’s get you home. This is all over now. Slater can’t hurt you anymore.”
CHAPTER 27
Sitting on the couch in Maverick’s house, Alexa hung up the phone. Telling her mother what’d happened was the only way to make her understand why they couldn’t move her tonight. But going through the story and answering all the questions again left Alexa feeling utterly drained.
Never in a million years would she have thought Grant would get that violent . . . or twisted. And who knew what more he would’ve done if Maverick and the guys hadn’t shown up?
Maverick sat down beside her and held out a steaming mug and two little pills. “Here, Al. Try a little of this.”
“What is it?” she asked. The ceramic was warm in her hands, and the heat felt good.
“Just chicken noodle soup and some ibuprofen. I thought . . .” He shrugged. “I don’t know. It might help.”
Aw, sweet, sweet man. She tossed back the medicine and washed it down with a big sip of the salty broth. “It’s perfect, Mav.” She took another sip, and another, hoping the soup would warm the icy chill that filled her chest. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m not worried about me right now,” he said.
“Well, I am.”
“Don’t be.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “As long as you’re good, I’m good.”
“I don’t know if I’m good or not.” Sip.
“You don’t have to know right now. But you’re here and you’re safe and Slater’s behind bars. So that’s a start.” His eyes blazed a dark blue intensity that seemed to peer into her soul.
The fierceness of his words chased off a little of that chill, like he was wielding a pickax and chipping away the pieces of Grant that her ex had left behind inside her. It was a terrifying, nauseating image and immediately chased away her appetite. She set the mug on the coffee table.
“How can I help?” he asked.
She tried to give him a smile. “You already are.” Finding it hard to hold his gaze, she ducked her chin and stared at her lap, at the navy capris and sheer patterned blouse over a tank that she’d worn to work today. Knowing Grant had touched the clothing repulsed her. “I want to take a shower.”
“Yeah. Okay. That sounds like a good idea.” He gave her a hand up and walked her to the bathroom. Worry poured off of him like a waterfall, the force of it too intense and soothing at the same time.
“I won’t be long,” she said, peering at him around the door.
“However long you need.”