I'd like to thank Stone Jackal for agreeing to beta this story for me and for the helpful feedback. Authors always strive on feedback but I particularly would like to know what my audience is thinking on this story so please take the time to review. OCs are always hard to manage so your feedback is extremely appreciated. I hope you enjoy.
Chapter 1.
"Thank God that's done," Eliot growled into the com. "You owe us for this one, Nate."
"I already said I was sorry," Nate sighed.
Eliot had just made the payoff drop to their somewhat paranoid and skuzzy client in the back of a dirty alley in one of the less pretty parts of town. He was ready to meet Nate on the street and get out of there.
"I'm on my way back," Eliot said, "I'm glad to get this one done. Our client was a little creepy this time."
"Just a bit," Nate had to agree from where he was parked in his shiny, black car waiting for his hitter.
"He kept trying to sniff Parker," Eliot rolled his eyes, "The guy was lucky she didn't stab him with something."
"Don't think I wasn't tempted," Parker's annoyed voice over the com made Eliot smile.
Their current client's . . . eccentricities were why Eliot and Nate were delivering the payoff to the client alone and at someplace other than the bar. The others simply refused to go anywhere near the creepy bastard ever again.
"Where did you find that one, Nate," Sophie chimed in.
"Okay, okay," Nate sighed, "I'll try not to pick up any more nutcase clients okay?"
"At least let me check their mental health records first," Hardison said, fingers clicking over his keyboard. "Dude just wasn't right."
The hitter smiled. "Well, at least we're done with him. Nate and I should be back at the office soon."
Eliot was halfway to the end of the alley when he heard it. A soft, feminine cry followed by malicious male voices. His sharp ears tracked the noise to the building on his left and he quickly spotted the broken window that had allowed the noise to reach him.
"Hold on, Nate," Eliot said quietly, "We may have a problem."
"What problem?" Nate demanded.
"Eliot?" Sophie sounded concerned.
"Just hang on a sec," Eliot said, easing up to the dirty brown brick of the building and carefully peeking through the jagged edges of the broken window.
Two men in suits that Sophie would have admired stood over a petite girl who was tied to a dilapidated wooden chair. The side of her face that the hitter could see was streaked with blood as was her lip and nose. Her high boned cheek was clearly bruised; the vivid discoloration visible even through the blood. The gray athletic shorts she wore were dirty, and dotted liberally with her blood as was her gray tank top. Her red hair hung to her waist in limp, sweat greased tangles.
Most people would have sat with their feet flat on the ground and it was the way she was sitting that drew Eliot's attention to them. Her feet were bare and she sat with her legs shifted sideways so that the bottoms of her feet as were sideways instead of touching the cement floor. Eliot suppressed a growl at the angry, blistered burns that covered the bottoms of her feet.
"Where is it?" The taller of the two men demanded, staring casually down at his hands which were speckled with the woman's blood. His hair was dark and slicked back. The thug had applied enough gel to grease his hair to a shine.
"I don't know!" The woman said insistently, the effort it took her to hold her head up obvious.
"Your father trusted you. More than anyone else." Thug number one snorted, "You expect me to believe that he did not tell you about his stash? The money? Blackmail material? Are you really trying to tell me you don't know?"
Thug number two shook his blonde head his blues eyes roving over his prisoner greedily. "Well, if she doesn't really know then she's not much good to us, is she?" He reached down and took her chin in his hands. The girl tried to jerk her head away but he held her in a bruising grip. "There's gotta be something you're good for. What do you think, Jackson?" He asked his partner.
Jackson sneered, "Oh, I know one thing she's good for."
The woman's eyes widened in realization, and for the first time, Eliot saw that they were a vivid forest green. She jerked her head and bit the fingers that had held her chin. "Don't touch me."
"Bitch!" The blonde she'd bitten lashed out and back-handed her, causing her head to snap painfully to the left.
"Cut her loose, Harry," Jackson said, "We'll show her what her place is now."
The blonde, Harry, pulled pocket knife out of the pockets of his brown suit pants and circled her chair. He cut the zip cord that had held his prisoner to the chair. She tried to lurch away but her injuries made her slow and Harry was able to bury one hand in her long, tangled hair and jerk her back, causing her to cry out and grab at his hand.
Eliot had seen enough. "Nate, get the car started. We may need to get out of here quick."
"Eliot, what the hell is going on?" Nate demanded.
"Just shut up and trust me," Eliot snapped, "They've got a girl in there. She's pretty beat up and we can't leave her."
Nate sighed but shut up and started the car. He trusted Eliot implicitly and that was enough to make him wait for the moment.
"Eliot?" Sophie was definitely worried now, "What are you doing? Be careful."
"I'm always careful," Eliot told her, "Now quiet."
Parker and Hardison started to natter in his ear but Eliot blocked them out. He needed to find a fast way in.
The hitter spotted the door and strode toward it; the sounds of fists and feet meeting flesh and the renewed pained cries of the girl moving him faster. With one furious kick, he knocked down the old wooden door in a shower of wooden shards and dust.
The two men had the girl down on the floor and Harry was holding her hands over her head while Jackson was reaching for the button on his pants. She had new bruises and was bleeding again from her lip obviously having fought hard in the short seconds it'd taken Eliot to get inside.
Jackson bore bloody scratches down his left check and Harry would soon have a shiner. She's a fighter.
Red tinged Eliot's vision and his blood pounded in his veins in a way Eliot knew was dangerous; not just to the men who were causing his anger but also to himself. The key was to control it and not let it control him.
"That's no way to treat a lady," He growled, "Get off of her."
The two men turned to face Eliot, though Harry did not release his bruising grip on the girl's wrists.
"This is none of your business," Jackson snarled, "Walk away before it gets you killed."
"I'm not going to tell you again," Eliot said as he moved closer, "Get away from her."
The girl, who had been watching with wild eyes, saw that the thugs focus was no longer on her. Her foot lashed out and she hissed as her abused foot connected with Jackson's minimal family jewels.
Jackson howled and cupped himself as the girl used Harry's distraction to snap her long leg back up and kick Harry in the head. It was enough that he released her wrists and she rolled away. Her eyes shifted to her left and she started to scramble away.
Eliot didn't need further invitation. He stepped up and plowed his fist into Jackson's face hearing the satisfying squelching crunch of Jackson's nose breaking and another pained howl.
Harry launched himself at the hitter, but the two thugs were merely that -thugs. They hit hard but didn't have the finesse it took to take on someone like Eliot. Jackson went down first as Eliot kicked him in the head and forty-five seconds later Harry was on the floor having succumbed to a chokehold.
Knowing that they didn't have long, the hitter's eyes scanned the room for the girl and found her by a small table. She was on her knees her hands gripping the table. As Eliot watched she gritted her teeth and pulled herself up. Her face paled as her weight settled on her feet but she stayed standing. Stubborn, he decided, Good girl.
"I'm not going to hurt you, darling'," he said, recognizing the look of a cornered animal in her eyes.
"Who are you?" She rasped, eyeing Eliot warily. "What do you want?"
"My name's Eliot," The hitter held his hands before him non-threateningly, "I was passing by and heard you cry out."
"So you're just a good Samaritan?" She asked skeptically.
The hitter felt a slow smile quirk up one corner of his mouth. "We'd be the cavalry ma'am," Eliot said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
The girl answered with an uncertain smirk of her own. "My hero huh?"
The smile faded as Eliot watched all the color drain from her face. She swayed and gripped the table. He took a step towards her. "We need to get you to a hospital."
"No!" The redhead shook her head vehemently. "No. I can't go to a hospital. It's not safe."
"Okay, okay," Eliot sighed. He needed to find out more about this girl, but right now it was easy to see that medical treatment was what she needed most. "No hospitals. But you need help. Trust me and I'll help you."
Green eyes met blue and Eliot met her stare unwaveringly. Eliot felt like they were locked in place and Eliot had the uncomfortable knowledge that she was trying to see inside him. He understood. She was alone, afraid, and hurt and knew she needed help. He didn't know what she was looking for, but forced himself to stand still and let her look until she found it.
Finally, she nodded. "Okay."
"What's your name, sweetheart?" Eliot asked.
"Victoria," She said, brushing her hair back from her face, "Since you've decided to be my personal white knight, I guess you can call me Vicky." The ghost of an impish grin quirked her lips upward.
"Well, Vicky, let's get you out of here, huh?" Eliot approached slowly, careful not to test her trust in him too soon. She was a skittish as a young colt.
"Sounds good," Vicky admitted. Gritting her teeth, she put her full weight back on her feet and took a step forward, unable to keep the pained hiss from slipping past her bloody lips.
"Hey, easy," Eliot was suddenly at her side, wrapping an arm around her waist as spots danced behind her closed eyelids. "I think those feet of yours have had enough." Eliot bent, and placing his free arm behind her knees, lifted Vicky into his arms.
Vicky gasped as she was lifted off of her feet and her arms went instinctively around his neck.
Eliot felt how tense she was in his arms and knew how much pain it was causing her. "I swear, darlin', I'm not going to hurt you. You need to relax. You're doin' yourself more harm than good."
Vicky looked up at him and nodded.
"That's it," Eliot praised as he felt her muscles relax. He slowly became aware of Nate's worried voice yapping in his ear.
"It's fine, Nate," He informed his boss, "I've got her and we're coming out."
"I'm going to kill you, Eliot," Nate growled.
"Sorry," Eliot grinned slightly.
"Are you talking to yourself?" Vicky asked from her place in his arms.
"What?" Then Eliot realized, "No, I'm wearing an earpiece. Here, let me show you." He gently sat her on the table and pulled the small device from his ear. "See?" He held it to her ear, "Say hi, Nate."
"Hi," Nate sighed, "No offence but whoever you are, can you tell Eliot to get the hell out here?"
She almost smiled. "I think your friend is getting impatient."
"Yeah, you'll have that," Eliot put the earpiece back in his ear. "I'm coming, Nate."
"About time, Eliot. I'll meet you at the entrance of the alley."
"Okay, darlin', let's go." Eliot shifted Vicky into his arms and this time she went willingly.
"Sophie, Hardison, Parker," Eliot said into the coms, "I'm gonna need three of you to start getting the medical supplies together. These guys weren't very good hosts."
"We'll have everything ready, Eliot," Sophie promised.
"Now the dude's just bringing random damsels in distress home," Hardison muttered.
"Shut up, Hardison," Eliot sighed.
As they walked across the room, Jackson stirred and Eliot paused to give him another kick sending him back to dreamland.
Vicky hissed as Eliot carried her outside into the sunlight. He felt her burry her head into his shoulder and her nails dig into his jacket.
"I know," Eliot said sympathetically, "The car's got tinted windows. Just hang in there."
Nate's car pulled into view and upon reaching it, Eliot opened the back door and set Vicky down on the leather seat before climbing in next to her.
The mastermind's eyes widened as he took in the appearance of Eliot's new friend. "What the hell? Is she okay?"
"Not sure yet," Eliot replied. "Get us home while I take a look."
"Got it," Nate put the car into drive and pulled out carefully, trying not to jar the girl sprawled in the back seat.
Eliot turned to Vicky and saw that her eyes were falling shut. "Nuh uh." Eliot patted her cheek gently. "I need you to stay with me, Vicky."
"Tired," She whispered, yet forcing her eyes to open.
"I know. But we need to make sure you're okay and take care of your injuries first.' Eliot leaned forward and brushed her hair back to search for the head wound that had bled so freely. It was a nasty little gash in her hairline that would need stitches. Even his gentle prodding caused it to ooze slightly.
His hand moved slowly around her head pausing at the small mountain that had formed at the back of her skull. "Damn, that's one hell of a goose egg." Eliot murmured.
"Eliot," She choked.
Understanding immediately, Eliot barked to Nate, "Pull over," And reached across Vicky to open the door on her side of the car as it was the side away from traffic. As soon as the car stopped, Vicky crawled across the seat and, leaning just outside the car, started to heave.
Eliot pulled her hair out of her face with one hand and supported her with the other. When she was done heaving, she went limp with exhaustion, her muscles trembling.
"There wasn't much in your stomach," Eliot observed, "When's the last time you ate or drank?"
"Had some water this morning," Vicky rasped.
Eliot gently pulled her back into the car and settled her against him before leaning over to close the door. "Okay, Nate," Eliot said softly, "Let's go."
Nate resumed driving, while exchanging concern glances with the hitter. "Vicky," he asked, "Do you know what the men who hurt you wanted?"
The injured girl became agitated, shaking her head. "No - they kept asking but - I didn't know."
"Ssshhh," Eliot soothed, "It's okay. We'll worry about that later. Just breathe"
Wrapping her arms around her sides, Vicky let out a quiet moan as the car came to a stop.
"We're here," Eliot said, "We'll get you upstairs and then get you fixed up, okay?"
"'kay," Vicky nodded and allowed Eliot to gently tug her towards the door and then lift her into his arms again.
They took her through the back entrance. Nate ran ahead to open the door for Eliot. The others looked up when they entered their office their eyes widening in shock when they say the bloody girl cradled in Eliot's strong arms.
"Dear God. What happened?" Sophie demanded, rising to her feet and rushing over.
"Explanations can wait, Sophie," Nate said, "Did you get the medical supplies?"
"Of course," Sophie gestured at the stairs. "Parker and Hardison just took everything upstairs.
"Sophie," Eliot called, "Do me a favor. Go to the desk in my office and look in the bottom drawer on the left and bring me the black box that's there."
"Got it," Sophie nodded, heels clicking sharply on the floor as she hurried into Eliot's office.
"Put her in my room," Nate said, "She'll be more comfortable. Can you get her up the stairs? They're pretty narrow."
Eliot gave Nate a look and headed toward the spiral stairs.
Vicky, who had been dazed and quiet seemed to rouse a bit and looked at the metal staircase. "I - I can walk up it. It's not worth hurting yourself."
"It's fine," Eliot soothed. "I can get us both up it with no problem." He shot Nate another look.
Nate held his hands up in surrender, and followed behind Eliot, who did indeed get both himself and Vicky safely up the narrow stair case. The hitter laid the girl on the bed as Parker and Hardison finished laying out what Eliot would need.
Carefully, Eliot sat on the edge of the bed, and took one of Vicky's hands in his, rubbing it to warm it. He was aware of the anxiety in her expression and didn't want to frighten her while he examined her injuries. "I need to take a better look at ya, darlin'," Eliot said, "Can you try to relax for me?"
Cloudy green eyes flicked toward Hardison, Parker and Nate and then toward the door as Sophie entered carrying the black box Eliot had wanted. Vicky's eyes drifted back to Sophie and Parker.
Sophie smiled reassuringly, "You're safe here and you're in good hands with Eliot."
"Eliot's really good at taking care of people," Parker added.
Taking a slow breath, Vicky nodded. "Okay, I'm ready."
Motioning for Nate and Hardison to step outside, and for Sophie and Parker to stay, Eliot's hands moved to the bottom of Vicky's dirty gray tank top. He watched as the realization that Sophie and Parker were staying further reassured the injured girl.
"I need to take a look at your ribs, okay?" Eliot waited until she nodded before moving the shirt up to just below her breasts.
What he saw infuriated him. Her slender torso was mottled with bruises of varying age and size. Some yellow, some a throbbing red, and others a vivid purple. No one should ever do this to a woman. Eliot forced the anger back and focused on his examination. "Tell me if any of this hurts."
He pushed and prodded, carefully watching her face to judge the depth of her pain, and also concentrating to what was happening under his fingers so that he didn't miss the shift of any broken ribs.
"I don't think any are broken," Eliot decided, "One might be cracked but it's hard to tell. More than likely they're just bruised.
"Now what?" Vicky asked, sweat beaded on her forehead.
"We're gonna have to wrap them. It will help a little with the pain too. Let's sit you up."
Vicky's gasped and gripped Eliot's arm as he eased her upright.
"Sophie, I'm going to need your help. Can you hold her shirt up for me?" Eliot dug through the medical kit and removed the bandages he would need.
When Eliot was done, Vicky sighed and opened her eyes. "That does help a bit."
"Let's look at those feet next," Eliot said, easing her back down to the pillows and moving down to the bottom of the bed. "Parker, I'm gonna need a bowl of water."
For the first time, Sophie and Parker saw the angry burns.
Sophie gasped, "Dear God."
Parker's eyes widened and she turned quickly towards the door. "I'll be right back."
While Parker was gone, Eliot allowed Vicky to rest a moment. Sophie disappeared into Nate's bathroom and returned with a wet wash cloth, as well as several dry ones and two large towels. She set the dry wash cloths and the towels next to Eliot and walked to the head of the bed to use the wet one to gently wipe some of the sweat and blood from the girl's face and neck.
"Thank you," Vicky murmured.
"You just rest and let us take care of you," Sophie smoothed some of Vicky's hair back from her face.
Parker returned with a large plastic bowl filled with water. She handed it to Eliot.
Eliot sat at the foot of the bed and laid one of the towels across his lap before lifting Vicky's feet to rest on top of the towel. "What did they do this with, darlin'?" Eliot asked, noting the odd shape of the blistered burns.
"Curling iron," Vicky murmured tiredly.
The hitter found himself wishing he could go back to the warehouse and hit those two asses a few more times. Not now.
"Vicky," He waited until her eyes met his, "I'm going be as gentle as possible darlin' but this is going to hurt. You ready?"
"Go ahead," Vicky nodded.
Carefully, Eliot bathed the dirt from her feet, each gentle stroke of the wash cloth like sandpaper against the burns.
Eliot could feel her trembling and was painfully aware of the tears that leaked from her eyes. "Almost done, sweetheart. You're doing good," Eliot praised softly as he finished cleaning the first foot and moved on to the second.
Surprising all of them, Parker moved up to the bed and took the girl's hand. "Just squeeze," The thief said, "Don't worry about hurting me."
By the time Eliot was done, Vicky was a limp, trembling mass on the bed and Parker was subtly shaking her hand at her side. Eliot gently smoothed some burn cream onto Vicky's feet and then carefully wrapped them with gauze and bandages.
"Just one more thing, sweetheart, and then you can rest," Eliot murmured, moving back up the bed. He grabbed the black box Sophie had brought up and removed a syringe filled with anesthetic.
Eliot bathed the blood away, inspecting the cut to make sure no dirt remained in the wound. He injected the liquid into the area in her scalp that he would need to stitch. With practiced fingers, he quickly placed four stitches closing the small but deep cut. "Okay, that's it for now. I'm gonna give you some pain killers and then you can sleep for a bit."
Sophie handed Eliot a bottle of water and he removed two pills, from one of the bottles he removed from his interestingly stocked black box. "These are Percocet. They won't upset your stomach like Vicodin tends to. Take these."
Eliot supported her with one arm and gave her the pills then held the water bottle to her lips. Vicky swallowed without hesitation and sighed as the hitter lowered her back to the bed.
Reaching into the kit, he pulled two instant ice packs out. He cracked the capsule inside to activate them and shook them several times before laying them against Vicky's ribs.
"Sleep now," Eliot ordered gently, pulling the covers up around her, "I'll be waking you up everyone once in a while to make sure you're okay."
"Do you have anyone we should call for you," Sophie asked. "Any family?"
Vicky bit her lip and another tear fell from her left eye. "No. I don't have anyone. They killed them." She missed the shocked look on the faces of Eliot, Parker, and Sophie as she gratefully gave in to the oblivion that had been whispering her name.