She shook her head, tangled hair brushing her shoulders. "I don't want anyone to know, not yet at least."
"All right, but that means you're stuck with me." He shoved to his feet by the SP. "Have you finished questioning her?"
"For now. The lead OSI agent said he has more questions for later."
Carson glanced back into the room where two men in suits were crawling around the floor looking under the bed. The OSI was made up of part civilian investigators, part active duty military. Since the incident had happened on base, involving a service member, civilian police wouldn't even be involved. Would that be better or worse for Nikki? Who the hell knew anything right now except he had to get her out of here. "Then I'll take her home."
The cop stepped closer to Nikki's chair. "I'm afraid we can't let you do that, sir. She has to be checked out by a doctor first."
Doctor? They'd said Owens was the one who hit his head. Had something happened to her, too? That would account for the pupils and the confusion over what happened. "A doctor?"
He reached to brush back her hair for a better look at her face. She jerked away, flinching. From him or pain? Either way her hair swished to reveal a bruise on her cheek. What the hell had Owens done to her?
Scenarios he hadn't wanted to consider blared through his head. He'd assumed Owens died in a freak accident—slipped in the bathroom or tripped over his pants or rolled out of bed. Carson pinched between his eyebrows. He didn't want that image of Owens in bed with Nikki. But the image of Owens hurting Nikki...
Hell.
Rage threatened to blind him. He blinked the red haze clear enough to function.
He scoured her clothes as if somehow he could develop Superman X-ray vision and find marks on her skin. No such luck, a curse and a blessing. But he did find other details he'd overlooked earlier—missing buttons on her silky shirt tugged on over a tank top. One of the knees of her jeans seemed more threadbare than the other, as if she'd skidded recently. He would wager money he would find a bruise beneath the denim.
There'd been an attack. A struggle. And somehow Owens had died.
"Nikki, did he hurt you?" Or worse. He blinked back the red fog again.
"I told you, I don't remember." Pride and a paper-thin bravado braced her shoulders. "Even if I did, this isn't your business or problem."
"Are you sure you don't want me to call your mother? She's going to find out eventually."
"And maybe we'll have a few more answers by then. I would like to get through—" she sucked in two shaky breaths "—the doctor's exam first."
She might not want his help, but he wasn't leaving her alone. He would protect her until she could take care of herself again.
He turned back to the SP. "She needs to leave. Now. Can't you see she's about to pass out? Who the hell knows what happened here but it's clear she was assaulted and needs treatment."
"Major, we're just doing our job and the investigator still needs to question her."
"He can do that at the hospital." He let all his anger seep steel into his words. "If she's been abused in any way and you've kept a traumatized woman sitting here alone—"
"We're moving things along as quickly as we can, Major, without compromising the crime scene."
"Is she being detained?"
"No, sir."
"Then she's ready to leave for the E.R." He slid an arm around her shoulders and eased her to her feet trying not to remember the last time he'd touched her this way or how many times he'd been tempted to put his hands on her body again.
His only defense had been distance. And now it looked as if he wouldn't be leaving her side anytime soon.
Chapter 2
Nikki tugged a surgical scrub shirt over her head and stifled a wince at the lack of underwear since all her clothes had been bagged for evidence. As if she didn't already feel exposed enough today.
At least the E.R. held more answers for her than her still-foggy head. She'd pulled it together enough during the police escort over to call in sick at school. Truth be told, she did feel sick, heartsick and body sore.
Paper crackled under her as she gingerly slid off the gurney, her toes hitting cold tile. Not as much of a shock as it could have been since she already felt chilled to her soul.
Bracing a hand on the cabinet full of gauzes, tongue depressors and latex gloves, she tugged on the surgical pants and knotted the tie before sliding her feet into the flimsy hospital slippers the nurse had given her. For the first time in her life she was grateful she could go braless. She could have sent Carson to her place to pick something up, but he wouldn't leave the hospital and she really didn't want him rooting through her underwear drawer.