Need You for Always (Heroes of St. Helena)(21)

And after Kyle handed him his ass, he handed him a good-patient lollipop, which Dax was pretty sure wasn’t a compliment, then he held his water bottle hostage until Dax dragged himself off the mat. Which was just humiliating.

“Stop being stupid,” Kyle said. “You’re on civilian land now.”

“Tell my trigger finger that,” Dax said and Kyle knew enough to let it go.

Sending up a silent prayer that he wouldn’t puke until he made it home, he headed toward the patient drop-off area, where Frankie would be waiting.

Dax held his breath as he went through the ER because, Jesus, nothing said “hug the toilet” quite like a double dose of ammonia and stale carpet. One foot in front of the other, each step feeling like a mile, he finally pushed through the door and nearly wept when he made it outside. Less than positive about making it to the curb without embarrassing himself, he plopped down on the nearest bench and, palming his ball cap in his hand, hung his head.

A brisk breeze caught the sweat on his skin and he finally, finally, felt himself exhale.

In and out, he let the cool air fill his lungs, then empty until the ground stopped shifting and his hands stopped shaking. Major improvement over two seconds ago.

“Hey, Mister,” a small but high-pitched voice said from beside him. “You going to throw up? Cuz if you are, I’ll hold your lollipop.”

Dax opened his eyes, surprised to find a little person sitting next to him dressed in some kind of uniform. She was reaching for the lollipop he was white-knuckling in his hand. He wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, that a kid in pink glittery wings was able to sneak up on him, or that he looked pathetic enough that she was going to attempt to steal his candy.

“You selling cookies?” he asked, taking in the sash of badges and patches across her chest. He could go for a box of cookies. And some peace and quiet.

“That’s Girl Scouts. I’m a Lady Bug.” She pointed to the red-and-black bug embroidered on her top.

“So is that a no on the cookies?”

“No cookies, but”—she dug into her pockets—“I got a gumball that I won at the store last week.” She also dug up a penny, pencil shavings, and some pocket lint.

Dax looked at his watch. Frankie was late, and being this close to a little person was making his palms sweat. It wasn’t that Dax didn’t like kids, he just never knew what to do with them. They were small, smelled weird, and were too trusting for their own good. Take Lady Bug, for example—here she was chatting up a tattooed guy who was asking if she had cookies.

He turned his attention back to her and wondered what it must look like with her sitting next to him, bright eyed and bobbing curls, while he was dangling lollipop bait.

He shoved the lollipop into his pocket. “Aren’t you too young to be here alone?” Because that sounded so much better than the cookie question. “I mean, shouldn’t you go find your mom?”

“Can’t,” she said, swinging her legs, and Dax noticed her red-and-black polka-dotted high-tops. “I’m waiting.”

“Me too,” he said, not swinging his legs, but searching the lot for Nate’s truck, just in case he’d missed it among the five cars in the lot, because, yeah, St. Helena was a hive of activity today.

“Want to wait together?” she asked.

“I’m good. My sister’s almost here,” he said as if that wasn’t the pussiest answer a guy could give.

“I can wait with you. It’s more fun that way.” Her eyes were straining to see through his pocket, as if she could stare hard enough that the material would melt and she’d catch the lollipop. “We can share the gumball and the lollipop.”

“Don’t like gumballs,” he said. “And the lollipop is mine.” He’d worked damn hard for it and wasn’t about to hand it over to some kid who had been flitting around in wings all day.

“I’m here on a field trip to learn first aid with my Lovelies.” And there went the feet again. “Did you know that a cluster of lady bugs are called lovelies? So we are the St. Helena Lady Bug Lovelies Six-Six-Two.”

Dax wasn’t sure if she expected him to give his rank and file, so he asked, “You’re a bug?”

“Nooo.” She dragged out the word long enough that the ache in his leg was now piercing his head. That, combined with the look she gave him, as though he were the slow one, was enough to bring back the nausea. “I’m a fairy.”

“Right. Then can you fly away, fly away, fly away home?”

She ignored this. “You can only see me because I used fairy dust this morning.”

“Then how come I can see your wings?”

This stumped her. Kept her quiet for all of two point one seconds, then she opened her mouth again. “Watch.”

Dax didn’t want to watch. He wanted to go home. He needed a shower, a beer, and to get laid. Right now he’d settle for ten seconds of silence, but she was already sliding off the bench. Feet together, hands fisted at her side, she wiggled her body and, Jesus Christ, the wings started vibrating and those little freckles on her nose twitched, and she actually looked like a fairy. “Are you watching? Look, I’m getting ready to fly.”

“Yeah, I see,” he said, giving up. He pulled the cap low on his head and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I need to call my sister.”