BWWM Interracial Romance 6: Her Protector (7 page)

“Oh my god! Adri, are you okay? Who’s there—did you call the police?” Adriana exhaled in a half-laugh at the shrill sound of her mother’s shocked voice.

“I’m okay. Sawyer and some other cops came. He wants me to go to the hospital—and I can’t really argue. I wanted you to know.”

“Which hospital are you going to? I’ll meet you there.”

“Mom, calm down. I don’t know what hospital we’re going to—I’ll call you once I have any idea. Sawyer is with me, the guy who attacked me is already in the back of a cop car. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

“Didn’t want me to worry? Child, you tell me you wouldn’t be worried to get a call from your daughter that starts with ‘someone attacked me when I left the restaurant.’”

“I called you so I’m not dead or dying,” Adriana said. All she wanted was for the night to be over and done with. “I need to go, mom. I’ll let you know when I get to the hospital and you can keep yelling at me there.” She hung up the phone before Esther could say anything else. “Okay, how am I getting to the hospital?” she asked Sawyer. He smiled slightly.

“Hey, Andrew—you can follow us in the car, right?” Adriana heard another man call back an affirmative. “I’ll drive you in your car. Let me help you get in, all right? Easy up!” He lifted her in one fast, fluid movement, and Adriana stifled the grunt of pain that rose to her lips, knowing it would only slow things down.

Adriana started to come back to herself more fully as Sawyer drove to the closest hospital; behind them, his partner, Andrew was escorting, flashing the lights but not using the siren, clearing out any drivers who might have been on the road that late. The pain in her arm, her leg, her ribs, began to throb more steadily, more an irritant than something acute. “How are you doing?” Sawyer asked, and Adriana looked over at him.

“I hurt,” she said flatly. She closed her eyes a moment, realizing that she was taking out her pain on him. “I’m glad you were able to get there so fast.” Sawyer shrugged.

“I keep an ear open for anything going on in that part of town.” He headed towards Mercy Hospital and Adriana settled against the seat, trying to find a way to get comfortable. It would only be a few minutes before they were there, she knew, but she hoped that the wait wouldn’t be long. She would try calling her mom once they had signed in.

Sawyer helped her out of the car and half-carried her to the entrance of the emergency department. His partner, Andrew, had pulled the police car up to the proper spot for law enforcement vehicles and joined them in the waiting room. There were a few people ahead of her—one of whom had claimed chest pains, though that didn’t stop him from playing with his phone with all of the absorption of unconcern. Adriana sat down heavily after she had filled out the paperwork, knowing that it would be expensive no matter what—she had insurance through the restaurant, but it was not the best of plans, and she thought to herself that the last thing she needed was another bill to pay.

“We’ve got to ask you some questions,” Sawyer told her, sitting down in the chair next to her as his partner took out a clipboard and report form.

“I know,” Adriana said with a sigh. She explained everything that she could remember of the attack—what she had been doing, what the man had said, what she could remember of the beating itself. She couldn’t entirely remember the order of the blows once the man had gotten her on the ground—it all blended into a painful blur. As she continued to drone on about her experience, she felt herself becoming more and more irritated with Sawyer, who seemed to be trying to lead her into saying one thing or the other—so much so that his partner even cast a doubtful glance at him at once.

“I’m going to stay behind, Drew,” Sawyer said to his partner. “You can head back to the station and start filling out the paperwork, if you would.” Sawyer had taken the liberty of calling Adriana’s mother to let her know they were safely at the hospital, and which one it was.

“You don’t have to stay behind,” Adriana told Sawyer. “I’m not unconscious; Mom will be here soon, I can just sit here until they call me.” She was annoyed at him without entirely knowing why.

“I want to stay with you,” Sawyer said, sounding hurt. “You’re hurting—your mom won’t be here for a while, and you’re in shock.”

“I’m fine, Sawyer,” Adriana insisted. “I hurt, but I’ve hurt worse in my life.” That wasn’t entirely true—but something about the way he had questioned her about the attack had set her on edge, along with the pain throbbing and jolting her body.

“I wish you’d have called me when you decided to stay so late; I could’ve parked out behind the restaurant and made sure you were safely in your car.” Adriana’s latent irritation bloomed into anger and she turned a baleful glare on him.

“Right, because either of us could have anticipated that that stupid drunk would be hanging out waiting to attack me,” she said, shifting in the uncomfortable chair. “I shouldn’t have to call you every time I stay late.”

“No, but you should do it—there’s not just that guy who might be looking to attack you. You should never walk out of the building by yourself that late at night.” Adriana inhaled sharply.

“Look—I get that you were probably upset about the fact that I got attacked, and you want to protect me, but I’m a grown woman. I don’t need some babysitter making sure that a big bad guy doesn’t get me!” Adriana found herself unloading on Sawyer, her voice going shrill and loud. It was the culmination of the pain she was suffering, the fatigue that had set in days before, and her reaction to Sawyer’s authoritarian attitude.

He cut her diatribe short, standing up quickly. “If you want me to just leave you alone, say the word!” he said, scowling down at her with a mixture of irritation, confusion, and pain. “I’m going to go back to the station. Let me know when you want to talk to me again.” He turned on his heel and Adriana watched him walk out of the emergency room waiting area and into the darkness, not sure if she was more relieved, sad, or angry. She pressed her lips together as angry, hot tears slid down her cheeks and breathed slowly, knowing that she still had a long time to wait for treatment. Her mother would be there soon, she reminded herself firmly. The night would be over soon enough. She sighed and stared at the faded linoleum floor, breathing slowly and trying to ignore the pain buzzing through her head.

Adriana sat back in her desk chair, stretching against the pull and bunch of tight muscles in her back and flinching when the movement sent a spasm of pain through her nerves. She had gotten pain pills from the hospital after the assault, but she didn’t like to take them before work—she wasn’t on her feet very much and with little else to do she was at the desk constantly, working there if she couldn’t manage anything else.

She had gotten a hairline fracture of her arm in the attack, and her leg had been deeply bruised—enough to worry the ER doctor, though the X-rays showed no break, though she had also sprained her ankle and torn one of the ligaments in her knee as she fell. Her ribs had taken a beating as well—but they had only been bruised, not broken in the fight. All in all, she had come away with fewer injuries than she might have if her attacker hadn’t been drunk and reeling.

It had been two weeks since the assault, and Adriana had managed to pull herself together enough to submit the paperwork to get a loan. She knew, grimly, that she would need the extra help more than ever; she wasn’t in any shape to work on the floor and had to put the usual complement of staff on, instead of keeping hours lean. It was frustrating—and she knew the trouble was only beginning. She’d get a bill in a month or two and then she’d really be screwed.

But as she recovered from her injuries, Adriana found herself thinking about Sawyer more and more. She remembered the way the fight between them had erupted; while she couldn’t assign herself the full blame for it—she had been hurting, tired, frustrated with his egotism and almost-bullying attitude—she knew that it wasn’t all Sawyer’s fault. He had been scared for her, he had been frustrated by their lack of contact, he had been worried, and that had shown itself in his high-handed questioning and his irritation at her pushing him away. She also realized that overall, the fight itself was stupid. That they should break up over it—and it felt almost as if they had, with the minimal contact between them since—was ridiculous. She knew that she needed to have another conversation with him about the situation, to make apologies for her own part in the fight and to try and reconnect.

Part of her didn’t want to do it; the restaurant was still in a difficult—almost impossible—position, and she didn’t think that she could fairly ask him to stick around while she struggled with it upstream. But as she sat at the desk, feeling more than a little sorry for herself and missing him, she knew that the reason she was so worried about the situation—and ultimately, the reason she had pushed him away so firmly—was that she was in love. Deeply in love, and afraid to lose him like she had lost her father, like she was losing the restaurant.

She was well enough to drive, finally, so in spite of the fact that she spent most of her shift in the back of the restaurant, working over the books, Adriana had taken on her normal night-time shift. She reached over and dug her phone out of her purse. Before she could talk herself out of it—put it off to another day, or even indefinitely—she found Sawyer’s number in her contacts and dialed out to it. After two rings, just when she was about to hang up, he answered. “Hey, Adri,” he said quietly.

“Sawyer,” Adriana said, smiling with relief in spite of her nerves. “I think we need to sit down and talk, don’t you?”

“How are you feeling?” Adriana shrugged, looking around the office.

“Still achy, but they tell me I’ll be fine in another couple of weeks, back to normal. At least, as normal as I ever was.” She bit her bottom lip. “I know you’re probably on duty right now, but when you have a break, could you drop by the restaurant?”

“I’m getting off late, but I’ll come by.” Adriana stayed on the line for a few minutes more, not wanting to quite hang up—not wanting to lose the sound of Sawyer’s voice. But she knew he had to get back to work, and she would see him soon enough.

Sawyer arrived just as the restaurant was closing down for the night; Adriana had taken a seat at the hostess stand, not only waiting for him but also to be out where the action—such as it was late in the shift—was going on. At least, she thought with a kind of low misery, if she was out on the floor, people knew that the owner was present. She’d gotten a lot of well-wishes, and the attack had brought the restaurant a little more visibility in the area. She had heard from the gossip mill that because the assault was a third offense in a short period of time, for this particular instance the man who had taken the crowbar to her would be held without bail, since he was clearly a danger to the rest of society and might—based on past performance and his threats—decide to come after her, or after Sawyer—again if he was let free.

Sawyer was still in uniform, and he came in just before Jess went to lock the doors for the night, a few minutes after the last customer left. “Hey,” Adriana said, smiling at him. “Want a beer?” Sawyer looked around.

“Ah, you’re closing; I don’t want to hold anyone up.” Adriana shrugged.

“I can just count the beer as a loss on the inventory. I don’t make a habit of it, but it won’t change things much either way.” She got up unsteadily, keeping her weight on her uninjured leg, and led Sawyer over to the bar. He sat down at one of the stools and Adriana looked around to see that the servers and bussers alike were giving her privacy—occupying themselves with closing tasks suspiciously far away from the bar.

“So,” Sawyer said, accepting the beer she handed over to him before hobbling her way around to sit down on the next stool over from his. “What did you want to talk about?” Adriana’s heart was beating faster. She reached over the bar with her good arm and plucked one of the last beers out of the cooler, opening it and taking a sip. She’d drop the money in later and account for the sale in the ledger.

“I wanted to apologize,” she said slowly. “I shouldn’t have gotten so nasty with you the other night. I was hurting, I was scared, I was tired—but I didn’t have to get so mean.” Sawyer smiled slightly.

“You were in pain from a broken bone and a few other choice injuries,” he said, setting his beer down. “I should have expected you to come out fighting and not looking for comfort.”

“You were being kind of a bully,” Adriana said, smiling to take some of the sting out of her firm words. Sawyer looked, for a moment, as if he might argue the point; but then the resistance faded from his expression and he smiled ruefully.

“Yeah, when I knew it was you, I sort of lost my head and didn’t get it back, especially when I found out it was that asshole.” He picked up his beer and took a long drink. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I should’ve acted like an adult instead of a jerky kid.”

They continued talking, about how they’d missed each other, about the stresses they were both under, about the different things on their mind. One by one, the members of the staff waved as they walked out of the restaurant, catching Adriana’s attention just enough to let her know they were going, that their after-closing chores were all done. Eventually there was no one but Sawyer and Adriana left in the building. “Do you really want to make this work?” she asked Sawyer. They had finished their beers, and there didn’t seem to be anything more to say.

“Yes,” Sawyer said after only a moment’s pause. “I really want to make this work. I’ve wanted you since we were both kids—and when I thought you were really in danger it was like a pain in my chest. I couldn’t get here fast enough. I haven’t really felt that way about anyone else in my life.” Adriana thought about what he said; she should have felt that way about her ex-husband, at least when they’d been together—but she realized that, deep down, though she’d cared about him, she hadn’t ever been as deeply in love with him as she was with Sawyer.

“I feel the same way,” she said. Sawyer leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, tentatively at first, but then more and more firmly, gliding his tongue against her sensitive skin. His hands came to rest carefully at her waist—avoiding her sore ribs, holding onto her gently but with a tension in his grip that let her know that he wanted to do more. He deepened the kiss gradually, slipping his tongue past her lips and into her mouth, probing and tasting her. Sawyer lifted her carefully up off of the stool, pulling her body against his in the gloom of the closed restaurant, gently wrapping his arms around her. Adriana was trembling already, her body heating up. It had been over a month since she’d had any real physical contact with Sawyer—at least, anything vaguely romantic. She wanted more—in spite of the humming pain from her injuries, she was hungry, starving, for contact with his body. She wanted to feel him inside of her, wanted to touch his bare skin, see her dark umber against his pink-pale.

Sawyer broke away from the kiss abruptly and Adriana fell back, her mind reeling, her body tingling all over, any pain at all forgotten. “Do you have to come in early tomorrow?” he asked her, his voice ragged and breathless. Adriana shook her head. “Text your mom and let her know you’re at my place,” Sawyer suggested. Adriana smiled slowly.

“Let me get my purse.” Sawyer helped her hobble back to the office; he locked the front door, helped her arm the alarm, and walked her out to her car.

“Drive around front and follow me,” he told her. Adriana nodded, feeling the excitement already surging through her body. She threw her purse into the passenger seat and cranked her car, turning on the lights. She watched as Sawyer disappeared around the corner of the building and pulled out of her spot, making her way slowly around to the front.

When she pulled into the driveway behind him, she was buzzing from head to toe with anticipation. Adriana shut off her car and struggled with her seatbelt; between the limited mobility of one arm and the nervous excitement she felt, she had barely managed to get herself out of the belt before Sawyer opened the door for her, reaching in and pulling her carefully out. He wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her close, kissing her hungrily while he caressed her all over. His hands brushed her bruised ribs and Adriana winced, trying to stifle the pain that jolted her—she didn’t want anything at all to interrupt her. “Sorry,” Sawyer murmured against her lips, moving his hands down along her waist. He deepened the kiss, not quite pinning her against the car, caressing her more cautiously, making sure to avoid the sore spots as he explored her body.

Moments later, he was leading her into the house, closing the door behind them impatiently and not even bothering to lock it as he half-carried her into the bedroom. “It’s been so long,” Sawyer said in a low voice, kissing along the column of her throat.

“Too long,” Adriana agreed breathlessly. She trailed her hands over his shoulders and back, finding the familiar topography, caressing him through his uniform. Sawyer’s hands slipped up underneath her blouse and she moaned at the feeling of his warm skin against hers, the rough calluses on his fingertips rasping against her in a way that sent thrills up her spine. She was burning up, all sense of pain dulled, muted by the rising lust in her veins.

Her clothes fell away almost effortlessly, and Adriana struggled to undress Sawyer, wanting him naked too, wanting his body against hers, inside of her, filling her up. Her splinted arm made her clumsy, and after a few moments of fumbling, Sawyer broke away from her lips, chuckling. He unbuttoned his uniform shirt quickly, tossing it aside and hauling his undershirt over his head in a fluid movement that Adriana envied. She took the quick moment before he closed the distance between them once more to take in the slightly pink pallor of his skin, the tan lines formed on his arms from time outdoors in his uniform. Then Sawyer was too close for her to take him in, his hands carefully cupping her full breasts, bringing them up to his lips. Adriana moaned as he kissed every inch of her breasts, lingering at her nipples, teasing them with his mouth until they hardened into firm little nubs that tingled the moment the cooler air of the room hit them. Her whole body was full of fire, her nerves dancing with electric sensation, as she squirmed, impatient for more.

Sawyer guided her gently onto the bed, laying down next to her, his hands dancing over her body and down between her legs. Adriana moaned out as he found her pleasure center by touch, stroking and rubbing her slowly. She felt herself gushing against his fingertips, felt her inner muscles flexing and relaxing in spasms that made her more and more turned on by the moment. She squirmed and writhed, barely feeling the pain in her ribs, leg, and arm as she shifted alongside him. “I want you,” he murmured. “Are you—are you okay to do this?” Adriana nodded.

“If you stop I will do my level best to kill you.” Sawyer laughed and rolled onto his back, carefully carrying Adriana with him; she carefully straddled his hips, balancing her weight on her good leg as she pried and tugged on the fly of his uniform pants. Fortunately the closure was less complicated than his shirt, and in a few moments, Sawyer helped her, easing both the pants and his underwear over his hips. Adriana felt his hands firm on her hips as she settled on top of him, rubbing against the hard, hot ridge of his erection, teasing them both until she thought she couldn’t possibly stand it anymore. She was soaking wet, feeling a bone-deep hunger that was stronger than any pain she had ever felt.

In the dim light of his bedside table lamp, Adriana could see her dark fingers splayed across Sawyer’s shoulders, umber on pale, like shade and light mingling on a summer day through a screen of trees. The sight stayed with her as she sank down onto his length, letting him fill her up slowly. Sawyer let out a long, low groan, his hands tightening on her hips, his eyes falling closed for just a moment. They began to move together, awkwardly at first—the long separation, paired with Adriana’s limitations due to her injuries, made it difficult for them to find their mutual rhythm. But after long moments, they were both falling into a tidal rhythm, finding the perfect pace, the perfect position.