Resisting Her (3 page)

Fuck
. He couldn’t just leave her here,
could he?

Savannah stepped in closer, wrapping her arms
around his waist and tucking her head under his chin. “Thank you,”
she whispered.

Her eagerness at physical contact surprised
him, but he only hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around
her. Cole patted her back, hating that his attempts at soothing her
were clumsy and awkward. He’d never been good at this kind of
thing: emotions, touchy-feely crap. Maybe his presence would be
enough to calm her. And although he didn’t know how to show it, he
felt protective. He wouldn’t let anyone hurt her. If anyone so much
as looked at her the wrong way, Cole would knock them on their ass.
He held her for several long minutes until the beating of her heart
slowed to normal, and she backed out of his arms.

Their eyes flashed to one another’s at the
sounds of an argument going on in the next room. Angry voices
carried through the thin walls. Another argument. Cole and Savannah
exchanged glances.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

She nodded, looking solemn.

“Here’s my card.” He fished the card from his
wallet and placed it in her trembling hand. “Call me if you need
anything.”

Savannah remained silent, glancing at the
card, running her thumb along the raised lettering.

“Lock your door when I leave, okay?”

She nodded tightly, sucking her bottom lip
into her mouth, as if there was something more she wanted to say,
but stopped herself.

Cole left reluctantly He knew it was getting
late, and as much as it pained him to leave her, he couldn’t put it
off any longer. He was sure he was crossing some sort of
professional line even being here. He waited outside the door until
he heard the lock slide into place, the sound not nearly as
reassuring as he would have hoped.

Once he was outside, Cole took a deep breath
and scrubbed his hands across his face. The cooling blast of autumn
air filled his lungs, but did nothing to return him to his senses.
He climbed inside his truck and gripped the steering wheel until
his knuckles were white, trying to will himself to start the engine
and drive away from her.

***

The lock on her door did little to calm her
nerves. The deep, raspy voices of her male neighbors sent shivers
down her spine. She huddled in closer to the thin, scratchy
blanket.

The unfamiliar sounds and smells of the house
left her on edge and shaking. The brief interlude with Cole had
helped, but now that she was back in the bleak reality of the tiny
room again, an impending panic attack throbbed in her chest.

Growing up the way she had, listening to
Jacob’s crazy rants about sex being dirty and diseased, and men of
the world being fueled by only their lust, made her hyper-aware of
the sounds in the rooms next to her. Their loud voices, crude
glances, and grubby hands. Jacob constantly drilled into her that
men would only want her for one thing.

Realization struck. She was alone. Totally
and completely alone. Panic crept in to the edges of her brain, but
she fought it, holding the darkness at bay. Just barely.
Think
Savannah
. If she could go on after losing her mom, she could
survive this, too. Didn’t have much choice.

Her muscles trembled with the effort of lying
still against the hard cot. She curled into a ball, hugging her
knees to her chest, hoping it would sooth her. A loud whack against
the wall made her jump. Savannah sat up in bed as the pain in her
chest built. She drew a slow shaky breath and said a silent prayer.
She tried not to break down again, but before she knew it, hot
tears were freely streaming down her cheeks and she was wishing
that Cole hadn’t left. The only times she’d felt safe during the
past week of this ordeal was when he was near.

She grabbed his card from the window sill and
clutched it, crushing it to her heart. She wished she was stronger,
that she didn’t break down so easily. But after another loud thump
against the wall, she let out a whimper and clamored under the
blankets. She glanced at the door knob, the deadbolt still
vertical, needing reassurance that the door was still locked.

She didn’t want to leave the safety of her
bedroom—and wouldn’t have—had it not been for her insistent bladder
urging her on. There were two bathrooms on the second floor, one
was for women, the other for men. She’d come to learn over the past
few days, tenants used whichever was closest, and since she had the
bad fortune of being surrounded on both sides by male tenants, she
knew the so-called ladies room was filthy and reeked of urine. The
other bathroom was probably no better.

Still clutching Cole’s card, Savannah cracked
open the door and peeked both ways before tiptoeing towards the
bathroom.

She made sure the toilet seat was clean
before she relieved herself. As she stood washing her hands in the
sink, she startled at the pale haunted-looking girl watching her
from the mirror before realizing it was her own reflection.

The bulb above her flickered then died.
Darkness made her head swim. She sucked in a deep breath and held
it as her hands fumbled blindly in front of her, searching out the
door. She’d hated the dark. Always had. Her hands still flailing in
front of her, she begged herself not to panic.

Savannah swayed on her feet, blinking wildly
against the darkness. Before she knew what was happening, she
crashed against the wall, and felt a sharp blow ache through the
back of her skull as she collapsed to the ground.

Cole pulled into his underground parking
garage just as the storm lit up the sky. An angry crack of
lightning pierced the night, followed by a low rumble of thunder.
It had been steadily raining his entire drive home, but the storm
seemed to double its force within a matter of seconds, sheets of
water pouring from the sky.

He was maneuvering into his assigned parking
space when the call came in. His phone had been eerily silent all
weekend, not even Marissa had been in touch. And at this late hour
on Sunday, he didn’t know who it could be. Fishing the phone from
his center console, he noted the Dallas area code, but didn’t
recognize the number.

He couldn’t understand her at first, her
voice was high with tension, and barely above a whisper, but he
soon realized it was Savannah. And she was asking him to come back.
He pulled a u-turn and gunned the engine before her words even
registered.

Keeping her on the line as he drove, he
wanted to bombard her with questions, to find out if something had
happened, but he resisted. Even as all that flashed through his
mind, he’d found himself calming her, saying he would be right
there, and flooring the gas pedal to get back to her. After ending
the call, he slammed a fist against the dash. Damn, he shouldn’t
have left her at that place. But what choice did he have?

He thumbed the steering wheel, waiting for
the light to change. He had to get her out of that house; probably
check her into a hotel for the night. That would be the right thing
to do, yet he knew with absolute certainty what he really wanted to
do. He wanted to bring her home with him, where he could have her
under the same roof and ensure she was safe.

When Cole arrived, he pressed the buzzer at
the front door for the after-hours entrance. He was greeted by an
older man, the night guard, he presumed.

“Where’s Savannah?” He stormed past the man,
following the sounds of soft sobs toward the back of the house.
Entering an office, he found an older woman seated behind a desk,
and Savannah crumpled in a ball on the chair across from her.
“Savannah,” his voice rasped.

She looked up and Cole nearly staggered a
step back. Christ. It looked like someone had used her face as a
punching bag. Her swollen and busted lip was encrusted with blood
and her left eye was already darkening with a bruise. When she met
his eyes she let out a soft sigh, seemingly comforted by his
presence.

“Shh. I’m here.” He weaved his fingers under
her hair to cradle the back of her neck. Then he turned his
attention to the woman behind the desk. “What the hell happened
here?”

“Have a seat, Mr.….?”

“Cole Fletcher.” He took the chair next to
Savannah.

She crawled into his lap, burying her face in
his neck as little sobs racked her chest. His arms, working of
their own accord, wound themselves around Savannah and shifted her
to a more comfortable position on his lap.

Once Savannah was settled, his training
kicked in and he began firing questions at the facility
coordinator. She explained they’d briefly lost power in the storm,
and when they went upstairs to check and make sure everyone was
secure, they found Savannah unconscious on the bathroom floor,
where she’d apparently fainted and smacked her head on the
porcelain sink on her way down. His fingers automatically threaded
into her hair, smoothing the bump he found on the back of her
head.

The coordinator seemed unconcerned, like
she’d dealt with these situations too many times. But he hadn’t,
and neither had Savannah. Vacant eyes stared at the wall across
from him. He was worried that shock was beginning to set in. He
soothed a hand up and down her back, not quite sure what to do to
comfort her.

The woman behind the desk looked over the top
of her glasses, mouth twisted into a disapproving frown. Cole could
tell the woman was wondering exactly what kind of relationship he
shared with Savannah.

His tone and questions were professional, yet
Savannah’s body currently wrapped around his said it was something
else entirely. He chose not to identify himself as an agent, and
let the woman think what she wanted.

Once in situated in his lap, Savannah’s
breathing returned to normal, and the steady thump of her heartbeat
against his chest told him she was recovering. She was alright.
Thank fucking God. He didn’t understand why his presence calmed her
– not like he had a lot to offer – but he wasn’t about to question
it. Not when she was so fragile.

The woman held up a hand. “Listen, I know
this isn’t the Ritz, but if she wants to stay here, she can. If she
wants to leave, fine. It’s up to her.”

Savannah lifted her head from his chest and
met Cole’s eyes. “Can you take me away from here?”

She couldn’t understand what she was asking
for. Of course Cole wanted to take her far away from this place,
from the first time he’d laid eyes on the rundown house. But
protocol and not crossing professional boundaries stirred in the
back of his head. He resisted the urge to smooth the tangled
strands of hair from her face, but kept his arms locked around her
middle. Savannah’s bloodied lip, swollen face, and the exhaustion
he could read on her features told him now might not be the time to
argue. “Okay. We can go.”

Tomorrow they’d figure everything out.

He lifted Savannah from the chair and held
her like he had at the compound. And just as strong as before, the
need to protect her flared up inside of him.

Carrying her out into the night, Cole opened
the passenger door and helped her inside. He reached across her to
buckle her seat belt. When his hands brushed her ribs, she
startled, sucking in a shaky breath. He should probably check her
over for injuries, assuming that she’d likely sustained some bumps
and bruises, but his first priority was getting her out of
here.

She was silent on the drive to his condo, not
even asking where they were going. She implicitly trusted him. The
feeling was heady.

He kept the radio low, he left Savannah to
her thoughts, looking out the window as he drove. He snuck glances
her way, wondering what she could possibly be thinking about. The
awkward silence dug into his brain like a dripping faucet.

“This your first time in the city?” he
asked.

Savannah kept her eyes on the passing
buildings. “We didn’t leave the compound much.”

Of course. Stupid question
. He tried
again. “Does your head hurt? How about your ribs?”

She ran her fingers through her matted hair,
checking the bump. “I think it’s okay now.”

At least she’d stopped crying. Nothing made
him panic more than a woman crying.

When he parked in his assigned parking space
and turned off the engine, a hushed silence fell over them in the
confined space. His heart rate ramped up in sudden awareness of
her. The light, feminine scent that clung to her skin, her petite
frame, and the overwhelming desire to protect her— he couldn’t deny
the possessive ache that raced through his system.

“Why did you pass out, Savannah?”

She swallowed heavily. “That place scared me.
There were too many people…too many strange men…”

He nodded. It wasn’t lost on him that he was
a strange man to her, yet here she was alone with him too. “This is
where I live,” he said finally.

Her eyes widened. “You brought me home with
you?”

“Is that okay?”

She studied him, her expression weary and
unsure and squirmed in her seat.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t know where else to take
you. Come inside, and if you decide not to stay, I’ll take you
anywhere you want to go.”

Seemingly satisfied, she climbed from the
car.

Savannah insisted she could walk, but Cole
secured an arm around her waist and helped her inside. He tossed
his keys onto the breakfast bar, retaining his hold on her.

He knew he shouldn’t keep her here. God, Norm
and the guys would have a fucking field day with this one. Sure, he
brought his work home most nights, but this was a hell of a lot
different. She could sleep in his guest room tonight, and then he’d
have to take her to another safe house in the morning. For now, he
just wanted her to feel safe. If he needed to install a bigger lock
on her bedroom door to help her feel safe, so be it. They could
pick up some pepper spray too.