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“Please. I just want Sampson.”
“Come on. Come with me.” He reached for her and she felt the panic break free from the box she’d held it loosely in.
“No! No!” She stumbled back into the tree. “Stay away! Stay away from me!”
She was barely aware of the sound of an approaching motorcycle. All she could see was a man in a uniform coming toward her.
She slid onto her ass, her arms rising to protect herself as sobs wracked her poor, sore body.
The motorcycle went past, but then seemed to return.
“Maeve? Maeve, listen to me.”
“Hey! What’s going on here?”
The deep voice was one she recognized instantly. But was she dreaming? Was it wistful thinking?
“Nothing to worry about, sir,” the police officer said calmly. “She’s just a bit upset. I’m getting her somewhere safe.”
“She doesn’t look like she wants to go with you.”
She raised her head up. Her eyes met his bright blue ones.
“Maeve!”
With a sob, she climbed to her feet and launched herself at Isaiah. He caught her up, pulling her close.
“What the fuck? Maeve, what are you doing out here?” He drew her back, staring down at her bruised face. His eyes darkened and he turned to look at the cop. “Who the fuck hit her?”
“That’s what I was trying to find out. Someone called and said she was sitting out here, looking distressed. I’m just here to help.”
“Well, you’re not helping,” Isaiah told him. “Maeve is scared of cops. You need to leave.”
“I can’t leave. Someone hurt her.”
“Yeah, and then you fucking terrified her. Don’t worry, we’ll look after her.” Isaiah held her to him with one arm, then drew his phone out.
“Maeve, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” the cop asked.
Maybe he was a good guy. Just doing his job. But she wasn’t going anywhere with him.
“Sampson, Maeve’s out here . . . on the roadside.”
She could hear Sampson yelling something. Isaiah sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know why she missed check-in, but she’s outside the gate. Some cop was trying to force her into his car.”
More yelling. Isaiah pulled his phone from his ear.
“I suggest you leave, man,” he said to the officer. “He’s not happy.”
The officer frowned. “I wasn’t forcing her. She should come and make a statement about who hurt her.”
She made a small, scared noise. She hated being like this.
“She’s not going with you.” Isaiah glanced down at her. “But if she needs to make a statement, then we’ll be in contact.”
The cop didn’t look happy. But then a huge, red truck pulled up. She sagged in relief as Sampson climbed out. He was enormous. Tall and muscular with a savage look on his face.
She slid from Isaiah’s embrace and threw herself at Sampson.
