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A zap of fear runs along my spine. I don’t want her alone. I don’t think this is a good idea. Not tonight. Not ever.
“Is that a good idea? After everything that happened tonight?”
She slams a hand onto her hip and I feel another kind of zing that zaps me straight in the dick.There’s my sassy girl! “I think that I’m an adult and I can stay in my own home if I choose to!” she grumbles, her eyebrow raised. “Right?”
I nod my head slowly. “Yeah, I suppose so. But wouldn’t it be safer to stay here with your brother?”
“I don’t want to,” she pouts, her full bottom lip pushed out. I want to smack her ass so much right now. She’s being a little bit of a brat and even though I don’t want her to go home, the brat in her brings out the possessive asshole in me.
And I can’t say no to her no matter how much I want to. “Fine. I’ll run you back to your car. Come on.” I stalk back to my SUV and unlock the doors, waiting until she follows along behind me and climbs in the car. Then I take a deep breath, trying to bring my raging damn body until control and slide into the car. Instantly that light floral scent that is uniquely her wraps around me, making my head swim.
Dammit! This is fucking torture.
“Buckle up,” I growl at her. She shoots me a puzzled look but clicks it into place and sits back quietly. The whole drive to her car, she doesn’t say a word but it doesn’t feel like an angry silence.
Then I pull up alongside her car on the road and instantly notice a problem.
“Ummm. Ruth? Were your tires flat?”
She shoots up, wide-eyed. “No! What the hell?” She clambers out of the car and I swiftly follow her, stopping beside a back tire that’s now as flat as a pancake. It takes me seconds to spot the slashes in the tire. They aren’t subtle. Whoever did this just went at that tire like they were in a horror movie. Multiple slashes run up the tires.
I glance over when Ruth draws in a harsh breath. Her pale, milky skin is practically translucent. Her eyes are bright with tears. Her hand reaches out shakily, running along the edge of one of the cuts. I want to grab her hand and tug it away from the violence inherent in the slashes. Want to pull her up and drag her home with me.
Instead I stand up and hover over her protectively, my eyes scanning the road, looking for anything that will tell me who did this.
There’s nothing. Just the violent attack perpetrated on her vehicle.
Her shoulders are hunched and shaking. My heart breaks for her. A well of rage rises up in me and I want to kill this asshole. My own hands shake fiercely by my side and I have to clench them to stop me from punching anything in sight.
Except for her. Her I will protect with my last breath and I feel that certainty rising in my chest, almost strangling me. She’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to care for and mine to hold.
Now I know why I couldn’t stay away from her. Why I needed to have her attention on me even if it was just to fight with me. I need her like I need food and water. She’s essential to my life and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me from keeping her safe. Even if it costs me my life. It means nothing without her in it.
I lean down and hold a hand out to her. She eyes it warily, like it’s going to bite her, but then with a sigh, she holds out a shaking hand and lets me lift her to her feet.
When she’s steady, I nod at my car. “You go sit down and I’ll write up a quick report. Don’t worry. We’re going to find this son of a bitch.”
Her shining head nods and she walks back to my car, slowly, like she’s sleepwalking.
I take some quick notes and call it into the office. Then after arranging a tow to the garage Harvey owns, calling her to let her know, I pace back to my car.
When I slide in the seat, she’s facing the window, her forehead resting on the cool glass.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go to your brother’s?”
She nods. “Yeah. I’ll be alright.”
I want to scream. Want to argue with her, want to tell her there’s no way in hell she can go home.
But I don’t. Instead I put the car in motion and drive carefully to her store. I pull up alongside the back staircase. “Wait here. Do you have your keys? I want to take a look in your place. Make sure there’s nothing there.”
She hands me the keys and I go up the metal stairs slowly, my worried eyes scanning the dark. Nothing stirs in the balmy night air and I push the key in and then shove the door open. Flipping the switch, I gasp out loud, anger rising so fast in me I feel lightheaded with it.
Her apartment is trashed. The room is filled with furniture slashed, clothes with paint thrown on them and curse words painted on her walls. It’s not the worst crime scene I’ve ever seen but personally I’m so pissed that I can’t stop gritting my teeth.
A soft gasp behind me makes me whirl, my hand jerking at my holster.
“I told you to stay in the car,” I growl, frustrated that she has to see this.”
