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Or maybe it’s from bleach.
My stomach churns at the thought of leaving her here alone.
Yeah, it’s not happening.
I incline my head toward her half open suitcase, asking, “Is that your luggage?”
Narrowing her eyes, there’s a curious, questioning note in her tone when she replies, “Yes.”
When I take a single step forward, I come up short as she takes a hold of the doorjamb and door, blocking my way and refusing to move.
I don’t have the time or patience for this right now. The sooner I get her back to my place and I can bury my head back in work, the better. “Get your luggage, Savannah. You’re coming to my place.”
Her mouth falls open as a bark of laughter leaves her lips. Blinking rapidly, she tries to process my statement. If it’s what Jack wants, it’s what Jack gets. He’s my brother. Not in the literal sense, but since the day I met him, he’s had my back. This is the least I can do for him.
“Excuse me?” she scoffs.
Running a hand through my hair, I breathe out an exasperated sigh. “You heard me. I promised Jack I’d look out for you and the best place to do that is at my apartment, not some…” I pause, looking around as I try to aptly describe the hovel she’s staying in. “Rundown hotel in Brooklyn.”
Not exactly the words I would use in other company to describe this place, with its peeling wallpaper and faint scent of urine, but it’ll do.
Squaring her shoulders, Savannah lifts her chin, replying, “First of all, I don’t need to be looked after. I’m a grown woman not some dependent child you need to coddle. Second of all, I wouldn’t stay with you if your apartment was the last place on earth.”
She’s part way to shutting the door when I wedge my foot between it and the frame. She’s not getting rid of me that easily. I have one job to do—keep her safe—and typically that involves not leaving her in a shithole like this.
In a last ditch effort, based on the desperation coating her words, she tries to reason with me. Her efforts are futile, but I let her have her say as I try to reign in my frustration at her and the situation she’s put herself in.
“Look, I can call Jack and tell him that you came by and that where I’m staying is perfectly acceptable. You’ll be off the hook, and I can finally go to bed because you’re giving me a headache.”
Certain that she’s finished with recounting her foolish plan, I put enough weight on the door to have her step back. She moves further into the room, her arms wrapping around her small waist as I stride in with purpose.
Concentrate, Noah.
My eyes move around the room, taking in the lack of personal items that are out of the suitcase. We can be on the move in a matter of minutes, if she just gets her shit together instead of standing there staring at me. I can feel her gaze on me, burning through my skin and deep into my soul.
My voice is gruff when I say, “Get your things together, Savannah. Or I’ll pack for you.”
Folding her arms across her chest, she stares me down, refusing to move. “I’m not coming with you. I’m fine here.”
I’ve had enough. She doesn’t get to act like she hasn’t disrupted my evening. Like she hasn’t brought to the surface all of the protective instincts forherthat I’ve worked so hard to bury.
In a carefully controlled tone, barely holding onto the anger that’s built inside of me, I reply, “It wasn’t a choice, Savannah. Pack your bags or I’ll do it for you. I’m not leaving you here to get carried out in a fucking body bag tomorrow morning.”
She doesn’t move, so I maneuver around the room, swiping up her wallet, phone and discarded clothes, praying to God I don’t come across anything intimate.
I’m not sure I could handle it.
As I stride over to her suitcase, she finally springs into action, darting across the room, blocking my path.
“Move out of the way, Savannah,” I snap, my control slipping. I’m certain the vein in my neck is bulging if the way my pulse races is anything to go by. Sucking in a breath, I try to calm my frustration. “You need to understand that I’m not leaving without you, so either you come with me willingly or I drag you out of here.”
“I’d scream,” she murmurs distractedly.
My response is quick and without thought. “Nobody would care.”
Almost immediately I regret my choice of words.Christ.Foot meet mouth. What is wrong with me?
Dropping eye contact with me, Savannah nods before clearing her throat and moving past me into the bathroom.
