I groaned, noticing that Nikki's lips remained slightly parted. Her cheeks flush from her emotional release. Her eyes distant, yet she kept her gaze trained on my face.
Waiting. Just like...
No! Stop it!
Two words do not infer consent. Not without a full understanding of what she is getting into. She may not even be into that. We have to—
"Ben?"
I blinked. "Sorry."
"Hunter...he's not home right now. But I can't stay there. I—"
"Shh. I'll take care of it." I cupped her face, brushing my thumb over the rise of her cheekbone. Her skin was warm against mine. So soft. "If that's okay with you?"
She nodded slowly, rolling a corner of her lower lip into her mouth.
I shut my eyes. So many thoughts were running through my head. Most of them inappropriate, given the current situation.
Focus, pal. Get your mind out of the gutter. Her safety comes first.
When I looked at her again, Nikki was still worrying her lip. The words in my head suddenly spilled out. "Please don't do that. You're distracting me."
Her teeth released their hold, leaving a slight indentation behind. "Oh, sorry."
God, if she only knew the effect she had on me. It was actually painful to swallow now. "You said he was gone. For how long?"
"A couple of days. He had to go to Florida for business."
I hoped I masked the surprise and excitement from my face. Was he going for a drug run? I had to get word to Davenport. But first... "I'm going to take you to get your things."
She whimpered then, her shoulders hunching.
"Don't worry. I'll be with you. Take whatever you need now. You won't be back. If you leave something behind, I'll buy you another one."
"Where am I going to—"
"My place. Until I can set something else up."
Her whole face brightened for a moment before she dipped her head again. She must have remembered what I'd just said not a minute ago because she raised it, though she stared somewhere over my shoulder. Making me wonder if she was afraid I'd be able to read something in her eyes.
I was determined to unravel her mystery. I liked a challenge. It would just take more time alone with her. Which ironically, I would now have.
She scooted away, gathering her purse from the other end of the couch. "Let's get this over with."
As we made our way back to the stairway, she slipped her left hand into my right. I held my breath. Hesitating before closing my fingers around hers.
They were slender. Soft. Delicate. Just like the rest of her. And they fit so well within mine.
Bruce was standing at the top of the stairs, keeping watch over the lower level. He turned when we approached. Raised an eyebrow.
I gave him an upward tip of my chin. "Thanks, man."
"All good?"
"It will be."
His gaze darted down, probably noticing our linked hands. But like a professional, he only said, "Glad I could help."
While we maneuvered through the customers downstairs, Nikki's grip tightened. Maybe she was afraid I'd let go. If so, she had nothing to worry about. And once again, for the life of me, I struggled to understand why I had this inexplicable drive to protect her.
Her arm started shaking the moment we stepped outside. She let out a squeal when I tried to put my coat around her using one hand and bumped her injured arm. Reminding me of her fragile state. I didn't want to, but I had to release our hold. Which made her whimper.
I quickly adjusted the material over her shoulders. My hands stilled as I pulled the lapels tighter under her chin. It hit me that we were standing in the same spot we had last Friday. Minus the biting rain.
Our faces were only inches apart. And despite what she had been through, I saw something new in her eyes that hadn't even been there a few minutes ago. Trust. That moved me deeply. She knew nothing about me, yet she was willing to put her life in my hands? It was profound.
I groaned softly, and her head tilted back. Maybe in invitation. Maybe out of surprise for why I'd made the sound. Either way, the temptation called to me. But I pushed it away with the release of the jacket and took her hand again before continuing down the sidewalk to the opening in the wrought-iron fence.
She kept pace with my longer strides. I glanced at her as we went under the lights over the arched entrance. Noticed she was worrying her lower lip again. The urge returned. Rising up stronger than before. It was harder now, but somehow, I harnessed restraint.
My car was right where I'd left it twenty-four hours ago. I held the door open for Nikki. Helped her get the belt on without hurting her arm. And walked around to get behind the wheel. All the while, missing the feeling of that small, warm section of her skin touching mine.
###
Neither of us spoke on the drive. Instead of wondering what must be swirling through her brain, I used the time to consider the next step of my impromptu plan. After we picked up her things, we had to find an open restaurant. My stomach was uneasy. I knew at least part of it was due to a hunger for food—that sandwich had definitely not been filling. The rest? Hmm...
Nikki let out a muffled cry as I pulled into the spot the Charger had vacated.
Reaching out, I squeezed her hand. "Remember, you're not alone. And he's not here."
Her hand shook so much when she tried to unlock the front door that the keychain made a dull ringing sound. I placed my hand over hers. Steadying it so she could get the key into the keyhole.
The door swung open. But she remained outside. Breathing heavily.
I rested my hand on her good shoulder.
She whispered, "Thank you. For everything."
"I haven't done anything yet."
"You've done more than you know."
"Well then, you're very welcome." When she still didn't move, I gestured to the doorway. "I know he's gone, but the quicker you do this, the sooner we get out of here. After you."
She nodded then led the way into her miserable abode with a big sigh.
The inside pretty much matched the exterior. There wasn't much to see in the living room except a threadbare couch, a faded leather recliner, and a dated fireplace with a flatscreen TV mounted overhead. So far, the latter and the Charger were Hunter's only visible signs of his success in his side business. Which made me wonder if we had been given reliable intel.
Although minimal in furniture and decoration, the room looked clean. In order. Someone—Nikki, presumably—had taken care to place blankets and small pillows on the available seating. Tried to make it at least appear to be cozy.
There was a wall directly behind the front door, just as I had dreamt it. Now, instead of me pressing her up against it, I imagined Hunter. On how many occasions had he held her there? Threatened her? Abused her?
I noticed that Nikki had stopped in between two doorways, staring at the corner where they met. I could see a stove at the back of the house through the one straight ahead. The other led into a room off the wall behind the front door.
"Get only what you need."
She nodded and disappeared through the doorway straight ahead.
Only a few steps after her found me standing in the tiniest kitchen, located exactly where I had surmised it would be during my stakeout. While the appliances, fixtures, and wall and floor coverings looked dated, everything was clean, like the previous room. Not a dirty dish in the rack next to the kitchen sink. Not a towel out of place.
Was it all just Nikki's way of keeping some semblance of order in her chaotic world? Or part of Hunter's control over her? A way to keep her domesticated?
I heard a drawer slam shut and tried to enter the room to the right of the kitchen. With a combination tub and shower that took up most of the space, the bathroom looked too small for even one person. I remained in the doorway, opening my mouth to ask if she wanted help, but nothing came out.
When she turned to me, her hands were full with a hairdryer, a flat-looking curling iron, a brush, and a makeup case. The latter surprised me. I could have sworn she didn't use cosmetics. But then again, maybe it wasn't for her face.
"Let me take those." I put my hands out, gathering the items like an offering.
She opened the cabinet below the sink, stared at the contents, and then closed the door without removing anything. However, two narrow bottles from the tub enclosure were added to the pile. The labels were mostly worn away, but I could read the words "jasmine" and "shampoo" on one of them. I raised an eyebrow. Not perfume as I'd presumed.
Then I followed her back through the living room to the only other space in the house: the bedroom. She yanked drawers open on a dresser, randomly tossing things onto the bed before slamming the drawer and starting on another one. Panties and bras. Socks. Some stockings. A few T-shirts. Another pair of jeans. From a small box on top of the dresser, she removed a handful of jewelry that she stuffed in her purse.
Her shoulders were visibly shaking as she reached into the closet. I added the items in my arms to her bed and stepped up behind her. That's when I saw her wet cheeks.
All of the desire that had built up since holding her in the club immediately faded into guilt. Disgust in myself. How horribly insensitive of me to even think about pursuing her in any way right now after learning of her trauma? I made a resolution to keep my thoughts more in check going forward. Neither my feelings nor her situation were going to be rectified overnight.
"Let me do that." I gently took her hand off a hanger. "Just point out what you want."
Nikki sniffled. Nodded.
We made quick work of sorting her clothes from Hunter's as she only had a handful of tops and slacks. No dresses. No skirts. Nothing outrightly...feminine. There were three pairs of shoes and two jackets. Was her minimalistic approach to fashion her own decision?
"You'll need your suitcase."
