“Pull up here.” I pointed to a break in the cars lining the side of her street and Reed weaved into the space, tires skidding. I opened the door and dashed out. I could see police lights, but not in front of the row of houses. They’d probably pulled into the alley as that’s where Reed had told 9-1-1 how the guy got in.
“Emory!” I shouted and spun in a circle in the middle of the street. Cars were parallel parked bumper to bumper on both sides for the entire block. Everything was quiet. Where the hell was she? “Emory!”
As I lifted my cell to my ear to tell her to come out, she stood up from between two cars. She was like an apparition appearing from nowhere.
“Gray!”
Relief shot through me like I was back in battle and realizing I hadn’t been hit in a firefight. It was a sick combination of adrenaline and sheer relief. She was on the far side of the street, about five cars down. I ran to her, my boots slapping loudly on the pavement.
I slowed within a few feet of her, looked her over, from her shiny bright toenails to her bare legs, tiny sleep shorts and tank top to her tousled hair. It was the look on her face, a combination of fear and desperate need—not a sexual need, but a longing for someone so great that it was almost fierce—that had me pulling her into me. Her arms went around my waist, gripping me tightly as if she were afraid to let go.
As I planted kisses on the top of her head, the scent of coconut soothed the anger. Her frantic breathing moved my arms, and she felt warm, so very warm against me. She was alive and safe, and I never wanted to go through that again, fucking ever.
Reed came up besid
e us, stood like a soldier waiting for an order. I didn’t move, but I gave the slightest nod of my head to indicate that she was okay. I watched as his shoulders lowered in relief, and he walked away, perhaps to connect with the police who were now coming down the block.
I tried to move back, but Emory wouldn’t loosen her grip. “Is he gone?”
I knew she wasn’t talking about Reed because I doubted she even knew he was there. “Fuck, yeah. He probably left when he heard the police sirens. You’re safe, I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you. Baby, let me look at you.” She loosened her grip enough for me to pull back and cup her face in my hands. “Are you hurt?”
Her eyes were wide and bright, her pupils dilated, and the fear had not gone away entirely. She shook her head, licked her lips. I felt little tremors shake her core. “No. I’m fine.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
“I was asleep, and I heard a crash downstairs. He… swore and bumped into something. I climbed out the window, and then he turned the hall light on. God, he was after me. Gray, he turned the hall light on!”
She was trembling in my hold, her eyes even wider. The panic had not subsided, but she wasn’t freaking out. I pulled her into a kiss, soft yet seeking, as if I could take her fear, her pain away. I broke it off with a gasp, then tucked her back into my chest to soothe her, but it was more for me, to know she was in my arms, and there wasn’t a thing that could happen to her with her there.
I tried to calm my breathing, to slow my racing heart, but what the fuck? The guy had turned the lights on? That was bad. Really fucking bad.
She climbed out the window? How the hell had she climbed out the window? I looked down the long row of houses but couldn’t say in the dark which one was hers. All I knew was that her bedroom was on the second floor, and unless she was Spiderman, I had no fucking idea how she got down without breaking her legs… or her neck.
Reed approached with a police officer. I kissed her head once more. “Baby, the police are here to talk with you. Are you ready for that?”
If my dad was behind all this, the police didn’t need to know about the possibility. I’d deal with him in my own way, in a way that ensured he wouldn’t get away with it. He was powerful enough to slip through the legal system without even a slap on the wrist. I'd seen it happen before, time and again. If he was guilty, I wouldn’t stop with just a slap, and it fucking wouldn’t be on his wrist.
She nodded against my chest then turned so she faced the officer, but I kept one hand on her. Now that I knew she was safe, I wasn’t letting her go.
15
EMORY
* * *
Gray stood beside me the entire time I gave my story to the police, his hand warm and heavy on my shoulder. His grip tightened every time I said something especially bad, like when I told about the guy yelling for me from my bedroom window as I ran off or about climbing down the emergency ladder. With the police officer’s permission, Reed was escorted into the house to grab a sweatshirt and flip-flops for me to wear, so I wasn’t just braless and in a snug tank top and sleep shorts. When the officer had grilled me enough, we’d gone into the house together to see if anything was missing, but other than things knocked off the counter and a chair moved, most likely the crashing sounds I'd heard, nothing had been taken. The back door had been jimmied, and the glass from the broken lightbulb was still on the stoop although crunched into tiny pieces by his feet.
Fortunately, Gray coaxed the officer into having me give a complete statement at a different time. He could tell I was barely holding it together, and I was relieved for his presence, for his taking control of the situation.
When the police left and the neighbors went back into their houses, most likely checking the security of their deadbolts and security systems, the fear returned. “Gray, I… I can’t stay here.”
He turned me to face him, bent at the waist, so he was my height. “You’re coming home with me.”
Relief made me weak, knowing I wouldn’t have to stay in the house right now. I pointed over my shoulder. “But the back door, the police said it was broken.”
“It’s being taken care of.”
How? “But—”