by Whitley Cox
“Never mind. Yes, it is. I know where you are. You’re four miles away. Hold tight.”
She shook her head, tears of fear welling up in her eyes. “Aaron, there are men downstairs. I—I think they plan to—” Voices at the foot of the stairs had her pausing. “They’re coming,” she whispered, opening the closest door, which appeared to be a bedroom. She turned on the light.
“Isobel!” Aaron screamed into the phone. “Isobel!”
Isobel was frozen in place as she took in her friend lying unconscious on a bed. Her black miniskirt was still in place but pushed up to reveal Mercedes’s pink lace underwear. Her emerald off-the-shoulder shirt still covered her body. But it was her face that was what made tears drip down Isobel’s face. A big cut across Mercedes’s cheek was fresh with dried blood. Had she put up a fight and they hit her to get her here?
Had Isobel fought them? She ran over to the mirror. There were no cuts or scrapes on her face. Did she go with them willingly? She couldn’t remember.
“IS-O-BEL!” Aaron yelled through the phone.
Noise in the hallway had her ducking into the clothes closet. She was just inside, door closed, breath held, when voices and laughter filled the room.
“IS-O-BEL!” he screamed again.
She put her ear to the phone and whispered. “I can’t talk. Text only.” She texted the rest of her message to him, her fingers trembling with each letter.
In the same room as Mercedes now. She’s passed out. Big cut on her face. I’m hiding in the closet. Both men are in here. I think they plan to assault her.
He texted back.
Stay quiet. We’re almost there. It’s going to be okay. Don’t hang up. Put the phone to your ear.
Swallowing, she put the phone back to her ear.
“Just listen.” His deep voice soothed her. “I’m here for you, Isobel. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll get you out of there. Both of you. Don’t be the hero. We’ll save Mercedes. We’ll save you both. You can do this. You’ve got this. Don’t be the hero, baby. Got it?”
Tears dripped down her cheeks as she struggled to swallow down her sob and not make a bunch of noise.
Her eyesight had adjusted to the small, dark closet. She spied a metal baseball bat leaned up against the corner.
Bend with your knees. Eyes on the ball. Don’t forget to follow through with your swing.
Her dad’s words came back to her. He’d coached her softball team for years, all the way through junior high and senior high. Her team had gone to nationals four times in six years, and they won nationals twice.
Isobel had played shortstop. But she wasn’t nicknamed the homerun kid for no reason. She could knock a ball clear out of the park almost without even trying.
“Isobel!”
She put her ear back to the phone.
“We’re two minutes away. Stay safe, baby. Stay down. Stay with me. I need to know you can hear me. Text me something. Anything.”
Her entire body shook as she struggled to text out the words.
Sophie.
“Good, baby, good. You’re still there. That’s good. We’re almost there. Just a couple more blocks. Stay with me. Stay quiet. I won’t let them hurt you. We can’t let anything happen to you. Sophie loves you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”
Us?
But she didn’t have time to think any harder on Aaron’s obvious blunder when the sound of belt buckles being released drew her attention to the room on the other side of the door.
“Aaron,” she whispered, turning her head into a bunch of hanging dress shirts. “They’re getting undressed. I can’t stand by and do nothing. I can’t let them hurt my friend.”
Her fingers wrapped around the neck of the baseball bat. She tucked her cellphone into the pocket of the jumpsuit, and her other hand fell to the doorknob.
“ISOBEL!” Aaron screamed at her in her pocket.
She was about to open the closet door when the sound of a door being kicked in downstairs had her pausing.
“What the fuck?” Vance hollered.
“Fuck!” Troy murmured.
The bedroom door opened at the same time feet thundered up the stairs.
She opened the closet door just a crack.
The sound of men fighting filled the air, but none of that mattered. She had to wake up her friend. Racing around to the other side of the bed, she propped Mercedes up in the crook of her arm and sat one butt cheek on the bed. “Come on, sweetie. Wake up. You need to wake up.”
Colton appeared in the doorway, his fists bloody. “Is she conscious?”
Isobel shook her head, a tear dripping down her cheek. “No.”
He was around the side of the bed and scooping Mercedes into his arms faster than Isobel could blink. “Cops are on their way. Ambulance too. But we’ve got to get her out of here.”
Isobel followed them down the stairs. “Where’s Aaron?”
“Here.” She spun around at the sound of his voice next to the kitchen and heaved herself into his arms, the tears now falling with abandon.
“Oh thank God.”
His hand fell to her back, and he began to rub, shushing and cooing words she didn’t bother to understand but felt reassured by nonetheless. “It’s okay. It’s all right. I’m here. You’re safe.”
She pushed away from him. “Who’s with Sophie?”
If he and Colton were here, who was with Sophie? Was she in his truck?
His eyes softened, and he pulled her head back to his chest, chuckling softly. “Liam was still over when you called. He’s with her. It’s okay.”
Her body relaxed. The sound of Aaron’s racing heartbeat next to her ear was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever heard.
“Isobel?” Mercedes’s voice on the couch had her leaving Aaron’s embrace and rushing over to her friend. Colton had a small first aid kit open and was treating Mercedes’s cut. He also had a bottle of what looked to be smelling salts.
Isobel fell to her knees in front of her friend. “I’m here.”
“Wh-what happened?”
A knock at the door had Aaron leaving the living room. The space instantly felt colder, bigger, more foreboding. It amazed her how much of an impact his presence had. How much safer she felt when he was near.
Voices filled the strange house. Four heavily armed police officers, two male, two female, entered the living room.
The tall redheaded female cop appeared to be in charge. “Where are they?” she asked, directing her questions to Aaron.
With a glare in his eyes, he jerked his chiseled chin the direction of the kitchen. “In there.” The other female cop and the bald male cop took off to the kitchen.
The redheaded cop’s badge said Rose. Her eyes softened when she approached Isobel and Mercedes. “Hello, I’m Officer Rose.” Her gaze zeroed in on the cut on Mercedes cheek. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath before sinking down onto her knees next to them.
Mercedes’s breathing increased, and she reached frantically for Isobel.
“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Isobel cooed, taking her friend’s hand. “We’re safe now.”
“I’d like to ask you ladies some questions,” the officer said. “But we can do it wherever you feel most comfortable.”
“They should probably get bloodwork to determine what was put in their drinks,” Colton said, standing up and closing his first aid kit. “Those motherfuckers need to burn.”
Officer Rose cleared her throat and the look in her eyes hardened. She didn’t appreciate Colton telling her how to do her job, that was clear. But she remained professional and simply nodded. “Agreed. Now let’s get you two out of here.”
“Agreed,” Aaron said, wrapping an arm around Isobel’s waist and steering her toward the front door.
He never let go of her after that. Never let her out of his sight, even when they went to the police station and the hospital. He was always there. Always with her, making her feel safe and cared for.
And when the
y finally got home and he released her hand, it felt weird.
She knew they’d only had one kiss, but now she knew the pull toward him she had wasn’t one-sided, and she desperately wanted to find a way to hold his hand again, kiss him again, be in his arms again.
She just needed to figure out how to get there—and stay there.
15
Holy fuck!
Aaron needed a drink.
Thankfully, Liam was still at the house, even though Sophie was asleep, and he had a drink waiting for Aaron.
Aaron nodded and swallowed down half his scotch, letting the liquor slide down his throat into his stomach. It had a mild burn to it that he enjoyed, that he needed.
When Isobel called, Aaron’s heart leapt up into his throat. Then the tone of her voice caused his heart to shatter. The terror, the grogginess, every word she spoke sent white-hot shards of rage and fear coursing through him. He knew something was wrong with her before she said she was drugged. She didn’t sound like herself, didn’t sound like the smart, confident woman he’d come to know, come to …
It’d taken everything he had and Colton physically restraining him for Aaron to not choke the life out of the two scumbags with their zippers down.
“The district attorney will be in touch with Isobel and Mercedes within a few days,” Liam said, tipping back his scotch. “She’s a fair attorney. I like her, and she’ll do right by the women. She’ll file the charges, and Isobel and Mercedes will just have to take the stand and testify. We need to nail those motherfuckers to the wall.”
“Fuckers shouldn’t be breathing,” Aaron muttered. “Had to restrain myself. If Colt hadn’t been there, I probably wouldn’t have.”
“And I’d be representing you for homicide, so it’s a good thing he was. Where is he now?”
Aaron leaned against the kitchen counter. “He took Mercedes home. She was really shaken up, so he offered to stay on her couch until she felt better.” He glanced at the knuckles on his right hand. They were cut up, bloody, swollen and red.
“Should probably put some ice on that,” Liam said blandly.
“Probably,” he grunted.
“You still need me?”
Aaron shook his head. “No, man. We’re good. Thanks for sticking around and staying with Soph.”
Liam grabbed his half-empty bottle of scotch off the counter and punched a couple of things into his phone before shoving it into his pocket. “No worries, man. Anytime. Sophie loves her Uncle Liam.” He tucked the steel poker chip case under his arm and headed toward the front door. “Bring the card table with you next weekend, okay? The Uber is two minutes away. I’ll wait outside. Let you get to bed.”
Aaron finished his scotch and put the glass in the sink, following Liam to the door. “Don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep after all that shit.”
“Adrenaline?”
“Yeah.”
“I get that. I’m the same way after a big win in court. I feel fucking invincible. Want to leap from tall buildings and run up walls or something equally stupid.”
Aaron grunted and held the door open for Liam. The nights were getting cooler. Fall was closing in on all of them. “Not sure I’m invincible, but I’m definitely not tired.”
Liam slapped Aaron on the shoulder. “You’ll figure out something. Let me know if you need anything. Let Iz and Mercedes know this isn’t going to get swept under the rug. Those privileged little twats are going to get theirs and then some.”
Aaron hung his head and nodded. “Thanks, man. Appreciate it.”
Headlights illuminated the driveway. “Anytime, man. See you next weekend.” Then Liam headed off toward his Uber, leaving Aaron alone in the house, save for his infant niece and the traumatized nanny who was asleep in her bedroom.
They’d gone straight to the hospital, where a poor and rattled Isobel needed to be held in a vice grip between Aaron’s arms and legs in order to sit for the bloodwork.
She hated needles.
Tears streamed down her face and her body tensed like an iron rod as the gray-haired nurse approached with the kit to collect blood.
“I can’t,” she sobbed, shaking her head and burying her face in his chest. “I can’t. I hate needles. I can’t. I don’t care what drug they gave us. I can’t.”
As if she were one of the skittish horses on the Cahill farm back in Texas, he brought his voice down to a soothing coo and rubbed her back. “You need to, Iz. It’ll be quick. I’m right here. Not going anywhere, babe. I got you. Shh. It’s okay, baby. I got you. I’m here.”
She shook her head. His T-shirt was damp from her tears. “Can’t they just determine what drug it was from Mercedes’s blood test?”
“They might have given you something different. We don’t know. You woke up sooner than she did. She’s still pretty loopy.” He tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear and ran his finger down her jaw, tilting her head up so she was forced to look at him.
Eyes the same shade as the wide-open sky in the heart of Texas blinked back at him, red-rimmed and full of fear. “I’m scared, Aaron.”
“I know, baby, I know. But I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?”
Swallowing, she nodded. “Promise?”
“I promise, baby. I’m right here. Squeeze my hand as tight as you have to. Bite it if need to. I’m here for you. Not going anywhere. Never.”
He made eye contact with the nurse, who’d been standing behind Isobel waiting for her to calm down. She approached gingerly. Isobel tensed even more in his arms as the nurse appeared on her left side.
“Here, Iz.” She’d been sitting sideways on his lap, but he moved her so she straddled him. He wrapped his arms tight around her, keeping her in place.
With gloved hands, a kind smile and calm movements, the nurse lifted Isobel’s arm.
Isobel jerked it out of her grasp. “I can’t.”
“Eyes on me,” Aaron ordered, adopting the tone he used to use when he was training new recruits.
Her eyes widened, her back straightened and her head snapped up from where she’d been staring at the nurse.
“Good girl. Now stay focused on me. Don’t look anywhere else but me, my eyes, okay?”
She nodded.
“I need to hear you say it, Iz.”
“Okay. Your eyes. Look at your eyes.”
“That’s right.”
The nurse lifted her arm one more time. Isobel went to pull away, but Aaron swung his arm out and secured her arm to the armrest. He pushed down hard on her wrist so she couldn’t move it, his other arm pulling her tighter against his chest.
They were nose to nose, breathing the other in. He couldn’t see anything but her.
It was all he wanted to see.
Isobel winced when the needle went in. Her pulse quickened beneath his arm, and her breathing hitched. Hot little puffs of air hit his lips quickly, and pain raced behind her eyes.
“You’re doing great, baby. So great.”
“Almost done,” the nurse said.
“Almost done,” he repeated. “You’re so brave, Iz. So brave. You got this, baby. Just a couple more seconds, then it’ll be all over, then we’ll go home.”
Her lips trembled. They were so close now, he felt them quiver against his own and ached to quell her nerves with a kiss. Take her mind away from the now, from the last several hours, and go back to the garage, go back to when it had just been the two of them, her hands in his hair, her body soft and pliant against his.
“And we’re all done.” The nurse tapped him on the shoulder. “You both did great. Don’t leave the cotton ball on for more than about twenty minutes, otherwise it’ll bruise.”
They still hadn’t broken eye contact, still hadn’t pulled away.
Aaron waited until he knew they were alone in the small bloodwork vestibule before he pulled his gaze away and helped her down off his lap.
He went to sit down in the other chair, but her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a hug, stopped him.
She pressed her face into his neck, hot tears dripping onto his skin. “Thank you.” The sound of soft sniffs muffled her words.
He wrapped his arms back around her waist, his body relaxing in her embrace. His nose brushed her hair, and he inhaled, shutting his eyes when the scent of her bodywash stirred something dangerous inside him.
“Ready to go?” Colton’s voice from around the corner had them both finally separating.
Isobel linked her hand with Aaron’s.
She didn’t want to let him go. He understood that. It was common after a trauma. He’d seen a lot of that during recovery missions. The hostage or victim became attached to whoever had rescued them, only feeling safe around that one person.
So why did he feel the same way about her, then? He didn’t want to let her go. Not now. Not ever.
Isobel felt disgusting.
Her clothes needed to be burned.
She also needed to go and buy a jumpsuit in every fucking color of the rainbow.
Had that been the only thing that had saved her from being raped? The fact that it was the Fort Knox of clothing? She needed to add more of those to her wardrobe. Maybe that’s all she should wear from now on.
A pain in the ass to take off when in a public bathroom but hard to get off in the event of a sexual assault.
Fuck, what a mess.
She peeled off her clothes, bra and underwear too and tossed them into a pile in the corner of her room. Maybe Aaron would let her have a trashcan fire in the backyard tomorrow. Purge her world of the memories of tonight. She’d have to see if Mercedes wanted to burn her clothes too.
She needed a long, hot shower. She needed to wash away the traces of the night. The smell of Vance’s grotesque cologne, the gin, the scent of their house of toxic masculinity. Shivering despite the warmth of the house, she grabbed her towel off the back of her door and wrapped it around herself.
Aaron was probably in bed by now, so she figured she could just duck across the hall to the bathroom wearing only a towel. He did it all the time. Why couldn’t she?
She opened her door and stepped out into the dark hallway.
Hand on the bathroom doorknob, she paused when she heard Aaron’s bedroom door open. Then there he stood, wearing nothing but a towel.