But even knowing he carried around a shit-ton of baggage, Levi still couldn’t bring himself to let Sarah go. And he wasn’t prepared to think about her leaving him until the time came and he was forced to do so.
“I’m ready,” Sarah said as she came back into the kitchen. She took one look at his face, and worry creased her brows. “Is everything okay?”
God, she was already so tuned in to his moods, when he was normally very adept at keeping his emotions under wraps. “I’m good,” he lied, wanting to leave the past where it belonged. He picked up his truck keys and gave her a smile. “Let’s get you home.”
A few minutes later, they were in his vehicle and had just turned out of his neighborhood when he cast a quick glance across the cab at her. “Which direction to your place?”
She fidgeted in her seat and wouldn’t look at him. “Umm, you can just drop me off at the store.”
He wasn’t surprised that Sarah was insisting he leave her at the Circle K where he’d picked her up a couple of hours ago, but the night that he’d gotten shot, as a cop he’d noticed something before heading into the store. There had been no other cars parked anywhere near or around the mart, and with only Sarah working, he remembered wondering where her vehicle was. And then everything had escalated so quickly with the robbery, and that thought had been the last thing on his mind.
But now, he wasn’t about to take her in that direction until she assured him of a few things first. “Do you have a car there?”
She hesitated, and even though he suspected her answer, he pushed for it. “Sarah, answer me.”
She glanced out the passenger window. “No, I don’t have a car, but a friend is going to pick me up.”
The words came out of her in a rush—the same exact excuse she’d given Clay that night at the hospital when he’d offered her a ride home. Had she made even the slightest effort to look him in the eyes, Levi might have believed her about the friend. But he’d been a cop long enough to recognize the signs that she wasn’t being truthful—her delayed responses, the fact that she’d yet to meet his gaze, the unsteady tone of her voice—all instinctively told him that she was hiding something. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten that impression, and he was betting that whatever secrets she was keeping all tied into her less-than-desirable job that undoubtedly only paid minimum wage, her insistence that she was leaving the city soon, and now, her issue with him driving her directly home.
“I’ll give my friend a call as soon as I’m at the mart, so you don’t have to wait around,” she told him as she clasped and unclasped her hands in her lap in a nervous gesture.
“Don’t,” he said, and while his voice was soft, there was no mistaking the warning in his tone.
Finally, she glanced at him, her body language and the wide-eyed look in her gaze filled with distinct wariness. “Don’t what?”
Fuck. He gripped the steering wheel hard. With his patience hanging by a thin thread, he found a legal parking spot on the street and pulled over to the curb. He put the truck into park and turned his entire body toward her, trying to keep his frustration at a manageable level.
“Don’t lie to me, Sarah. Ever,” he said gruffly, wanting her to trust him with whatever was going on in her life. “Starting right now with the answer to my question. How do you get to work every day and home every night?”
Those full lips he’d ravished not so long ago pursed ever so slightly, and she looked him directly in his eyes. “I take the bus.” She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”
It was a big fucking deal to him when she was being dropped off at a bus stop in a shitty part of town and still had to walk to the store or wherever the hell she lived.
“I’m taking you home, because I’m not letting you get on a goddamn bus this late at night.” It drove him crazy to think she took public transportation all alone after midnight and anything could happen to her. “Give me your address.”
She shook her head, her expression obstinate. “No. I’ve been on my own a long time and I can take care of myself.”
He knew that was true based on what she’d shared with him earlier, but he couldn’t deny the protective instincts she stirred in him. Being in law enforcement, it was his duty to defend people, but he’d never been one to get involved in a woman’s life who he was dating, or dictate the things she did. Again, Sarah was quickly becoming the exception to every goddamn rule he’d set for himself.
“This isn’t a choice, Sarah,” he said, knowing he was far more stubborn and tenacious than she could ever be, and he wasn’t backing down. “I want to make sure that you get home safely, so this isn’t going to happen any other way. Where do you live?”
She glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “You want to know where I live?” She asked the question like a dare. “Fine. Let me show you.”
She gave him an address in Englewood that he calmly punched into his navigation system, even as he was silently thinking in his head, Jesus fucking Christ. Levi knew the general area was a wasteland for all levels of crime, and it was no place for a single, vulnerable woman to live.
As he started driving again, Sarah opted to remain quiet and kept her gaze averted. Yeah, she was pissed at him for being so pushy, but when it came to her well-being, he didn’t give a rat’s ass. Her welfare was his main concern and priority.
He followed the directions on his GPS as the little arrow took them through a low-income, gang-infested area and brought them closer and closer to their destination. A block away from the address, Levi stopped at a red light and glanced through the windshield to see what was up ahead on the right-hand side. A sickening sensation swirled in the pit of his stomach when he caught sight of the two-story Sleepy Time Motel and the brightly lit VACANCY sign. Illuminated below that was the draw for any prostitute, drug addict, and other unsavory activities: Hourly rates available.
No fucking way. He’d busted a few drug dealers and hookers at this run-down location, and Jesus Christ, he wanted to believe there was some kind of mistake with the address, but when the light turned green and he started driving forward, it was Sarah who confirmed his worst fears.
“You can drop me off at the curb in front of the motel,” she said quietly. “I can walk to my room from there.”
He gave her a quick, incredulous glance, trying like hell to remain calm and level-headed when his entire body vibrated with anger—not at Sarah but the situation.
“That’s not a fucking option,” he said, his tone uncompromising as he turned the truck into the driveway of the motel. He wasn’t letting her out of his sight until she was locked in her room, and even then he didn’t know if he could truly drive away and leave her alone. “Where is your room?”
“Around back. Lower level. Room 116,” she said in a reluctant voice so low he could barely hear her.
As he drove through the parking lot, he had to physically swallow back the bile rising in his throat as he thought about someone as defenseless as Sarah living in this dangerous environment every single day. On top of that, this fucking dump of a place was an inescapable reminder of all the times his mother had forced him to witness her own disgusting and despicable lifestyle—turning tricks for cash, which she would then turn around and hand over to the closest drug dealer for a fix instead of feeding the hungry five-year-old boy she’d brought with her. He’d be close by while she did revolting things to strangers, and she’d threatened him to be quiet, to never tell his brothers or else he’d be taken away.
Yeah, great fucking memories there.
He made his way around to the back of the dimly lit motel and pulled his vehicle into a parking spot. He cut the engine and turned toward Sarah, grabbing her wrist just as she tried to unbuckle her seat belt. She glanced at him sharply, and there was just enough illumination in the cab for him to see her flushed face and how angry she was . . . on the outside. But beneath that fuming emotion, he saw the real truth in her eyes that reflected shame and humiliation.
He swore beneath his breath. “What the hell, Sarah? Why are you living here?”
“It’s all I can afford,” she said, her chin lifting willfully. “I’m just trying to get through a few more weeks until I have enough money to leave. And it’s better than living on the streets.”
As much as he admired her strength and fortitude, it killed him inside to know this is what she came home to every night. And for some reason, she obviously didn’t have anyone else she could turn to. Certainly no family to speak of. “Let me help you, Sarah. If you need money or—”
“No.” She cut him off and pulled her hand from his grasp. “I don’t need any handouts or you feeling sorry for me. I’ve been in worse situations than this, and I’ve been absolutely fine staying here.”
She unbuckled her seat belt, and short of cuffing her—which he seriously considered—he knew there was no stopping Sarah from getting out of the vehicle. He quickly reached into the glove box and retrieved his service revolver, which he’d placed in there earlier before picking her up at the store. He never went far without his weapon and normally had it holstered at his side beneath his shirt, but he hadn’t wanted to freak her out if she touched it while he was kissing her—because yeah, he’d known that first kiss in his kitchen was going to happen.
Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the gun, and when her gaze lifted to his, he pinned her with a firm look. “Keep your ass right where it is until I come around and get you,” he said, not missing the annoyance that flashed in her eyes.
Satisfied that she wasn’t going to argue or defy him, even if she didn’t care for his order, he got out of his side of the truck, his gaze automatically scanning his surroundings as he tucked his weapon into the back waistband of his jeans. There was no one in this back area at the moment, but the parking lot and around his vehicle was littered with condom wrappers, used syringes, and drug paraphernalia.
Fucking great.
By the time Levi reached the passenger side and helped her out, he was silently seething—again, because of Sarah’s predicament and her stubborn refusal to accept any help. Keeping a hand on the base of her spine and her stiff, tension-filled body tucked close, he let her lead the way to her room. He stood behind her as she retrieved a keycard and swiped it, then opened the door and stepped inside.
Before he had a chance to follow, a soft, horrified cry escaped her, and she suddenly moved in reverse until her backside collided against the front of his body. He caught her by the upper arms to steady her, but he felt her trembling. One glance over her shoulder into the room, which was illuminated by the dim lamp on the nightstand, and he realized why. The place had been completely ransacked—the mattress had been pulled from the box spring, pillows had been ripped open, and the dresser drawers were open haphazardly and had been rifled through.
Reacting quickly and instinctively, Levi pushed Sarah back against the wall by the door and withdrew his gun. The room was small, without many places for a perp to hide, and it took him less than a minute to check the tiny closet, then do a sweep of the compact bathroom. Someone had removed the lid from the toilet, and he noticed that the window had been busted open. The frame was big enough for someone to climb through, and Levi suspected that it had most likely been a random burglary. That someone had known she was out for the evening and broken in with hopes of finding cash or something of value.
But as he walked back into the bedroom, it was clear that Sarah didn’t have much, let alone something of financial worth. She’d told him that things had been rough for a while, but this . . . this was near destitute. There were only a few clothes hanging in the closet, and the drawers contained bare necessities. Even the food tossed onto the floor was basic and cheap—and reminded him of the kind of groceries Clay had bought for him and Mason to fill their hungry bellies: ramen, oatmeal, off-brand granola bars, and peanut butter. Fuck.
He made his way back to Sarah, and since there was no imminent threat, he returned his weapon to the waistband of his jeans. Her face was pale, she was visibly shaking, and she looked at him with legitimate fear in her tear-filled eyes.
“They . . . they took the . . . TV and microwave,” she stuttered out, clearly in shock.
Levi didn’t give a shit about any of that, and tomorrow he’d deal with reporting the break-in and robbery to the manager of the motel. Right now, his only concern was getting Sarah out of this fucking hellhole once and for all.
Chapter Seven
Levi couldn’t sleep. Not a big surprise considering everything that had happened this evening. He tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the shadows flitting across the ceiling, his mind jam-packed with so many thoughts it was difficult to process them all. But there was at least one thing he didn’t have to worry about any longer, and that was knowing Sarah was safe—in his house and sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms down the hall. Thank God.
He’d been so damned relieved she hadn’t argued with him when he’d ordered her to pack up her belongings, all of them, because she wouldn’t be returning. Then again, she’d been in a traumatized state, moving around the room as if she were operating on autopilot. All of her clothes and personal items had fit into a regular-sized backpack, a thought that pained him. And when she’d gone into the bathroom and seen the lid off the toilet, she’d spiraled into total panic—and he’d had no clue why.
Her breathing had escalated, her body shook, and huge tears welled in her eyes as she murmured, “No, no, no,” over and over again, until he finally grabbed her arms and demanded to know what was wrong.
With a huge, defeated sob, she’d told him she’d had a little over three hundred dollars she’d kept in a Ziploc bag in the tank for safe-keeping. It was all the cash she had to her name, gone now, most likely in the hands of some junkie who was wise to that particular trick. He’d taken her into his arms and promised everything would be okay, and even now, he swore it would be . . . if she’d just let him help her.
But now that the crisis was over, Levi couldn’t help but analyze Sarah’s situation. He tried to take all he knew about her dire circumstances and put them all together like pieces of a puzzle to form a complete story. All those scenarios didn’t make for a pretty picture: the minimal way she’d lived, the job she worked, the type of food she’d bought, her meager belongings, and even how she’d hidden all her cash because she didn’t have a bank account—they were a perfect setup for someone to pick up and disappear at a moment’s notice. If he was a gambling man, he’d bet everything he owned that she was running from someone or something.
He’d considered pressing her for answers once he’d gotten her home, but her anxiety level was so high, her mood so agitated, he’d made her take a warm shower, then drink a glass of wine, before putting her in the guest bed down the hall from his.
And when she’d looked up at him with blue eyes that were so sad and lost and whispered, “I’m so sorry,” for something that wasn’t even her fault, he’d felt his heart twist hard and sharp in his chest. He’d slid into bed beside her, taken her into his arms, and held her tight. Returning to his own room hadn’t been easy.
Now that he was calmer and more rational, he realized that forcing her to explain her situation, all of it, would be the quickest way to push her away. If he’d learned anything about Sarah, it was that she had a lot of pride and didn’t like to rely on anyone for anything. Once she woke up and realized she was at his mercy with nowhere to go, she’d be defensive and wary. He needed to back off, not push harder.
It went against every one of his instincts as both a man and a cop to back down, but that same intuition told him to tread slowly and carefully or she’d run from him, too. The best he could do was to keep her safe and protected, without any demands, and hopefully she’d come around and trust him with the real truth.
The sound of soft footsteps padding down the hall pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced toward his open bedroom door just as Sarah’s slender figure appeared in the frame.
Concerned, he moved off the bed and went to her. “Hey,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. “Is everything okay?”
Moonlight streamed through the uncovered window, lighting the delicate angles of her face, and the anguish in her eyes sliced right through him, sharp as a knife.
“Yes . . . no.” Her voice was small, her expression uncertain as she shifted anxiously on her bare feet before saying more. “I don’t want to be by myself tonight. Can I sleep in here with you?”
Refusing her didn’t even cross his mind. In fact, he’d sleep better knowing she was right beside him, where he could keep an eye on her and see for himself at any given moment that she was resting peacefully.
“Of course you can stay with me,” he said, and with her hand still clasped in his, he led her to the other side of the bed.
He pulled back the covers, watching as she crawled onto the mattress wearing a threadbare tank top and equally old and worn sleep shorts. Clearly, her pajamas had seen better days, and the thin material did little to conceal her small, firm breasts and the too slender curve of her hips and ass.
Having her in his bed tonight wasn’t about sex, but that didn’t stop his dick from sitting up and taking notice of her tight nipples and those smooth legs he’d love to feel wrapped around his waist as he plowed deep inside of her.
He swallowed back a groan before it could slip from his throat and beat back the provocative thoughts that would only lead to a hard-on and a restless night’s sleep. Once she was settled beneath the comforter, he walked around to his side of the bed and rolled to his side. Their heads were on separate pillows, but they were facing one another, less than a foot of space between them.
“I really am sorry, Levi,” she said quietly, though he could still hear the wealth of regret in her voice. “I keep causing you a lot of trouble.”
Dirty Sexy Cuffed (Dirty Sexy #3) Page 8