Held

by T K Barber

  “What you got? It better be good.” He rolled his shoulder and scowled. The man cleared his throat.

  “We had Arlo watch her like you asked. You're gonna wanna hear it for yourself.”

  Steven frowned. “Alright, let's go.”

  Scarlet

  After another minute, Nick loosened his hold, and Scarlet pulled back. She wiped at her face, hopefully cleaning away the evidence that her mascara was no longer on her lashes. Just fantastic. She got to see him again, and her makeup was all smeary. He gently stayed her hands, and she looked at him, still between his knees where they had fallen, his face inches from hers.

  Her breath caught when faced with the depth of compassion swimming behind his hazel eyes, and she almost started crying again. Instead, she cleared her throat and glanced down at her lap.

  “You know, if you'd just give me your number, we could avoid this whole 'saving me from the clutches of evil’ thing we've apparently got going.”

  For the second time since seeing him again, she was graced with the warm, thick sound of his laugh and it made her illogically happy. She turned her eyes back up to his face and smiled with him, watching the corners of his eyes crinkle. His laughter died down, and he cleared his throat, catching her gaze.

  “You know that wasn’t your fault, right? He’s a sick, angry man who made a horrible decision to attack you. I’m just . . .” He reached out his hand to her cheek and smoothed his thumb across it. “God, so sorry.” He swallowed and dropped his hand, moving his gaze to the pavement.

  She nodded and managed a smile, as her heart swelled a little more. “I know. Thank you.” Thank God Steven hadn’t actually gone through with it. Even though she was calmer now, she might not have ever recovered. He smiled and stood up, careful not to jostle her, then he held out his hand.

  “Can't stay down there forever. Got a way home?”

  Home? Sleep? Alone? Tonight? Not likely. Maybe not ever again. Maybe Katelyn and John would let her move into their basement.

  She refused his hand and shook her head. She could get up on her own just fine, thank you. Lip locked under her teeth, she rose shakily to her feet. On her own. She winced and attempted to hold several aching places at once but failed and stumbled forward a step before steadying herself. Then she thrust up her chin defiantly, lightening the mood.

  “See? No problem.”

  His expression darkened, and he closed the distance between them in one step.

  “He hurt you.”

  She figured he meant the obvious, oozing gash on her knee, but instead his hand tilted her head to the side with a gentle movement. Her skin tingled and her stomach flipped. He brushed under the small bite mark and frowned. It must have been more noticeable than she thought, even in the dark. She was watching his expression when he locked eyes with her. Her heart rate spiked, but she regained her composure when his hand fell away. Mostly. She scoffed, her irritation coming through now, replacing the sorrow.

  “Yeah. Yeah, he did. Two times. Well, three if you count being slammed against the wall making my shoulder hurt.”

  She looked down at her stinging, bloody knee and winced. It was a tad worse than a scrape.

  “That. Does not feel good.”

  He followed her line of sight and let out a low, almost inaudible growl, then rubbed his hand down his face. He struggled with something, but eventually sighed and shook his head.

  “Come on. They have what you need.”

  He gestured to the little grocery store she was planning on being her savior, and she hobbled forward. She followed him, noticing how shiny his thick black hair looked when they went under the harsh light of the “Baker's Buys” sign. And lost in thought about how good it was to be in his arms like that. How natural.

  He went straight to the first aid aisle like he'd been there a hundred times and quickly grabbed three things: antiseptic with pain relief, an ace bandage, and gauze.

  She secretly smiled as she followed him to the rear of the store. He was acting like she'd never taken care of an injury before. How cute. He pointed to one of four worn blue waiting room style chairs like he was directing traffic. She smiled wider and sat, fighting a groan. She held out her hand, so she could get started, but he didn’t move.

  “What? Are you going to do it all for me?” She winked, causing him to blink at her, still motionless. “You’re going to spoil me if you do that.”

  A slow grin spread across his face. He cleared his throat as he shrugged and knelt in front of her. Apparently, he was. She pursed her lips, then smiled. She had nooo problem with that.

  He sucked in a sharp breath and scowled as he picked a piece of concrete out of her skin. His frown lines deepened, jaw muscles straining with focus, and she smiled again. The sight of him taking care of her leg was almost enough to make her forget the pain. Almost.

  “Aye! Woo. Maybe we leave that piece in until I can get some tweezers? Or, until forever 'cause that hurts like crazy?”

  He smiled through his scowl and shook his head.

  “Nah. It needs to come out, or it'll get infected.”

  She scoffed and tapped the top of his head. He shot a surprised look at her, and she pointed to one of the aisles.

  “Bet they have tweezers here. Just go grab a pair since you insist on playing doctor.”

  The implication of those last two words wasn’t lost on either of them, and Scarlet turned beat red as Nick chewed the inside of his mouth in an effort to not bust out laughing. He rubbed his hand down his face and eventually failed, barking out a single laugh before he shook his head.

  “You’re something else. And no, if you’ll sit still, I’ve almost got it.”

  She extra-fidgeted defiantly in her seat, and he laughed again, unable to wipe the smile off his face that time. Even though he tried.

  She continued to watch his frustration as the intruding piece of sidewalk kept escaping his fingers. She leaned back against the chair and closed her eyes as the toll of everything that happened began to sap her remaining strength.

  So much for being able to handle 'just dinner.' And she still didn’t even GET dinner. Now she was hungry on top of everything. She exhaled in an attempt at blowing out all her anxiety. He cleared his throat, fabric rustling as he shifted positions.

  “So. Was that your—”

  “Boyfriend?” Scarlet snorted. “Hell no.” He exhaled and she continued. “That was my attempt at not staying home all the time.” She shook her head, still looking at the backs of her eyelids. “Yet more proof that it's apparently too dangerous for me to leave the house. As if I needed any more of that.” She heard him laugh quietly and smiled to herself.

  “Nothing wrong with staying home,” he rumbled.

  Her eyes flew back open and stared at the ceiling as her heart skipped. His warm hand was gently holding the top part of her calf. She was momentarily scared, but then quickly beyond excited. Her Nick was touching her.

  Dear God, her leg was going to melt right off.

  She bit her bottom lip as heat spread right through her. She didn't dare move just in case that would make him retreat again.

  She cast her eyes down and his eyebrows pitched up in the center, completely at odds with the rapid rise and fall in his chest. She thrust her bottom lip up in thought as she watched him work. Finally, he succeeded in removing the sliver and she sucked in a breath as a small trickle of blood ran down.

  She didn't care.

  Not only was his hand still searing her skin, it had traveled just the tiniest bit further north. He focused on her leg and chewed the inside of his lip as his thumb wiped the blood away; the same motion he’d done on that very first night.

  Her breath stopped altogether when his fingers pressed into the flesh. Before she could get any more air, he cleared his throat and jerked his hand away, leaning back on his heels. She finally inhaled and closed her eyes again, long enough she didn't see what was coming.

  “Ahh! Sh
it! That stings!”

  The cold, wet drizzle of alcohol ran over her knee, and she sucked in a high-pitched squeak. When did he even get that?! She glared at him and was greeted with a small, one-sided grin beaming out from under his customary scowl as he studiously avoided eye contact.

  “Sorry,” he muttered, looking both sorry and not sorry. He chanced a quick glance up at her, and she caught his gaze. She shook her head and smiled at him.

  “No, you're not. Don't lie.”

  He chuckled, a low, rich sound, and refocused as he used a couple of pieces of gauze to wipe up the excess. He deposited them on the ever-growing pile of used medical supplies.

  “I can take it from here, you know. It's okay, really.”

  Still avoiding eye contact, he shook his head and reapplied his scowl while he smeared the antiseptic on an oversized piece of gauze. She chewed on her lip in thought as he folded it in half and pushed it against the cut. The pressure made her wrinkle her nose.

  “Hold this.”

  He cast his eyes up from his downturned face, and his cheek twitched as he caught her expression. She nodded and pressed her index finger in the center of the compress, watching him in amused awe.

  She still couldn’t believe he was there. Helping her. Saving her . . . again! If ever there was a guardian angel . . . He unwrapped the ace bandage and shot her an apologetic wince. She failed at not getting lost in the golden fleck in his left eye.

  “It has to be tight to help stop the blood. It won't feel great.”

  She shrugged.

  “It felt terrible; now it feels better. I can handle 'not great.'”

  She smiled at him. In a rare moment, his face relaxed, and he smiled back. No obvious internal pain. No inexplicable anger at whatever made him so upset all the time. No other hidden, terrible emotions. Just a smile. And it stopped her heart again. It was so adorable, handsome, sexy, and any other complimentary word you could throw at it, and she wanted to look at it all day.

  He must have realized he’d let his guard down because his smile vanished, and he scooted closer to her leg. She frowned. The room got colder in its absence, and she already missed it.

  “Ready?”

  She wasn't sure what to say, so she just stared at him. Besides, if she opened her mouth, who knows what might have come out. He wound the bandage, slow at first, looking transfixed with the motion. He moved her finger when he got to it, and the spark when they touched made her stomach flutter.

  She didn't notice any pain, focused on the way his fingers brushed against her leg with each movement, leaving flame trails. She knew for a fact it was happening far more than necessary, but she was in NO way complaining.

  Was it affecting him too? Probably just her wishful imagination. He clenched his jaw as he hooked the little metal closure into the ends and launched himself to his feet. Then he bent and grabbed all the discarded and unused materials and headed to the register without another word.

  She sat in mild confusion before she slowly rose to her feet and wrinkled her nose again in anticipation. It was probably going to hurt, and she was a little tired of pain. She shifted her weight and flinched. But it was fine. Great even. It barely hurt at all.

  Her face relaxed, and she smiled. There must have been some serious pain killer in that antiseptic. Or she was high on pheromones. Probably both.

  Clutch in hand, she followed his path to the front. He had just finished paying and held out the small, white plastic bag to her at arm’s length. She looked at it for a moment, then grinned widely at him. Did he even realize?

  He cocked his head to the side for a brief second and then grinned as well. He walked right up to her and gently picked up her wrist. Just like last time, his touch sent crazy shocks through her. And just like last time he pressed the handles of the bag into her palm. She reached up and nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear twice.

  “Thank you, Nick.”

  He smiled and nodded before slowly releasing her wrist and gesturing to the door.

  “You're welcome.”

  Annalise

  Thomas scowled at the wall as he gnawed off a bite of his turkey and cheese sandwich and chewed it with big motions. Large, glaring beams of light from the dock cast shadows around the bars of the windows, making his dirty blonde hair look darker than normal.

  This was the first time she’d seen those, and the first time he’d ever been here at night. Such a wonderful change in routine. If only he could stay.

  “Anna, I overheard the boy's talkin' today.”

  “What about?”

  She only asked out of conversational courtesy. There was really only one thing it could have been if it had him that worked up. He swallowed and cut his eyes to her.

  “‘Bout you. I'm worried.” He flicked a crumb off the bed and sighed. “Think he might be planning on, well . . . killing you soon. Real soon.”

  He took another big bite and frowned, like that wasn’t utterly terrifying. Probably wasn’t in his line of work.

  Annalise swallowed down a scared lump and applied her ‘unaffected’ face again. Maybe she could still convince him to break her out? Her heart twisted in her chest at the thought of both leaving him behind, and possibly getting him hurt – or worse. So, she’d just . . . not be killed. Easy . . .

  He continued his exaggerated chewing, and she couldn’t help her one-sided smile. So far, she hadn't seen anything that kept him away from his appetite. That man could seriously put away some food. He was on his third sandwich already, and his flawlessly fit body meant his metabolism must have been insane.

  The daydream of what he looked like without a shirt on came skyrocketing back to the forefront for the billionth time, but she cleared her head with a smile. This was the second time this week they'd let him bring the food, and she was thrilled. Made the pain suck less. Of course, now it caused a different pain when he left.

  She shrugged and wiped her mouth with her hand, careful to avoid the fresh split. Her balled up sandwich wrapper hit the bottom of the brown paper sack, and she brushed off her hands.

  “The only reason that would worry me is if it meant something happened to Nick. I told you before; I think my staying alive is selfish.”

  He rolled his eyes and slapped his sandwich down in exasperation which made her jump and flinch. His eyes went wide, and he pinched his eyebrows up in the middle as he slapped his hands over his mouth. He mumbled through his fingers as he winced.

  “Aw man, I'm sorry!”

  She shook her head and threw out a joke in an attempt to calm her reactive heart.

  “It's okay.” Unaffected, unaffected. “It's a force of habit at this point.” She shrugged and smiled.

  He frowned as he leaned over, tenderly cupping her cheeks and smoothing his thumbs across them.

  “God, I wish I could get you outta here! It just . . . it makes me so mad when you talk about offing yourself. You're pretty important to me.” He stroked the back of her jaw on each side with his fingers and copped a sad smile. “ ‘Case you didn’t know.”

  He spoke quietly and reverently as he gazed into her eyes, causing a flutter in her heart.

  “I'd spend all my time tryna make you forget all this, Anna. Make you feel safe again, you know?”

  He rubbed his thumb affectionately over her eyebrow, and she pulled him into a soft kiss with the uninjured side of her mouth. He placed a tiny kiss on the other corner of her mouth too.

  “Well, all the time I wasn't workin'.”

  He puffed up his chest and gave her a smug smile with his cute, crooked eyebrow cocked up.

  “Coffee and scones don't make themselves!”

  Her brows jumped as she laughed and shoved him back an inch before she leaned against his chest. She was greeted again by the sound of his strong heartbeat, which quickened under her head.

  If she could record that and play it on loop while he was gone, that would be a whole lot better than the nothing
, or the stupid gulls. Not to mention it was, you know, his heartbeat.

  “Scones, huh? Can you make scones? What even IS a scone?”

  He shrugged and put his arm around her shoulder tenderly. “Don't know, and don't know how, but I'd learn.” He took a sharp breath, and she glanced up at him only to be greeted by his wide eyes and raised brows.

  “Hey, remember that one episode of 'Eat The Street' where they tried to teach that regular John to make those . . .” He scrunched up one side of his face and tilted his head. “Whaddya call 'em?”

  Annalise smiled at him. “Tortes.”

  “Yeah!” He said, snapping his fingers at the same time. “Those!” He glanced down at her up turned face and winked, making her heart skip. “And he didn't wanna, and the host guy was like 'Don't you wanna make something homemade?' And the other guy was like 'If I have to stir it, it's homemade!'.”

  He snorted, and she laughed. He was so animated and cute when he thought something was funny.

  “That one was on last night. That guy. I couldn’t wait to tell you about it.” He grinned down at her again. “Anyway, it'd give me a good use for these mitts, huh?”

  He held up his hands and waggled his fingers, the ones on his draped arm wiggling close to her face. She smiled and tucked her chin against his chest.

  “I think they're pretty useful.”

  He chuckled a warm tenor sound that vibrated his chest. “S'that right? And how'd you know anything about that?”

  She knew what he was getting at, but she meant something much more meaningful. Even though she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t had more than a couple of hundred fantasies so far.

  She thumped him on the stomach, and he laughed. “Ha. Ha. Not like that. But . . . they hold me. They help me feel just a tiny bit safer when they're holding mine. Sometimes they make my skin tingle, which is a nice break from the pain.”

  He gently leaned her back up. She liked the way he watched her mouth move sometimes.

  “They bring me food.”

  He smiled sweetly at her and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, his throat bobbing. “Sometimes they even help clean, or take care of, whatever the hell he did to me last.”