Page 7 of Brave
Coming from Luís, that actually struck Carlson’s caution bone. And still he persisted, slipping through the door into the Psychic Shop, dark and closed though it appeared just like all the other stores along this street.
He wished he’d thought to grab his coat. Although not as cold as the world outside, the area behind the door had a definite chill. When he reached the locked security door, a monitor on the wall showed four different angles up and down the sidewalk directly outside the security door. The area outside was well-lit, just in case someone with thoughts of larceny or worse decided this might be a good place to jump members preoccupied with either coming or going. It was a relatively new security measure, thoroughly appreciated by the female members. Carlson liked it because it let him see without needing to open the door that not only were there two pedestrians currently walking down the street opposite of the secret entrance, but also that Puppy was bent over in the shadows just behind the stairs. She didn’t seem to be hiding. From the look of her, she was either throwing up, fighting not to throw up, or had just lost that fight and was now scrubbing her wrist over her mouth and crying.
Carlson’s hand was on the latch before he knew what he was doing and before he could soften his exit in a way least likely to startle the already skittish woman, he was shouldering his way out onto the steps. She jerked upright with a gasp and they stared at one another.
She had doe eyes, soft and brown and terribly frightened.
“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately stepping back and holding his hands up in surrender to make himself as non-threatening as possible. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
The dark lines of her eyebrows buckled slightly, but she backed up a step anyway. Wiping her mouth again, she said nothing.
At least she didn’t run away. Carlson accepted that as a positive sign. “Are you okay?”
Her exhaling puff actually steamed the air, although the wind immediately swept it away. It also cut right through the heavy shirt Carlson was wearing, stinging his skin. She shivered as she said, “It left me here.”
“Left you?”
“The cab,” she said, her tone low and defeated. “I asked it to wait, but it left.”
Ah. Carlson swept his gaze up and down the near empty street, lit at evenly spaced intervals by the amber of the streetlamps. Sure enough, no cabs. In D.C., however, something was always open. Getting one to come back wouldn’t be a hardship.
“Come on.” He beckoned to her. “Come inside where it’s warm. We’ll call you another to take you home.”
“I-I’m okay,” she said, but that was a lie if he’d ever heard one. She was shivering, hugging her arms to her chest, her thin short-sleeved t-shirt doing nothing at all to either protect her from the night air or hide the goosebumps now peppering her skin. It was right there on the tip of his tongue to call her on it too, but he quickly put a muzzle on that dominant asshole tendency.
“It’s warmer inside,” he coaxed instead. “You don’t have to freeze. I promise, you’re perfectly safe. Come on.”
He beckoned again, but she retreated another step. Hugging herself, she looked up one end of the street and then down it the other way. Her mouth flattened. Her dark eyes worried.
Softening his tone, he held out his hand. “Please come inside.”
“Just inside the door,” she finally agreed, teeth chattering.
“If that’s where you want to wait,” he agreed, “at least it’ll be out of the wind.”
She checked up and down the street one more time, but seeing no cab, came out of the shadows and hesitantly climbed the steps. She hugged herself so she wouldn’t have to take his hand. Anyone else would be rubbing the warmth back into their arms, but she didn’t. She held herself straight and still, and as soon as she was inside, huddled in as small a space as any person could take up, shooting him glances out of the corner of her eyes not just as if she were waiting for him to do something awful, but expecting it.
“I’m Carlson Garvey,” he introduced again, offering her his hand to shake.
She looked at it for almost eight seconds—he knew, because he was counting. Very hesitantly, she finally accepted it.
“Puppy, was it? That’s different. I like it.”
She held her icy hand tense in his while he waited to see if she would shake or snatch it back again. When she only stood there, he gave her cold fingers a gentle squeeze and released her.
“I’m going to have to go back down the tunnel to the security desk to call a cab. Now,” he cautioned, and although he was doing his best not to be that asshole—that one Dominant in every group that just couldn’t help but issue orders to a submissive that wasn’t his—he wasn’t entirely successful at keeping the bossiness out of his tone when he asked, “if I do that, are you going to stay right here where it’s warm, or are you going to immediately duck back outside again? Because the look on your face says you are one sharp word or sound away from bolting. And I’d really rather you not freeze half to death waiting for your ride to get here.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I’ll stay here.”
He was pretty sure she was lying, but he went ahead and left her there. Hurrying back to where Luís was stationed, he asked, “Can I borrow your coat?”
Blinking, he thumbed over his shoulder to the tunnel. “It’s in my locker. What happened to your coat?”
“I’ll let her wear it while we wait, but I’d rather not freeze too. How about a cab, can you call one?”
“Sure. For you or Puppy?”
“Puppy,” Carlson said. “Apparently, she had one waiting for her, but it left.”
