Page 9 of Under Control

Nodding at the house coming closer into view, he replied, “Let’s talk in there.”

It was a beautiful million-dollar home among a stretch of them in the urban neighborhood. However, what wasn’t immediately obvious was the fact that the home was divided into several separate rental apartments and none were all that luxurious inside. The rent was astronomical, and the finishes were dated, but the setup capitalized on young professionals who were trying to find their way in the world.

Danica and her roommate Addie were young women who couldn’t afford to buy houses and cars, so they’d opted to live urban, close to transit. A nature lover, Danica didn’t mind being without a vehicle and spent much of her time walking. There were worst places to be forced into that situation than San Francisco. There was something that had always been so appealing about being on her own two feet, grounded and steady. She felt the earth below her, making her feel safe, as though in an instant she could escape to wherever she needed to go.

And not having a driver’s license kept her safely off the grid.

The armored SUV rolled quietly to a stop on the side of the street, about five houses down from her apartment. The driver turned off the engine and lights, staying still while watching the dark, silent neighborhood. Wasting no time, Carrick held on to Danica’s hand and slid her across the leather SUV back seat behind him. The way he moved her body was unapologetic and determined—and again, she let him.

She followed him like she’d never followed anyone before, secretly enjoying how he reached across her body to grab her discarded thick gray sweater, throwing it over his shoulder.

Once he had slid them out of the back seat, Carrick reached down and picked her up in his strong arms—without asking. He acted like her socked feet were never going to touch the ground on his watch. Like a guardian, he looked around, holding her tight against his hard chest, carrying her like a princess. Danica gasped, realizing that the man really did what he wanted, and now he was doing something he really didn’t have to do.

“You don’t…” she sputtered as Carrick carried her down the sidewalk.

“Yes, I do,” he said, tightening his grip.

As she let herself relax into his arms, a screaming voice at the back of Danica’s head reminded her to ignore how good it felt. She needed to reject her desire to curl up and sink into the protection he was offering.

There is always a catch.

Finally, Carrick stopped in front of her apartment, seeming to take a second to assess the brownstone before them. Once he was seemingly satisfied, he grunted, “Got your keys?”

He waltzed them up the five-step porch staircase while she fumbled for her keys in her pocket. As soon as she had them out, he took them, as natural as could be. With one arm, he unlocked the exterior door like he’d lived there for years, moving them into the small foyer that had three more doors for different apartments.

“Now, let’s talk,” he said, putting her down, briefly gazing up at the large painting hanging in the foyer.

She found the dated, packed carpet underneath her, grounding her back in the reality of her life. She backed up, trying to understand him.

“You said you are here to help me. What does that mean?” she asked, knowing it was now or never.

“Well, Dani, I was asked to come find you,” he explained, his eyes locked on her every move, sending chills up her spine, “and I have.”

“And?” She crossed her arms, sinking back, determined to stay strong. “Who asked you to do this?”

“Your father.”

Danica’s mouth dropped open.

“Have you told him where I am?” She couldn’t hold back the tone of desperation and fear in her voice.

The pure terror.

“Yes.”

Winded, she took a step back, falling into anything that could help her find stability. She searched the man before her, trying to figure out what the hell his game was.

“Are you scared of him?” Carrick asked, watching her as she stepped farther away from him. “Will he hurt you?”

She bit her lip, unable to resist doing so. That was not something she was prepared to admit to. Her heart sank with the reality she faced and the need to uproot herself yet again. She dropped her gaze and shook her head. How many new identities would she have to fake before she could finally just get away?

“Talk to me,” Carrick commanded. There was nothing soft in his voice.

But Danica didn’t want to tell him anything.

“Are you going to leave me?” She regretted the words as she said them, and immediately felt the pain of being exposed.

“Only if you are safe,” he assured, but then demanded more from her. “You need to tell me— Are you scared ofhim?”

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