Page 133 of Lesson In Faith

Nodding, she wondered if she was as green as she felt. The room behind him was so much more than what Dinan had at his disposal, and was a league away from the medical office in the clubhouse.

Why the hell would anyone want toplayin a place like this?

“Look at me, Tamsyn. Eyes up here.”

She lifted her gaze to his face warily, fully expecting to feel the heavy weight of his dominance crushing her, but his green eyes were surprisingly soft.

“I’m gonna go in,” he told her quietly. “I’m not gonna drag you in with me, not gonna force you. This is a decision you have to make, whether you follow me in or not. Just know,” he added as a strange sense of guilt trickled through her, “I’m fucking proud of you getting this far. If this is all we manage tonight, so be it. There are other nights, little owl. We have time.”

Her eyes closed when he bent and kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her mouth. Even as she leaned toward him, he gently released her hand and stepped back, his warmth and the comfort of his body evaporating in a heartbeat.

When she opened her eyes again, she was all alone in the hallway with nothing but a few generic pictures on the walls and a small table topped with a vase of fake flowers for company.

Didn’t he know she was incapable of making decisions without intense and extensive deliberation? He’d be lucky if she made a choice by the end of the week; it probably wouldn’t be the one he was expecting either.

Shifting her weight from foot to foot, her eyes darted from one door to another.

What was she supposed to do now?

*

Merrick

It was a huge gamble, leaving her out there on her own.

Chances were she wouldn’t be there in a few minutes, and they’d have to do this all over again next week, the week after, so on and so forth. That was okay—he hadn’t lied when he told her he was proud of her for getting to this point, because she’d done it of her own volition.

Touching his finger to his lips before Fordham could speak, Merrick crossed over to the chair beside him and sat, listening intently for a clue as to what his little owl would do. His brain was logically inclined; she was afraid, she had triggers, and she didn’t have anyone nudging her to do what shereallydidn’t want to do.

His heart hoped she’d trust him enough to take the next baby step by herself.

Slouched comfortably in his chair, one boot propped on his opposite knee and his phone in his hand, Fordham raised a dark eyebrow and whispered, “Was that a smart move?”

“It was the only move,” Merrick whispered back.

Two minutes passed, five. Seven, then ten.

Hope was beginning to dwindle when he saw movement in the doorway, just a flash of rich, dark brown hair and pale skin, followed by a pair of haunted eyes peeking into the room. Her expression was terrified horror, a unique blend of fear he hated seeing in her eyes.

Come on, little owl. Be brave. Be my brave girl and come to me.

Merrick tamped down the urge to lean forward; any movement on his or Fordham’s part now would send her running. He schooled his breathing into shallow, even intakes, prepared to tear after her if she lost her shit and took off.

He doubted very much that the community doctor had something of this caliber at his disposal—the equipment, from the state of the art gynecological table to the specialist workstations, trolleys, stool, cost more than he wanted to know. Throw in the added attention to details like the ultrasound and colposcope, and Serenity’s medplay room was probably the most high-tech facility—for fantasy or reality—in the entire state.

When Evander went the whole hog, he included the entire family.

A sneakered foot slid tentatively over the threshold. The rest of her followed slowly, as though she was anticipating being grabbed and hauled inside. Keeping her back to the wall, she averted her eyes so she stared at the floor. “Merk?”

“It’s adorable when she calls you that,” Ford murmured.

He agreed with a quiet grunt. That word would forever be his link to the memory of her finding her voice again, of her emerging from the safety of her silence.

To the memory of her choosing him as herthe one.

“Here, darlin’.” His voice startled her, proving how on edge she was in here. “Doing so well, Tamsyn. So well,” he repeated, adding pride to the dominance in his tone so the two words almost became a purr. “Gonna ask you to come to me now. Cross the room, one step at a time, and take my hand.”

A strong shiver of revulsion ripped through her; she pressed the back of her hand to her mouth as her stomach heaved. She was quivering, cowering against the wall as though it might save her. “I-I don’t like it in here.”

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