Page 45 of Some Saviors Can Break You

It had been a long day.

She had sat on Eli’s lap until the paramedics arrived. Both Eli and the medics thwarted her protests that a trip to the hospital wasn't necessary, so she’d gone there, endured tests, been poked and prodded, and then eventually released. Eli had driven her home, but now that they were here, she had the monumental task of making it from the street up to her fifth-floor apartment to conquer.

“You know I could just carry you,” Eli said. His arm was wrapped around her waist, and although he was practically supporting most of her weight anyway, she shook her head.

“No, I can do it.” Being helpless was not a feeling with which she was familiar, and it made her uncomfortable. She was going to walk to the lift, stand in it, and then walk to her front door if it killed her.

“You know you have a concussion, you’re supposed to be taking it easy,” he reminded her as he opened the door to her building and helped her walk through it.

“And I will once we get upstairs,” she said, gritting her teeth and plowing forward. Giving up was not in her vocabulary.

“You call me cocky, I'm going to start calling you stubborn,” Eli muttered under his breath, but she heard the humor in his tone and knew he was just teasing her.

Although it sometimes drove her crazy, Florence secretly liked it when he teased her. Growing up, she and Fletcher were more concerned with trying to stay alive, finding food to eat and clothes to wear, than teasing one another. Even though they were adults now and both had jobs that paid the bills, they didn't have the traditional sibling relationship. But Eli’s teasing made her feel a levity that hadn't been a part of her life before.

Her legs felt heavy, and her head hadn't stopped drumming with a steady beat that seemed to send pain reverberating through her body, preventing her from thinking about anything but putting one foot in front of the other.

They made it all the way into the lift before Eli’s patience ran out. “This is ridiculous,” he snapped, scooping her up. “I think you’re strong and tough, you don’t have anything to prove.”

Florence opened her mouth to protest, insist that he set her down, but it was such a relief to be off her feet that she didn't bother. Instead, she just uttered a tired sigh, rested her aching head on Eli’s strong shoulder, and let him hold her.

When the lift dinged, he strode out, keeping his movements slow and steady so he didn't make her nauseous, and she was thankful that he was so attentive to even the smallest of details. He’d been wonderful today, sitting beside her in the hospital, holding her hand, pulling her hair back for her when she’d thrown up, and wiping her brow with a cool cloth. It was hard for even her deepest seeded insecurities to convince her that he was only interested in sex when he was being that sweet.

He obviously had her keys because he unlocked her apartment door and carried her inside, where he set her on the couch, then locked up behind them. CSU had finished up in here, and although there was a mess that would have to be cleaned, she wasn't up to dealing with that at the moment.

No sooner had he fluffed up some pillows, propped her up against them, and covered her with a blanket than there was a knock on her door.

Tutting disapprovingly, Eli answered the door. “What do you want?” he asked bluntly, and she craned her neck to look around him to see who was there.

“I have questions I need to ask the two of you,” Jake said as he strode into the room.

“She’s supposed to be resting,” Eli said.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. Whoever had broken in here and attacked her knew too much about her case, he was obviously stalking her.

“I won't be long,” her partner promised as he came inside, grabbing a chair from the table and pulling it up.

Eli tutted again but came and joined her on the couch, sitting down at the other end, lifting her legs, and then setting them on his lap, his hands absently stroked the length of her calf. “Ask your questions but be quick about it.”

This protective side of his was sweet, as was the attentiveness and fussing, who knew that her cocky savior had such a soft side. Focusing her gooey mind on her assault she told her partner, “I remembered what he said to me. He said that he knew who the Dumpster Killer was. He said the name Michael Stypes. How could he know that was one of our suspects?”

“I don’t know,” Jake said. “Did he say anything else to you?”

“He said that he wasn't going to hurt me and that I shouldn’t fight him. He kept me pressed up against that wall,” she said, gesturing to the wall behind her, then shooting Eli a reassuring smile when she felt him tense. “He knew about me almost getting hit by the car, then he told me we were on the right track and that Michael is the killer. He’s obviously been following me, it’s the only way he could know about the car, I think he was the person watching my apartment the other morning.” Eli tensed again, and she held out her hand to him, he took it and entwined their fingers.

“What did you see when you got here?” Jake asked Eli.

“When I was walking up to the building’s door, a man was hurrying out. He smelled of lavender, and the first thing I thought was that he had been in Florence’s apartment.” Eli hesitated, shot her an apologetic look, then continued, “I wondered if he was her boyfriend and nearly turned around and left, but then I realized that was stupid and came inside.”

“You thought I was cheating on you?” she asked, hurt. That wasn't something that she would do, and she’d given no indication to Eli that she was hiding another man in her life.

“I'm sorry, I know it’s stupid. It was just that you blew me off last night and then never returned my texts, and I guess I panicked a little when I saw a man leaving smelling of your perfume. I'm sorry, Florence.” His hand squeezed hers, and the look he gave her was genuinely remorseful.

“Yeah, okay, I guess I have been unsure about the two of us, I can see why you might have interpreted that as me dating someone else,” she acknowledged. Given that she had doubted the two of them and their budding relationship, she couldn’t really hold it against Eli that he had doubted her.

“So you saw the man who attacked her,” Jake said, it was the only logical conclusion they could come to. “Did you get a good look at him?”

“Not a good look, a passing glance maybe. He was older, late forties I would guess, dark hair streaked with gray, glasses, medium height and build, dressed in sweats,” Eli rattled off.

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