Page 75 of Every Broken Piece
I startle and squeak.
“Should you be out here?” he asks.
I take a step back, blindly reaching behind me for the door handle. So maybe tempting fate isn’t such a good idea after all. Gabe’s going to be really mad if this man snatches me off the street and takes off with me. Weird that my only thought is that Gabe will be upset and not that this man can probably unalive me in the amount of time it takes to draw in a breath to scream.
The very large man tips his head toward the door. “Best get back inside, Miss James, before Mr. Strong comes out here and carries you back.”
“I—”What?
Before I can get clarification on exactly what he means, the door bursts open, slamming into my back and knocking me forward. I’m teetering on the top step, about to plunge down them when hands grab my waist and yank me back. I’m pulled into a chest I’m becoming all too familiar with.
“Damn it, Tess. What the hell are you doing?”
The big guy in the suit tips his head and smirks.
“Thank you, Roger,” Gabe says.
Roger? Who the hell’s Roger?
“You don’t even have shoes on,” Gabe says as he picks me up.Picks. Me. Up. And carries me inside. “Were you trying to give me a heart attack?”
He lowers my feet to the ground but doesn’t let go of my hips, keeping us so close that I feel the softness of his joggers brush against my leggings. His face is like stone, all hard planes and angry lips pressed closed, blue eyes flat and furious. His anger is palpable but mine is also starting to stir. Finally, an emotion that isn’t self pity.
“Why is there a very large man standing outside my apartment?” I ask.
“Roger?”
“If that’s the name of the very large man standing outside my apartment, then yes. Roger. Why is Roger out there?” I point toward the street.
“He’s keeping tabs on things. Like women who’re supposed to stay inside but don’t.”
I lift my chin. “I’m not a prisoner. I can go where I want.”
His fingers flex on my hips, pressing on a bruise. Such a juxtaposition. His fingers are hurting me, but his presence is healing me. “You’re not a prisoner, but I need you to be safe.”
“Safe from what?”
What does he know? There’s no possible way he’s found out about my mother. As far as he’s concerned the attack at the bar was random. I was careful not to admit that I suspect the reason behind the attack.
“Safe from people who want to hurt you.”
I bunch his soft t-shirt in both fists. “I’ll be okay. I don’t need you or anyone else to keep me safe.”Because you’ve been doing such a bang-up job of it yourself?
His body goes stiff, those fingers digging deeper. I sense the disappointment that washes through him and straight into me, making me feel dirty and unworthy. He’s done so much for me and all I can do is lie to protect him. It’s not a good look. It’s definitely not a good feeling. But it’s for his own good.
He startles me when he swoops me back up and holds me while climbing all four flights of stairs.
“I can walk,” I say a little breathlessly.
“I know you can, but I need to carry you for me. Where’re your shoes? You could step on something and then I’d have to take you to get a tetanus shot.”
But what I hear is,then you’ll trouble me more than you already have, and this is just one more thing I’ll have to do for you.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t mean to be a bother.”
He sets me on my feet outside my apartment. But instead of opening the door, he crowds me against the wall, planting a hand on either side of my head as he leans forward until our noses are almost touching.
“Did I say you’re a bother?”
