Page 35 of Sheltering Lawson
“No, Mike. I’m sure about that. But I’ll get back to you as soon as I find out. I’m going to get some answers right now. Thank you for checking. Please, let me handle this.”
“Will do, but if she’s running from the law…”
“I get it. You can’t look the other way.” My gut clenched hard. “I’ll be in touch.”
I pulled up and my headlights illuminated her in the beams. She froze, took one look at my truck and started to run. I noticed the bag she had in her hand. I’d been right. She was leaving without even her car. She had to have been spooked pretty bad.
I jumped out of the truck and started to chase her. “Lawson! Stop!” But either she was too panicked to hear me, or she was ignoring me.
I ran after her and she was fast, sprinting out of the parking lot, kicking up shells and dirt to the road. I ran every day with Rory, and without breaking stride, I pelted after her, increasing my speed, my muscles pumping.
She cut across the road and disappeared into the bayou, running on the soggy ground was going to slow her down, and she would realize that instantly. I anticipated that she would change direction and try to cut back out to solid ground.
Sure enough, she emerged from the brush so close to me, her harsh breathing heavy and panicked.
She ran right into me, too busy looking over her shoulder. As soon as my arms wrapped around her, she started to struggle. “No, let me go. Let me go, Bradley…”
“Lawson,” I shouted. “It’s me, Ethan.” She was struggling in earnest now, and I was afraid I would hurt her. I let her go, and she fell backwards and started to propel herself, pushing away from me. She was heading for the bayou. The look on her face was full-blown panic.
She flipped over, using her arms to push herself up and started to run again, but I caught her around the waist. She was crying in earnest now, tearing at my heart.
I carried her to the road, got her under a street light and framed her face in my hands, making her look at me. “It’s Ethan! I’m not going to hurt you. No one’s going to hurt you ever again.”
She stopped struggling, her tear-streaked, panicked face looked up at me. Her expression frozen, and she went so still, it was as if she wasn’t breathing. There was a long, electric silence, her agitation almost palpable.
“Ethan,” she said, softly, then repeated my name her voice stronger. She threw her arms around my neck and burst into hard sobs. I picked her up and crouched down for her bag. Settling her deeper into my arms, I headed back to Outlaws with her cradled against me.
Now I knew something was seriously wrong, that she was terrified and running, and I had a name. She was so strung out and tense, like fine crystal ready to shatter, I knew there was no going back. I was all in here with her.
I would deliver on that promise. No one was ever going to hurt her again.
I set her down long enough to turn off the ignition and the lights in my truck, then closed the door. I hauled her back into my arms and carried her up the back stairs and into her apartment.
I went straight for the sofa and sat down, cradling her in my arms. She was shaking violently. I grabbed the throw on the back of the sofa and covered her up, cuddling her against me. It tore me all to hell thinking that she had been alone and dealing with this for a year, living from hand to mouth, running from state to state. I could barely stand it.
Well, it was going to stop here. Now.
She was still sobbing, and I let her have that release. This Bradley, the fucker, obviously had her scared out of her mind.
She buried her wet face in my neck, and I just held her tightly, giving her time to get it all out. When the sobs dwindled to sniffles, I reached for some tissues on the side table, handing them to her.
She wiped at her face and blew her nose, wadding the tissues in her hands. She looked up at me, her eyes puffy and swollen, her nose red.
She was so goddamned beautiful.
“Why don’t we cut the shit right now, Lawson, and you tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”
She went very still again, and I caught a glimmer of alarm in her eyes and a contriteness that made me think that this had been a terrible battle for her.
“I don’t want to get you involved. People who get involved get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”
“I’m a Marine, Lawson. I can kill a man with my bare hands if I have to. I’m a wall of muscle that’s going to be standing between you and whoever thinks they can terrorize you. So spill. Now.”
She gave me a snippy look and grumbled something about alpha macho men under her breath.
“Lawson, I’m not going to leave here or stop badgering you until you tell me.”
There was an instant, just an instant, where she sat staring at me, almost as if she was paralyzed, then she abruptly covered her face with her hands, a low sound wrenched from her. Experiencing a fierce, painful cramp in my chest I forced myself to keep it together, the need to comfort her almost unmanageable. But now wasn’t about comfort, it was about truth. The whole unvarnished truth.
