out cold, stretched out on the floor with a trail of blood leaking from his temple. “Mrs. Clark--?”
“Ginny, dear,” she said. “Has someone called the police?”
Danni pushed herself up off the floor, ignoring the ringing in her ears, and balanced herself on the walls as she made her way back towards her bedroom. Cole sat on the floor, holding her phone in his hands. She heard the 911 operator, and took the phone from him. “Please, send help,” she said.
***
Derek saw the cruisers as he rode up to the apartment. His heart started to pound in his ears, and it was everything he could do to park his bike and take the keys with him, instead of just stalling it and dumping it. There were plenty of apartments in the building; this didn’t mean that Danni wasn’t safe. Still, he took the stairs two at a time. There was a uniform in Danni’s doorway, who blocked it as soon as he saw Derek coming up the stairs. Derek knew how he looked, leathers and ink, and he spread his arms out, hands visible, and slowed his pace. “I’m a friend,” he said. “A friend of Danni’s. Is she okay? Are she and Sarah okay?”
He heard Danni call from inside, “It’s okay. I know him, it’s okay.” The uniform looked to someone else, and then nodded, stepped back. Derek forced himself to stay calm as he walked through the door, and not run to Danni and sweep her up and away. The Mahoney dirtbag was cuffed on the floor, and the cops were working on bringing him around. There was a bruise starting to show on the side of his face. It looked like someone had taken a frying pan to him. An older woman sat on the couch with Sarah’s hand clutched tight in hers, and a woman in a suit was speaking to them both. Danni was sitting on a kitchen stool, an EMT checking out her eyes, and a little boy that Derek assumed was Cole was glued to her.
The EMT was satisfied with whatever she saw, and drew back. Danni’s eyes looked up at Derek, and he saw such exhaustion in them that he wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe for the rest of her life.
“Busy morning,” she said, and tears started to slide down her face, completely silent. He touched her shoulder, and she leaned into his hand, seeking comfort like a kitten. He let his thumb trace over her cheek, and just tried his very best to take away the pain.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sarah decided to enter a program that the women’s shelter offered. Half therapy and half residential, they’d get her out of the apartment Ryan had paid for, and help her find a new place, a new job, and anything else she needed. She looked tired, but resolved.
Mrs. Clark completely ignored every attempt they made to thank her. She’d heard Sarah’s screams from upstairs and had put them together with building gossip to realize that she and her frying pan were needed.
Derek went back down to his bike for the pastries he’d bought. They were sort of smashed, but once the officers cleared out and Ryan was gone, the three of them devoured the hodgepodge of tastes and textures. Danni called Cole out of school. He would have gone, but she wasn’t sure she could stand to have him out of her sight today. When she said that to Derek, he nodded. Which made her heart melt all over again.
“Do you have leathers?” he asked, once she had Cole settled in front of a puzzle, along with his favorite snuggly. She glanced at him, her brain not connecting quite yet. Everything felt a little foggy, a little far away. “You know, chaps, a jacket, gloves?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I haven’t worn them in years, though.”
“Do they still fit?”
She considered. “The jacket should. The pants, no way in hell.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure.” She pulled it out of the depths of the closet she’d buried it in after Mickey left, and watched as Derek sat down on the couch, a respectful distance from Cole, and began to brush and clean her jacket.
“Ginny, dear,” she said. “Has someone called the police?”
Danni pushed herself up off the floor, ignoring the ringing in her ears, and balanced herself on the walls as she made her way back towards her bedroom. Cole sat on the floor, holding her phone in his hands. She heard the 911 operator, and took the phone from him. “Please, send help,” she said.
***
Derek saw the cruisers as he rode up to the apartment. His heart started to pound in his ears, and it was everything he could do to park his bike and take the keys with him, instead of just stalling it and dumping it. There were plenty of apartments in the building; this didn’t mean that Danni wasn’t safe. Still, he took the stairs two at a time. There was a uniform in Danni’s doorway, who blocked it as soon as he saw Derek coming up the stairs. Derek knew how he looked, leathers and ink, and he spread his arms out, hands visible, and slowed his pace. “I’m a friend,” he said. “A friend of Danni’s. Is she okay? Are she and Sarah okay?”
He heard Danni call from inside, “It’s okay. I know him, it’s okay.” The uniform looked to someone else, and then nodded, stepped back. Derek forced himself to stay calm as he walked through the door, and not run to Danni and sweep her up and away. The Mahoney dirtbag was cuffed on the floor, and the cops were working on bringing him around. There was a bruise starting to show on the side of his face. It looked like someone had taken a frying pan to him. An older woman sat on the couch with Sarah’s hand clutched tight in hers, and a woman in a suit was speaking to them both. Danni was sitting on a kitchen stool, an EMT checking out her eyes, and a little boy that Derek assumed was Cole was glued to her.
The EMT was satisfied with whatever she saw, and drew back. Danni’s eyes looked up at Derek, and he saw such exhaustion in them that he wanted to wrap her up and keep her safe for the rest of her life.
“Busy morning,” she said, and tears started to slide down her face, completely silent. He touched her shoulder, and she leaned into his hand, seeking comfort like a kitten. He let his thumb trace over her cheek, and just tried his very best to take away the pain.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Sarah decided to enter a program that the women’s shelter offered. Half therapy and half residential, they’d get her out of the apartment Ryan had paid for, and help her find a new place, a new job, and anything else she needed. She looked tired, but resolved.
Mrs. Clark completely ignored every attempt they made to thank her. She’d heard Sarah’s screams from upstairs and had put them together with building gossip to realize that she and her frying pan were needed.
Derek went back down to his bike for the pastries he’d bought. They were sort of smashed, but once the officers cleared out and Ryan was gone, the three of them devoured the hodgepodge of tastes and textures. Danni called Cole out of school. He would have gone, but she wasn’t sure she could stand to have him out of her sight today. When she said that to Derek, he nodded. Which made her heart melt all over again.
“Do you have leathers?” he asked, once she had Cole settled in front of a puzzle, along with his favorite snuggly. She glanced at him, her brain not connecting quite yet. Everything felt a little foggy, a little far away. “You know, chaps, a jacket, gloves?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I haven’t worn them in years, though.”
“Do they still fit?”
She considered. “The jacket should. The pants, no way in hell.”
“Can I see it?”
“Sure.” She pulled it out of the depths of the closet she’d buried it in after Mickey left, and watched as Derek sat down on the couch, a respectful distance from Cole, and began to brush and clean her jacket.
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