Gabriel clenched his right hand, the hand Charlotte couldn’t see, around the tree branch next to him so tightly that the wood groaned. “The fucking psychopath.”
“Yes, he was, but he didn’t know everything. While he was out, the home phone began to ring and ring and ring. I knew it was Molly checking up on me.”
Gabriel knew the other woman wouldn’t have simply accepted Charlotte’s sudden silence. “She called the cops.”
“Yes. She directly contacted the officers who’d followed up on my complaints about the stalking and told them something was wrong. She said another student had just told her that Richard planned to come after me and that she’d been calling to warn me.” A shaky smile. “She was lying through her teeth about all of it, but it got them to move.”
Smile fading, her breath came shallower and faster.
Gabriel had never felt so fucking helpless in his life. “I’ve got you,” he said, releasing the abused tree branch to brush his fingers over her tear-wet cheek. “I’ve got you.”
A hot droplet splashed onto the back of his hand as she said, “Richard came back maybe fifteen minutes after the phone stopped ringing. I don’t know the exact time—my mind was hazy. He came to the closet and told me he’d thought of a new game. How even though he didn’t want me, he knew some people who might, that he’d invited them over for a party with his slut.”
No, no, no.
“It was all lies,” she said, sending knives of icy relief through Gabriel. “But I didn’t know that. I thought it was real and it broke me. It just… broke me. I started to cry.”
“Hell, Charlotte, you held out that long?” Her strength amazed him. “You’re fucking incredible.” He had to fight every instinct in his body not to haul her into his arms and squeeze her tight.
“I couldn’t do it anymore. I started crying and it was weird. He became gentle, said how it was all my fault that I’d made him lose his temper, but now that I’d seen my mistake, maybe he’d take me back.” Wet words, Charlotte’s voice so hoarse it was barely understandable. “What he didn’t realize was that the cops who’d responded to Molly’s call had arrived right after he returned. They saw him enter the town house, but since they were certain he had me hostage, they couldn’t simply bust down the door.”
Gabriel understood the cops’ reasoning, but those extra minutes had cost Charlotte. “Tell me they got him.”
She nodded. “They made one of my neighbors turn up his music really loud, and then they broke a window under cover of the noise and climbed in. The next time Richard stepped out into the hallway, they slammed him to the ground and cuffed him before he could figure out what was happening.” Her entire body seemed to crumple on the last words, as if it had taken all her strength to tell him what she had.
Holding her against him without trapping her in a way that might make her panic, Gabriel tried to temper his rage. Charlotte didn’t need him to be a macho stud right now. She needed him to hold her, his fierce, shy Charlotte who’d survived the horror with her soul and her spirit intact. Maybe it was a little bruised, but so many people would’ve just given up after such a brutal attack. She’d built a life, a career.
Hell, she’d fought with him.
It staggered him to realize how much courage it must’ve taken for her to stand up to him when she didn’t know how he might react. “No one will ever hurt you again,” he whispered against her hair, the promise one he’d kill to keep. “You’re safe.”
TEN MINUTES LATER, GABRIEL cuddling her close the entire time, Charlotte was no longer crying. She’d dried her face using tissues from her handbag, but now she didn’t know what to do. She’d never felt so exposed, so naked. She couldn’t look at Gabriel, terrified at what she’d see now that he knew the extent of the damage.
Not the physical, though she did bear some scars, but the psychological. Richard might not have killed her, but he’d shattered her, fracturing her psyche into countless pieces. She’d gathered up those pieces, put them back together, but the seams were jagged and rigid with scars, while other parts were hopelessly fragile.
“Hey.” A big rough-skinned hand cupped her cheek, Gabriel’s thumb brushing over her chin. “Look at me.”
The command in his voice made her wounded soul struggle to the surface. “You’re not my boss,” she said, forcing up her head. “Not here.”
Gabriel ran his thumb over her chin again, the tip brushing her lower lip. “You sure?” he asked, his voice a deep drawl. “It’s kind of hot giving you orders, Ms. Baird.”
She sucked in a breath, red-hot flames melting the lump of ice around her heart. She’d been so afraid he’d stop flirting so outrageously with her, that he’d start handling her with kid gloves, like something that wasn’t strong enough to bear anything harsher—as if she wasn’t woman enough to handle him. “Just don’t expect me to obey,” she said on the wave of her relief.
His lips curved, his thumb continuing to caress her lower lip with every stroke. “What would be the fun in that? How can I seduce you out of your panties if you take them off on command?”
“Gabriel.” Her skin burned, but she could feel the sunshine again, see the brilliant colors of the flowers, the shadows retreating under the raw seduction of his voice and his touch.