Forsaken (The Protectors 4)

The man stepped farther into the apartment and slid his hand over Baby’s head as the dog greeted him, but his eyes remained on Eli. “What happened?” he asked as his eyes registered the damage to Eli’s face and I didn’t miss the dark look in his gaze as he glanced at me when he strode past me to get to Eli. I had no doubt the guy was wondering if I was the cause of Eli’s injuries.

“Nothing,” Eli murmured as he let the other guy turn his face to get a better look. I hated the bout of jealousy that filtered through me. “I fell down some stairs when I was leaving the hospital.”

The lie caught me off guard and when my eyes connected with Eli’s, I saw the silent plea there. The other man looked at me briefly, but I kept my mouth shut.

“Brennan, this is Mav. He helped me out at the hospital and drove me home. Mav, this is Brennan Devereaux.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Brennan said and then reached out to shake my hand. His grip was firm and steady.

I desperately wanted to ask Eli who the guy was to him, but I forced myself to step back from the pair and said, “I should get going.” It felt like acid was burning my insides as I gave Eli one last look and then turned towards the door. I cursed the all too familiar sensation that had no business appearing now. Eli was nothing to me, so to feel the pain of losing something I hadn’t actually had was beyond ridiculous. The fact that I still felt it at all after so many years made me angrier than I wanted to admit.

I had my hand on the doorknob when I heard Eli say, “Mav, wait,” and then his hand was closing over my forearm. The contact felt like a punch to the gut because it was the first time he was willingly touching me. I both wanted the moment to end and for it to last forever. I turned until our eyes met.

“Thank you,” he said with a nod. But it was his eyes that spoke volumes. The acid in my belly settled and was replaced with another equally unwelcome sensation.

I nodded and opened the door, ignoring the feeling of loss as Eli’s fingers dropped from my arm. But instead of moving forward, I glanced at him again and whispered, “You know where to find me.”

And with that, I left the apartment.

Chapter Two

Eli

My fingertips were still tingling where I’d held on to Mav just before he’d walked out the door. Even worse, his rumbly voice was still stroking over my entire body as I replayed his words in my head.

You know where to find me.

That was the problem. And unless I was willing to give up my nearly daily visits to the ICS unit, it would continue to be a problem.

The first time I’d seen the tall, burly, long-haired man outside room 421, I’d actually stopped in my tracks and debated skipping the room all together. He’d been wearing almost exactly the same thing he wore most days – black leather pants, black boots and a black T-shirt that stretched across his broad chest. Tattoos covered much of his arms and disappeared under the wide leather wrist cuffs he wore and I’d had no doubt they continued to his shoulders and beyond because I’d seen a hint of ink peeking out from beneath the neckline. His long black hair had been tied back with some kind of band or tie, but I’d gotten a good enough look to see that it would fall at least to his shoulders when loose.

I’d only had a profile view at that point, but I’d felt an uncomfortable stirring in my gut as I’d taken in the hard line of his scruff-covered jaw, his wide lips, and straight nose. His darker skin tone had given him an exotic look and I’d cursed the fact that I hadn’t been able to tell what color his eyes were from where I’d stood trying to pretend I wasn’t watching him.

But none of that was what had truly frightened me. It was the way he’d held himself as he’d stood there outside that door, his eyes scanning each and every person in the crowded hallway.

Assessing.

Unforgiving.

Dangerous.

And then he’d looked at me. And he’d kept looking at me. I’d felt it even after I’d dropped my eyes and pretended to look at the list of patient names in my hand.

I’d wanted to run like the coward I was. But then I’d looked down at the list of kids who were a thousand times stronger and braver than me and I’d forced my feet to move. I’d somehow managed to greet the various nurses and staff as I’d passed by them, but I hadn’t managed to lift my eyes even once when I’d reached the door to the room where little Matty Travers was spending the next several weeks undergoing treatment for leukemia.