Rushed: Christopher (The Four 4.50)

“Thank—” I began as I lifted my eyes to Rush’s face. As I quickly took in his gorgeous features, I stumbled over the rest of what I’d been trying to say. “Thank you, Rush.”

I quickly dropped my eyes because Rush’s dark eyes were just too damn intense. I knew they couldn’t be black, but they were such a deep shade of brown that they may as well have been.

I fully expected the man who had at least six inches and seventy-five pounds on me to lead me from the room, but he surprised me when his gentle fingers brushed my chin and then urged my face up. Since he was holding me in the position, I allowed myself to drink my fill of him. Tan skin, black hair that was just a bit unruly, and dark brows framing eyes that I just knew in my gut would only be readable if the man behind them allowed it.

Like he was doing now.

I couldn’t really make sense of what I was seeing. Concern, yes, but it went deeper than that. He was studying me like… like he knew me or something, yet I’d never met the man in my life.

The show of what I could only call emotion rattled me, and I found myself dropping my eyes a bit.

They landed on his mouth.

His really pretty mouth that was surrounded by just a bit of scruff that, like his hair, was dark.

Despite Rush’s hold on my chin, when I dropped my eyes even more, they unfortunately landed on the guy who’d dragged me into the room. I automatically jumped back to put some distance between us, but Rush easily caught me and said, “He’s out, Christopher. And he’s not coming to anytime soon, I promise you.”

I felt sick to my stomach at the sight of the man but not because his face looked like hamburger. The truth about what the man would have done to me had Rush not shown up was sinking in. I supposed that even as he’d been about to force me to perform some sex act on him, somewhere deep inside I’d believed my knight in shining armor would come.

And he had.

That was twice now.

Micah had saved me when I’d been fourteen, and Rush had saved me now. Would luck strike a third time? If I was out on a date with some guy and he got too forward, would there be someone to stop him? What if some random guy grabbed me off the street as I was walking on the sidewalk and stuck a gun in my gut while demanding all my money?

No… no, I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not him and not Date Guy. I wasn’t brave enough. Tonight had been proof of that.

If I’d helped Gio when he’d fought back… if I’d tried just a little harder to reach that fire alarm…

“Christopher?”

Rush’s voice brought me back to the present. Funnily enough, my eyes automatically went to his hands. They were heavily bruised and covered in blood that looked like it had been wiped off as best as it could be.

“Christopher?”

I wanted to cry because Rush’s voice was even gentler now, and there was no missing the pity in it.

I nodded and stepped forward. I was grateful that Rush kept his body between mine and my attacker’s.

As we left the room, there were a few gawkers in various states of undress outside both my door and the door of the room Gio had been taken into. I froze in place because I didn’t want any one of those people to touch me. Even by accident.

“Whoa, I’ve got you,” Rush said softly, his big body nearly brushing mine from behind. He put an arm protectively around my chest while his upper body pressed against my back as he urged me forward. I didn’t feel trapped or restrained in any kind of way.

I felt… safe.

But I knew it was all temporary. I could call Rush my knight in shining armor or my hero or whatever, but once this hellish night was over, he’d be gone.

A cold, ugly truth settled over me. It was something my uncle King had even tried to warn me about it.

Life wasn’t a romance novel. Bad things happened, and when they did, there wasn’t always someone there to stop it.

I’d gotten lucky twice.

There wouldn’t be a third. I knew that in my gut.

Which left only one thing to do…

CHAPTER ONE

RUSH

FOUR YEARS LATER

“Here.”

I actually let out a little grunt when King shoved a huge and really fucking heavy box into my arms. On the side of the box was the word books written out in black marker.

“What the fuck?” I began and then saw King lift another box, which he unceremoniously dropped on top of the one I was already holding. “Dude,” I said as my muscles began to feel the strain. “I thought we were going for a beer.”