Strong and Steady

I almost fainted in relief at the sound of Gray’s voice. While I was desperate for the police, I needed Gray.

“Gray,” I whispered, my breath coming out in silent pants.

“What’s wrong?” His voice went from soft to hard in a second.

“There’s… in my house,” I gasped, unable to catch my breath, looking around. All I could see was the grill and bumper of the car in front of me, the steps of the house to the right and the empty street on the other side. I listened for heavy footsteps. “Kitchen. He—”

“There’s someone in your house?”

“Yes!” I hissed, then pressed my lips together. My nostrils flared as I tried to calm my breathing.

Gray called to someone, said something, but I was too panicked to follow. “Emory, are you in the house now?”

I shook my head, my hair getting in my face then realized he couldn’t see me. “No. I ran down the street,” I whispered. “I’m hiding between cars. I called 9-1-1 but didn’t get a chance to talk.”

“Don’t move.” I heard car doors slam, and I flinched, but it was through the phone. “Baby, we’re on the way. Reed called the police, too. Just listen to my voice. Okay?”

I didn’t know who the hell Reed was, but I didn’t care. Gray was coming. “Okay, but… hurry.”

14

GRAY

* * *

The second dinner with the PR rep went well, as much as a dinner meeting can go. Reed in a suit was hard to wrangle; he was more comfortable in MMA shorts and a T-shirt than a tie. I didn’t blame him since I never wore one. I was too old for that shit. I wore a snap shirt and jeans, and I didn’t give a fuck if anyone cared. But Reed? He was the fighter. He wore the tie for shit like this.

With a full stomach from the fancy meal, he couldn’t train, so we watched fight videos and talked strategy. The upcoming competition would be in a ring, but training was more than just practice fighting. I’d been relaxed on the sofa, my feet on the coffee table, remote in hand, when Emory called. The rush of pleasure at the sight of her name on the screen still surprised me.

I hadn’t expected to hear from her, knowing she was probably asleep after her third long day at work. I’d wanted to meet her at the ER when she was done, take her out to eat, but I’d had to do dinner with the sponsors of the fight.

This was new to me, the excitement I had when I was with her, near her, or even thinking of her. I hoped she might be in bed and wanting to tell me what she was wearing. I smiled as I took the call, but it slipped the instant I heard her voice.

Just one word, my name, and her fear was obvious. Jesus, there was a man in her house. Emory didn’t have any skills, any way to defend herself. When I'd given her the tour of the gym downstairs and we’d stood in the ring together, she hadn't even known how to form proper fists. I'd had to show her how to hold them up in front of her. I was in my apartment, and she was across town, hiding between parked cars from a fucking criminal.

I jumped to my feet as if cattle prodded and snapped my fingers at Reed, who immediately perked up from his spot.

“Someone’s in Emory’s house. Came in through the back door.”

Rounding the couch, I gave Reed her address for the police. I bolted for the emergency stairwell. Fuck the slow elevator. Taking the steps two and three at a time, I continued to reassure her while Reed got on the horn with 9-1-1. In the parking lot, I tossed my keys to Reed. There was no way I could drive as I kept talking with Emory. By the time we were in the truck, I was in a full-out panic for her safety, the hot rush of fear and the rage at my lack of control had me gripping the door handle so hard it would probably have dents. The fucker had come in the back door of her house. Had she ever replaced that broken bulb? Shit, why hadn’t I gone and done it for her like I’d planned?

Reed didn’t waste time getting out of the parking lot. For once, I was thrilled he drove like fucking Mario Andretti.

I remembered my dad’s text from the night before. He knew about Emory. From his words, he’d had me followed to her house and knew exactly where she lived. Had he sent someone to hurt her? He’d never done something this extreme to fuck with me, but I hadn’t had someone like Emory before. “Holy shit, Reed. Drive faster.”

“The police should be there soon,” he said, his usual fighting focus now on the road. He slowed to take a corner and the engine roared.

“Is this the one?” he asked as he steered and skidded around another turn. Thankfully, the roads were mostly deserted at this time of night. He was breaking every law, and I didn’t give a shit. If the police wanted to pull us over, they could follow us all the way to Emory's for all I cared. I hadn’t mentioned Emory to anyone but Thor, but it seemed the men knew about her anyway. They were worse about gossip than a bunch of old ladies. I hadn’t heard that she was considered The One, though. Was she The One? Hell yes.

I gave a stiff nod as I held the phone to my ear. “Emory, 9-1-1 will send someone to your house since you called and hung up. Reed called them, too. They’ll be there soon. You don’t have to talk, baby, just keep your head down and stay nice and quiet. We’re getting closer. Don’t move.”

I could hear her breathing, quick and frantic. Fuck, I’d known Emory less than a week, and she was more to me than anyone before—she was everything. The idea of someone wanting to hurt her had my hands tightening into fists. I wanted to hunt down the bastard and beat the shit out of him. I wanted to grab Emory to me, hold her close, sink into her and never come up for air. I needed her scent, her feel, her taste like I needed to breathe. And we’d only kissed. This wasn’t lust. This wasn’t infatuation. This was so much deeper.

“Go through the fucking light,” I growled when Reed slammed on the brakes when the light in front of us turned yellow then red. My head whipped back against the headrest when he switched pedals and roared through the intersection. It was a solid ten-minute ride to her place, but we made it in a little over five. How we weren’t pulled over, I had no idea.

“We’re almost there, baby. I can hear you breathing, know you're with me. I’m going to shout your name when I get there, and you’re going to come out for me and everything’s going to be okay.”

“Yes.” Her voice was barely more than a breath in the phone, but I heard sirens in the background. The guy had to be long gone by now, but I wasn’t taking any fucking chances.