Outlaw (Evil Dead MC 1)

Angel looked around as Cole took her hand and pulled her along. She trailed behind him. The place had obviously once housed some type of manufacturing operation, but all the machinery was long gone. Angel could still see the open industrial type ductwork hanging from the ceiling. The floor was cement and the walls were brick, the top half of which were old multi-paned, factory style windows. They were covered in years of dirt and grime. There was a pool table on the left and some tables and chairs scattered about. Some old ratty sofas lined the far left wall, and a bar was set up on the right. It was dimly lit and deserted.

Cole let go of her hand and walked behind the bar. He bent into a cooler and pulled out a couple of cans of soda. Then he came back around, took her hand, and led her through the room, up a flight of metal stairs to a second floor, and down a dark hallway.

They passed several doors. Angel guessed they must have been the offices of whatever business used to occupy the building. They were the old fashioned kind of doors with frosted glass at the top half. There was still gold lettering on them, indicating whose office they had once been. She read the doors as they passed. Purchasing. Production. Engineering. Accounting. President. Cole stopped at the last door on the right and taking out a set of keys, he unlocked the deadbolt. The gold lettering read, Vice President.

When they stepped inside, Angel realized it was now set up as a bedroom of sorts. There was a full-size bed against the exposed brick on the left wall. More old industrial, multi-paned windows framed either side of the bed. These were also grimy with dirt, but at least they let in some light. Pushed up against the opposite wall sat an old wooden desk and swivel chair, probably the original desk from the business. There were some shelves and a dresser cluttered with empty liquor and beer bottles. Another doorway led to what looked like a bathroom.

“Sit down,” Cole said, indicating the bed. He popped the top on one of the cans and handed it to her. Then he disappeared into the bathroom.

Angel drank thirstily from the can and could hear him rummaging through a cabinet. He came back, pulled up the chair from the desk and sat in front of her. Opening a bottle of aspirin, he shook a couple out and handed them to her.

“Take these.”

She popped them into her mouth and took a drink.

Cole took the can out of her hand and set it on the bedside table. He held his hands out. “Let me take a look at your wrists.”

She looked into his eyes and tentatively held them out.

Taking them in his hands, he examined her thin wrists that were covered with purple and yellow bruising. He ran his thumbs over them. Shaking his head softly, he reached for a tube of antibiotic ointment he’d brought from the bathroom. Tenderly, he began to spread some on the cuts on her wrists.

“The bruising is awful, but you’ll live,” Cole reassured, smiling up at her.

“Thanks,” she whispered, undone by his gentle ministrations.

“When’s the last time you ate?” he asked.

“Before the party.”

“So, three days ago?” His eyebrows shot up, his face clearly showing his astonishment.

She nodded.

He shook his head, tossing the ointment on the bedside table.

“That son-of-a-bitch. I’m gonna enjoy killing him,” he murmured under his breath. He took Angel’s hands in his and rubbed his thumbs across the top of her hands. She studied him as he appeared to struggle to find the words he wanted to say. A moment later, he continued, “Everything that happened to you… I’m sorry. For all of it.”

She looked down, watching the motion of his thumbs on her skin. If he hadn’t shown her any sympathy, she could have held it together. But it all caught up with her then. She was so tired of being frightened, of trying to be strong. She tried to fight it, but the tears came, and she didn’t have the strength to fight them.

“Hey,” he whispered, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes. They were starting to fill with tears. “Hey, hey. It’s okay now. You’re safe here.”

She broke down into sobs as she finally let what happened to her sink in.

***

Cole could have handled anything but her crying. He would have preferred her backtalk, or the bravado she had displayed earlier, or the way she had fought him last night. That he could deal with. But these… these were real tears. He’d been with so many women that turned on the waterworks whenever they wanted to get their way, that he’d thought he’d become immune to a woman’s tears. But this, this was real. And he could tell she hated exposing this vulnerable, soft side to him.

Shit.

It didn’t matter how many times he told himself he didn’t need to get involved with her or how unaffected he told himself he was. The truth was she’d touched something in him. He could be as strong and cold as the next man, worse when he had to be. But fuck, this kind of emotional distress, the kind of hurting that goes all the way to the soul? This he couldn’t close his eyes to or turn his back on.

Cole moved to sit on the bed next to her and pulled her into his arms. “Shh. Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He rubbed his hand over her head, smoothing her hair.

She fell against his chest and clung to his cut.

“Baby, come on. Don’t cry. The worst is over.” He rocked her. He felt her trying to pull herself together, then she finally relented, relaxing against him, letting him hold her.

“Shh. You’re gonna be all right. You understand? You’re gonna live through this, and you’re gonna get past it.” Her head was tucked under his chin. “The pain that you’re feelin’? I swear, baby, it won’t stay.” He kissed the top of her head. “I’m not gonna let anything more happen to you.” He tilted her face up to look in her eyes. “You hear me?”

She nodded.

The way she looked into his eyes was getting to him. He knew he needed to distance himself. He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Dry your eyes.”

She was clinging to his cut. He reached up with both hands and gently pulled her hands away. Her big eyes swam with crocodile tears.

He got up and busied himself by putting the chair back by the desk, anything not to have to look into those eyes. She seemed so fragile. “Look, there are towels in the bathroom. Take a hot shower. You’ll feel better. And anything else you need, look through the cabinet. I think there’s a pack of new toothbrushes. A comb. Help yourself.”

He turned to leave.

She swiped at her eyes. “Where are you going?” she whispered.

He stopped and looked back. “I’m gonna go get you some food. I’ll be back in a little while. Okay?”

She nodded.

He turned to leave once again.

“Cole?”

“Yeah?” He paused in the doorway, but didn’t look at her.

“Why did you do what you did up there? Helping me, I mean?” she asked softly.

He turned then, and his gaze found hers.

In spite of everything that had happened to her, her innocence still showed through. He’d been with lots of women over the years and never in all that time had he ever let any of ‘em get to him. Not once. Why now? Why this one? He didn’t have a clue what it was about this girl. He only knew there was something about her that pulled something from down deep inside him. Something he thought he’d buried long ago, buried under years of callousness and brutality. Buried under the thick skin he’d grown out of necessity. He had to push her away. He couldn’t let her know she had an effect on him.

He shrugged, “Because I don’t believe women should be treated the way he treated you. Don’t go reading anymore into it than that, babe.”

***