I whip my head back around, my wide, terrified pupils immediately focusing on Rogan’s tall, hulking form hovering over a curled body. It’s Ronnie, lying in the fetal position on the ground at Rogan’s feet. He’s holding his stomach.
Rogan bends, taking a handful of Ronnie’s thatch of red hair and holding his head still while he brings his fist down. I hear the sickening crunch of bone just as blood spurts from Ronnie’s nose. Rogan releases his head, letting it bounce against the sparse field of grass beneath him.
“Make him stop, Katie. Tell him to stop,” Ronnie pleads in a pained, desperate voice muffled by the hands he’s holding up to his face.
I don’t tell him that I have no intention of doing any such thing. But I don’t need to. At the mention of my name, Rogan whirls to face me, his eyes taking me in. He rushes toward me, bending slightly to put his face in line with mine. “Are you okay?” he asks, tenderly palming my cheeks. His expression is wild and worried.
The surreal quality of the moment is only intensified by the sound of hysterical hiccupping and sniffling that I soon realize is my own. “Ye-ye-yeah.”
Rogan folds his arms around me, pulling me against his chest and stroking my hair with a soothing hand. “I’m here now, darlin’. You’re safe. You’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
And for some reason, I believe him.
TWENTY
Rogan
I’m torn. I want to go back and beat the ever-lovin’ shit out of the asshat who put his hands on Katie, but having her in my arms . . . knowing how vulnerable she is right now . . . how much she needs safety and security and strength . . . Well, nothing could take me away from that. Away from her. Not even the lust for blood.
I’m so glad that I managed to track Katie down. It took some finagling, but I finally managed to get Mona’s number once I was able to get hold of White. It pays to be an actor working on his show.
Mona told me where Katie was and that she was waiting for the boat to arrive. I hauled ass out here to find her. Passed the damn entrance twice. It was hard as hell to spot in the dark. And then when I did finally manage to get here, this is what I find.
I grit my teeth, holding Katie close and bending my head to whisper in her ear. “Let me get you out of here. I’ll keep you safe.”
She doesn’t argue, just continues to cry softly into my neck as I sweep her up in my arms and carry her toward my bike. It’s as I’m nearing it that I remember she’s practically naked from the waist up. That image—the one of her standing at the edge of the light, chest heaving, perfectly rounded breasts swaying, eyes wild—will be burned into my memory for the rest of my days, I suspect. Holy shit! So will this rush of desire. I’ve never felt anything like it. It might be intensified by the rage that I’m experiencing, too. I thought I’d left that kind of emotion behind me, but tonight . . . Mother of God! Even growing up with a father like mine or during my time in the Army, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hurt another person so much, so violently. I know that’ll be another picture I won’t soon forget—that asshole holding her down, touching her, trying to force himself on her.
My blood boils just thinking about it. With the iron will that I honed early on in my life, I make myself calm down, focusing on the wounded creature in my arms and how she doesn’t need anything but tenderness now. My fury can wait. Katie comes first.
“Are your keys in the car?” I ask, pressing my lips to the crown of her head. Her hair smells like flowers and that hint of musk that seems to be unique to this woman.
She doesn’t speak, only nods. Relieved, I change trajectory, going to her car rather than back to my bike. I open the passenger side door and place her gently in the seat. Her arms are crossed protectively over her chest. Despite the fact that her modesty is mostly preserved by them, I tuck the tattered remains of her shirt around her.
As I straighten away, Katie’s glistening eyes meet mine. They look tortured. Ashamed even, which I find a little bizarre considering what almost happened to her. Maybe it’s normal for the victim to feel shame. What the hell do I know?
She turns her face away, tucking her chin against her shoulder. “Thank you,” she murmurs. And then she starts to cry again, a delicate, heartbroken sound that claws at my heart.
“You don’t need to thank me. I would never let anyone hurt you. Never,” I tell her as earnestly as I know how.
That just seems to make her cry harder, so I close the door and round to the driver’s side, scooting the seat back and sliding in behind the wheel.
With only the occasional muted sound of Katie’s sobs to break the silence, I make the trip back across town to her house. After I park, I take the keys out of the ignition and go unlock her door before returning to scoop her out of the low seat and carry her inside.
I place her gently on the couch and turn to go close the door, but Katie’s words stop me. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispers brokenly.
I take three long steps toward the door, just enough to get me close enough to kick it shut before I return to the sofa. I lean down to draw her into my arms one more time, settling her on my lap with her head on my shoulder. Then I answer her. “I’m not going anywhere.”
With Katie cradled against me, we sit in silence, the only noise coming from the cat, who’s purring loudly from his perch on the back of the couch. My arm falls asleep long before Katie stops crying. I don’t know if it happens suddenly or if it just feels like it happens suddenly. Either way, it’s like one minute she’s shaking and the next minute she’s looking up at me from beneath her lashes.
I’m surprised by what I see when I look down at her. There’s fire in her eyes. Something like a rebellious anger maybe. I don’t ask questions, even though I want to. I just wait for her to speak. I let her set the pace.
Finally, she levers herself away from me, sliding her legs between mine until her feet touch the floor. I miss holding her the instant I no longer feel her warmth against me. I liked being close to someone who’s impossible to get close to. But I don’t tell her that. I just hold my tongue and wait.
Katie stands to her feet, clutching the shreds of her shirt around her as she backs slowly away from me. She stops when there’s about two feet separating us and she straightens. She looks like she’s bolstering herself. I can see her spine stiffen and her chin ratchet up a few notches. The difference is subtle, but it feels profound. Fierce. And I’m instantly curious about it. Gone is the timid girl who hides away behind downcast eyes and a swath of comforting hair. She’s been replaced by this bold, kind of ferocious woman standing in front of me.
Surprising the shit out of me, Katie lets the pieces of her shirt fall away. Bra, too. They dangle at her sides for a few seconds before she tears them off, almost viciously. She tosses them onto the floor with jerky movements. My mouth drops open as I take in the sight of her. Blue eyes flash hotly, lush lips thin into a determined line, chest swells beneath mouthwatering tits as she inhales deeply. She’s fiery. And beautiful. And I’ve never wanted anything more in my whole miserable life. I’ll never forget this either. I know that tonight is already full of images that will probably haunt me for a long time to come.
I can’t stop myself from looking at the rest of her, so proudly on display. Her breasts are creamy and bigger than I imagined, capped with delicately pink nipples that pucker toward the sky. Her stomach is flat, dipping in at the sides to give her a perfect hourglass shape that flares into her slim hips.
God, she’s amazing!
As I eat her up with my gaze, she shifts slightly, causing the light to glint off some less-than-smooth skin. My eyes focus on the pebbly texture that stretches from the left side of her neck down, grazing her shoulder and then disappearing until it picks up again below her ribs on the left side of her torso.