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Authors: C.C. Snow

BOOK: Deserve
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“It’s alright. My colleagues are going to take care of your
friend.” She helps me to my feet and I have to clutch onto her to steady
myself.

Tears start filling my eyes again. “She…he…” A wail emits
from my lips.

Then strong arms pull me against a hard chest and the
wonderful, familiar scent of pine enfolds me. “
Sh
…I’m
here. It’s okay, Maggie angel. I’m here.”

At his soft words, everything crashes in on me and I start
weeping and shaking uncontrollably, clinging onto his jacket. I want to burrow
into Sean’s skin until I disappear. His body is tense with fury, but he holds
me gently, his fingers petting my hair. I can’t hear anything he’s saying, but his
deep, soothing voice comforts me on the deepest, most primal level. He presses
his cheek against my head. “
Shh
…it’s all okay now,
angel.”

My tremors slowly subside, but I stay in his arms, needing
his warmth.

“Maggie, let’s have you checked out, okay?”

I shake my head, reluctant to leave my safe haven.

As if he read my mind, Sean murmurs, “I’ll be with you the
whole time, but this nice lady needs to make sure you’re okay. Come on. Let’s
have…” He leans over to look at the EMT’s nametag. “Tanya
check
out your injuries.”

He guides me over to the back of an ambulance with Tanya
following close behind. And as promised, he stays by my side as the EMT checks
my vitals and asks me questions. She gently cleans the minor scrapes on my
hands and cheek and I flinch despite her gentleness. Sean’s face tightens and I
squeeze his hand to let him know I’m okay. When she applies the antibiotic
cream and bandages my hands, I make sure I stay motionless.

She asks me to show her where else I’m hurt and I point to
my shoulder and my hips, saying, “I fell on this side.” I point to my other
shoulder. “He twisted my arm and this shoulder is a bit sore.” I lift my hand
to touch the back of my head. “And he pulled my hair, but other than a few bald
patches, I don’t think there’s lasting damage.”

Sean’s body is drawn so tight, I’m afraid he will snap in
half and there is a murderous expression on his face.

Tanya finishes her exam and says, “I don’t see anything
serious, but we need to do some tests at the hospital to be sure.”

A barrel-chested man in a NYPD uniform walks up to me and
says, “Ma’am, I’m Officer Jeffrey Cox. Are you able to give a statement about
what happened tonight?”

I look at Sean and he says with an implacable note in his
voice, “She needs to go to the hospital. I’ll bring her in to the station
tomorrow to give a full statement. I was the first one on the scene.” He takes
out his wallet and flashes a badge at the officer. “The
perp
is at least five ten, maybe one-sixty to one-eighty, wearing dark clothes.” He
scrubs his face in frustration. “I know that’s nothing to go on, but it was too
fucking dark and I couldn’t make out his face.” He looks at me. “Do you
remember any distinguishing features?”

Brow furrowing, I try to sift through my murky recollection
of
tonight
 
and
shake my head regretfully. “No. It happened so fast and he was at my back.” I
hug myself, feeling phantom arms shackling me.

“I’m sorry about this happened to you ma’am. If you remember
anything, please call me.” He hands me a
card which
Sean pockets. “Take care, ma’am.” The officer nods and walks away.

Sean asks, “Maggie, do you want to go in the ambulance and
I’ll meet you at the hospital?”

I shake my head and clasp his hand. “I don’t need to go to
the hospital.” I roll my shoulders and wince. “I’m sore, but since there’s
nothing broken, they can’t do anything for me except give me painkillers.”

“Maggie—” he starts warningly.

Now that I’m able to think clearly again, I know I don’t
need medical attention. “Please, Sean. I don’t want to spend hours waiting to
take tests I don’t need.” When he looks like he’s going to argue with me, I
add, “I know my own body. I’m fine.”

Sean turns his gaze to Tanya. “You’re sure she’s okay?”

“Sir, I can’t tell you that. All I see are scrapes and
bruises, but I always recommend doing a thorough examination at the hospital.”

At the thought of waiting around to see a doctor for a few
minor scratches, I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to go.” I don’t care if I
sound like a recalcitrant child, but I’m not budging.

He takes one look at my face and sighs heavily. “Maggie, I’d
feel better if you get checked out.”

“No.”

He swears, his fingers running roughly through his hair.
“You obstinate, little…” I can’t hear the rest of his sentence, but from the
way he’s grinding his teeth, it’s not flattering.

“Thank you for helping me, Tanya.” I get to my feet,
signaling my final decision. Sean’s hand is immediately at my back, steadying
me.

“If you feel anything unusual—”

“I will,” I promise, cutting her off before she alarms Sean
with dire warnings. He already looks apoplectic.

“Take care, ma’am,” Tanya says and starts to pack away the
supplies.

I notice that the scene has cleared out. A couple of police
officers remain, one of them taking photos of the spot where Hannah laid. At
the sight of the large bloodstain, a shiver runs through my body. I lean
against Sean, feeling weak in the knees.

Abruptly he swings me into his arms.

“Sean,” I gasp. “What are you doing?”

“I’m taking you to my car. You’re not staying by yourself
tonight.”

The idea of staying alone in my dorm room is repugnant and
I’m grateful he thought of it.

“I can walk,” I protest but his arms tighten and he lowers
his face. There’s a look of helpless rage on his face.

“Don’t.” He doesn’t say anything else, but that one syllable,
spoken in a hoarse tone, silences me. I rest my head against his chest and
listen to his strong heartbeat as he strides purposefully down the street.

Chapter Thirteen
Sean

Seeing her pale, tear-streaked face, I wish I had ended the
fucker who dared touch her.

Her weight is so
slight,
it’s
unimaginable that she fought him off. Even with my training, I couldn’t subdue
the bastard. He had a wiry strength that had been surprising for someone who
weighed at least thirty pounds less than I did and it was his smaller build
that allowed him to slither out of my grasp.

Every time I think about what he could have done to her, I
want to throw up. Then I want to tear the sick pervert apart. If I only had my
gun with me, I would have taken justice into my own hands.

Picturing the fucker seeking out another victim, I fight to
keep my rage contained, not wanting to add to her stress. My strides lengthen.

“Wait, why are you here? How did you find me?” Her voice is
scratchy from screaming and crying.

“After you hung up, I had to come see you in person.” I sat
on my ass for far too long before I decided to take action. Had I decided not to
give in to my gut instincts

Refusing to complete the thought, I tighten my arms around
her. Her goodbye had sounded so sad and final that panic flashed through me. With
images of her entwined with frat boy whirling in my head, I finally rushed out
of my apartment. “As I was walking from the car to the dorm, I heard a cry for
help.”

“Thank God.”

The bitter-sour taste of bile coats my tongue at the thought
of what would have happened had I come a minute later. What if I had not gotten
off my ass? What if I hadn’t been so desperate to see her that I ran a few
yellow lights? What if I hadn’t found a parking space right down the street?

I’m not a religious man, but I send a prayer of thanks up to
the heavens for making sure I was at the right place at the right time.

“I ran as fast as I could when I heard the scream.” I
swallow with difficulty, thinking about the fear and terror she must have felt
when she was on the ground under that psycho.

“He had his hand over my mouth, but I kneed him and he let
go for a second. I screamed as loud as I could, but then he covered my mouth
again.”

I kiss the top of her hair and say fervently, “Smart girl.”
Smart, brave, beautiful angel.

We arrive at my car and I set her gently on her feet,
keeping my arm firmly around her small waist.
 
After I open the door, I settle her into
the seat and buckle her up, making sure the strap isn’t pressing on her injured
shoulder.

“Do you think Hannah will be okay?” she asks when I sit down
in the driver’s seat.

This woman’s heart is as big as the sky. Even as she’s
hurting, she’s still thinking of her friend. “We’ll check in with the hospital
tomorrow.”

“Can we go tonight?” Her eyes get watery. “Sean…”

I hold her face in my hands, careful to avoid the scratches
on her cheek. “
Shh
…she’s most likely going to be in
surgery for hours. We won’t find out anything tonight.”

Sniffling, she slowly nods and in the next instant cries
out, “I have to call Cory!” She takes her phone out of her pocket.

At the mention of him, I clamp my teeth together.
How serious are they?

“Cory, it’s Maggie.” In a quavering voice, she gives him a
rundown of the night.

I grit my teeth in aggravation when I hear about how she
charged into the situation, heedless of her own safety. This woman needs a
keeper and I’m appointing myself to the position.

To my relief, she doesn’t say anything that indicates a more
intimate relationship with frat boy. She hangs up and looks at me. “He’s going
to the hospital right now.”

From the glassy look in her eyes, I know she’s running out
of gas. Then it dawns on me that I need to let
Cael
know what happened. “Fuck, I need to call
Cael
.”

Maggie looks at me with a look of longing mixed with alarm.
“No! Don’t call him.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “What? Are you crazy? He’ll
string out my guts if I keep this from him.”

“Please don’t, Sean!” she begs. “It’ll activate his Superman
complex. He’s going to freak out.”

“Maggie, I can’t hide this from your brother,” I argue.

“Please! I’m okay and
Cael’s
not
going to be able to do anything all the way from Chicago. It will just cause
him unnecessary worry.”

Unconvinced by her reasoning, I take out my phone and she
blurts, “If you call him, I’m never going to talk to you again!”

Exasperated, I ask, “Maggie, don’t you think your brother
will see it on his news feed?” Knowing
Cael
, he would
have an alert for anything to do with the university. Hell, for anything to do
with the whole city.

“They don’t have my name. I haven’t given my statement yet,”
she points out triumphantly.

“And when you do?”

“It won’t be news by then.
Cael
can’t find out about this.” She looks at me beseechingly, a hint of desperation
in her eyes.

Eyes narrowing, I ask, “Tell me why you’re so reluctant to
let
Cael
know about this.”

She looks down at her laced fingers. “I don’t see what good
it will do to tell him.” Lifting her eyes back to my face, she begs, “Please,
Sean. Don’t tell him. I already had a hard enough time convincing him I’d be
okay in New York by myself.”

Keeping this a secret from him goes against my every
instinct, but I can’t resist that sad pleading expression. “Fuck!”

Sensing victory, she smiles. “Thanks, Sean.”

I mutter another curse and then sigh in defeat.
Stubborn brat
. I stuff my phone back in
my pocket. “Fine! But you’re going to stay with me for a while.” At her nod of
agreement, I feel the knot loosen in my stomach. After everything that’s
happened, I just want to keep her as close to me as possible.

Both of us are quiet on the ride to my place. I’m still
trying to process the fucked up night and I can’t imagine what is going on in
Maggie’s mind.

I pull into the garage and park in my spot. “Don’t move,” I
tell Maggie and I get out of the car, but by the time I reach her side, she
already has her seatbelt off and her door open. “Didn’t I tell you not to
move?”

“Sean, I’m not going to break.”

I scowl, finally getting a taste of what
Cael
puts up with. At the thought of her brother, guilt rears its head, but I won’t go
back on my promise to her.

I cup her elbow and lead her to the elevator. As soon as we
walk into the apartment, she turns to me and says, “I…I need to shower.”

A fresh surge of rage rushes through me when I contemplate what
that
fuckwad
did. I swallow back the need to howl
with wrath. “Maggie, did he…” I search her eyes, frantically looking for clues
as to how much damage he had done before I arrived. She was still fully clothed
at the scene, but that doesn’t necessarily mean nothing happened.

I don’t realize how tense I am until she shakes her head and
my muscles unclench in relief.

“No, you got there before he could had a chance to do
anything,” she says.

At her sniffle, I pull her into my arms. “Thank God!” I
whisper.

The hug is meant to be comforting, but soon something else
builds up in my lower body and I silently curse myself out for being such a
sick bastard. I gently push her away and direct her toward the stairs. “You can
shower upstairs.”

She walks ahead of me, but I keep my gaze on her feet. The
last thing she needs right now is another overgrown male leering at her.

Taking her to the bedroom across from mine, I point to the
bathroom. “There are clean towels in there. I’ll dig up something for you to
wear.”

“Okay.”

She makes a beeline for the bathroom and I go back into my
bedroom. It takes me two seconds to realize I don’t have anything that would
fit her. Pulling a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts with drawstrings out of
my dresser, I go back into the guest bedroom and place it on the duvet. The
sound of the shower conjures up an image of Maggie, wet and naked, under the
water spray.

“Fuck me,” I mutter and leave the room.

Being without sex for
this long has seriously twisted you,
an inner voice taunts.

To dampen my libido, I take a nice cold shower. I pull on
some sweats and a t-shirt, and head downstairs to the kitchen. Deciding I need
something to calm my nerves, I pour myself a glass of scotch.

I hear her coming down the stairs just as I take my first
gulp. When I see her, I can’t suppress my smile. My blue t-shirt looks like a
giant poncho on her. The sleeves reach past her elbows and the hem covers her
knees. Her hair is damp and clinging to her scalp. I steer my thoughts away
from how cute she looks, half-dressed and barefoot.

Maggie glances down at herself ruefully. “It’s
kinda
big.”


Kinda
,” I tease and my smile
grows bigger when I see her mouth curve.

“I don’t even need the shorts.”

Don’t think about it.
Don’t, Rowan.

Too late.

The image of her naked under my shirt has an instant effect
on my dick and I force myself to turn away from her, wrestling my body under
control.
Stupid fuck.
I drain my
glass in one gulp before I glance back at her. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Are you hungry?” I try to think if I have anything in my
cupboards and fridge. As a bachelor, I eat out most of the time, but maybe I
can scrounge up something for a sandwich.

She shakes her head, her untamed curls dancing around her
shoulders.

“How are your shoulders and hips?”

She circles her shoulders and I watch her expression closely
to detect if she’s in pain.
 
At her
wince, my face tightens.

“Much better after a hot shower.”

“Have a seat. I’m going to grab some ibuprofen. It’s going
to hurt worse tomorrow.” Guiding her to the living room, I wait until she sits
down on the sofa and then I run to the upstairs bathroom to grab the painkillers
and the first aid kit. When I return, her eyes are already at half-mast with
exhaustion. I hand her a glass of water and two pills.

“Here, take these,” I say gently, seating myself next to
her. My weight indents the sofa and she slides closer to me.

She no longer smells like cinnamon and sugar. Her naturally
sweet fragrance is overlaid with the scent of the shampoo and shower gel I use.
Our combined scent stirs something primal in me and my thoughts take a
dangerously possessive turn.

After she swallows the pills, she tilts her face to me, her
green eyes huge and shadowed. My thumb brushes against her left cheek. The
other side is slightly swollen and I ache looking at it. “I’m going to put some
antibiotic cream on your face and hands, okay?”

“Okay.” Like a trusting child, she holds out her hands, palms
up, to me.

The sight of the red scrapes sends renewed fury through my
blood, but I hold myself in check and carefully apply the cream to the
abrasions. Then I wrap her hands lightly in gauze to protect her palms, leaving
her fingers free. Taking a dab of the antibiotic, I smear it on her cheek,
trying to be as gentle as possible.

“All done,” I say, throwing the tube back into the kit. “Are
you ready to turn in?”

“Can we talk for a little bit?” she asks shyly.

Seeing her tired eyes, I want to argue, but I recognize the
need for human contact in her face. After not seeing her for weeks and then witnessing
her attack, I need it as badly as she does. Without giving it a second thought,
I pick her up and place her on my lap and my whole body sighs in relief.

Maggie doesn’t fight me. Her head nestles into my shoulder
and her curves soften into my body. Like two pieces of a puzzle, we fit
perfectly. I close my eyes, savoring her sweet weight. This is where she
belongs. In the background, desire simmers, but I hold it off, wanting to enjoy
her warmth, needing to know she’s safe in my arms.

I touch the back of her head, mindful of her sore scalp.
“How’s your head?”

A soft nod against my chest.
“It’s
okay. Tender, but no lasting damage.”

“Want to talk about tonight?”

Negative shake.

“What do you want to talk about? BDSM?” I tease.

At her giggle, I feel like I’ve climbed Mt. Everest. Her
finger plucks at my shirt and she asks, “Why did you want to see me tonight?”

I glance down, but she’s examining the fabric of my t-shirt
like there’s a secret code hidden in the fibers.
 
I dip my head until our eyes lock.

“Are you dating Cory Michaels?” I hold my breath, wondering
what I would do if she says yes. After the call earlier tonight, I felt like I
was going out of my mind at the thought of her being with another man.

“Why are you asking?” she mumbles, her eyes dropping under
my steady gaze.

I tip her chin up. “Are you?” She hesitates and I feel
pressure build up in my chest.

She shakes her head, and whispers, “No. We’re just friends.
We went out on one date, but that was it.”

My breath releases in a long sough.
Thank fuck.
“You said you were going to the theater with him?”

“It was going to be a group of us. Cory and I…I don’t feel
that way about him.” Her gaze is unwavering, green eyes like bright gems. “Why
does it matter to you?” she asks, a demanding tone in her voice.

Buying time, I raise my hand and brush my fingertips across
her freckles. The words are on the tip of my tongue, but they don’t want to
drop from my mouth. When her eyes lower self-consciously, I tap on her chin to
draw her gaze back to me. I take a deep breath and take the first step on the
tightrope, knowing there’s no safety net below. “It matters. I don’t want you
to date anyone else.”

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