CHAPTER 13
DREW
The apartment was modern and clean, with thick carpet in a creamy shade, a large well-lit kitchen that appeared to be full of state-of-the-art, stainless steel appliances, which opened into an adjoining dining area and large family room. A decent size grey leather sectional sofa sat before a wall-mounted flat screen TV and glass coffee table.
“Two bedrooms,” Dillon explained as he led us down a short hallway.
Glancing over Lola’s shoulder, I took in the room she had entered. It was a comfortable size with a king bed, side tables, and grey black-out curtains pulled across one wall. Peeking behind the curtains, I found wall to floor windows.
“Bullet proof,” Larz murmured from beside me.
I nodded in approval and slid open a door which revealed a large closet space for clothing.
“The second bedroom is right beside this one,” Dillon announced, leaving the room, and I followed him into the next room which was a mirror of the one we had just been in. “There’s only one bathroom,” he pointed across the hall.
Flicking on a switch, the pale, grey tiled bathroom lit up, exposing an enormous shower stall. The toilet sat to one side, and a large mirror stretched along the wall opposite it with a wide, black countertop and black cabinets beneath it. Two glossy black sinks sat along its top.
“There are basic necessities in here: toothpaste, soap, shampoo. Mercy went shopping for you today; she’s got some bags she’ll deliver tomorrow.” Dillon glanced at his watch. “I mean today.”
Looking to my own watch I realized it was one in the morning. I peered over my shoulder and realized Lola was no longer with us.
“I didn’t ask, but I assume you’ll be staying? If not, Mercy has offered to spend time here with Lola, so she’s not alone.”
Of course I was staying. There was no way I was leaving her unprotected, even as secure as the apartment was. Rather than declare that out loud, I simply nodded and grunted, “I’m staying.”
Larz stood in the small hallway and nodded towards the first bedroom we had stepped in. A quick look in the room found Lola sitting on the side of the bed, her gaze set on a black and white picture of a long, straight stretch of dirt road, surrounded by thick fir trees, rising high up into the sky full of dark, turbulent clouds. It was one of Braiden’s photos; the office downstairs was full of his pictures.
“Kitchen is full. If there is anything else you need just let me know.”
Dillon patted my shoulder as he and Larz walked back down towards the living and dining area. Following them, I raised my hand to run over my tired eyes, only to feel a sharp pain burning at my shoulder, reminding me I had been shot.
Dillon handed me a piece of paper. “Passcode entry for the door into the apartment and access into the street is the same. You’ll need the fob.” He handed me a tear shaped plastic piece about the size of a fifty-cent coin. “Just flash that in front of the panel and enter the code. I still need to grab a second fob so you each have one. I’ll see you down in the office when you get up. We need to talk about things.”
I nodded again, and my head felt heavier. Exhaustion was beginning to creep up on me.
“I’ll run downstairs and grab the first aid kit. Don't fall asleep while I’m gone.” Larz chuckled, following Dillon out of the apartment, allowing the door to close with a resounding click.
We were alone, and the silence was welcome. My head banged away, throbbing in time with the low hum that came from the heater. Flicking on the switch to the kettle, I stepped back down the short hallway and stood in the doorway to Lola’s room. Her eyes were still on the black and white photo.
“It’s Braiden’s; he likes to take photos,” I explained, and she remained still. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
She shook her head.
“Why don’t you take a shower?”
She nodded, her hand absently running up and down her forearm.
“Are you staying?” she finally asked.
“Yeah, that okay?”
Lola slowly stood and turned to face me, her eyes full of fatigue and a whole lot of sadness. “It’s fine. I trust you.”
Her words caused blossoming warmth to fill my chest. As she stepped past me and into the hallway, I turned and headed for the kitchen, pausing when I heard my name. I glanced over my shoulder.
“Thank you.” And with that, she stepped into the bathroom, the door closing and the ominous click of the lock signaling the end of a crazy forty-eight hours.
The despair in Lola’s gaze made the blossoming warmth I had felt a moment before turn to ice. It was a look I had seen before, that look of loss and hopelessness. I’d seen that look on plenty of people in the past, but it didn’t affect me the same as it did seeing it on Lola. She’d been a pillar of strength the entire time we’d been running, and now we’d stopped, it was as if all that strength bled from her body, leaving behind a girl who may not have been broken, but the cracks were damn well showing.
A gentle knock on the apartment door drew my attention back into the living area. I knew it was Larz, but even so, years of training and two days of running had me err on the side of caution. Checking the peep hole, I almost smiled at Larz’s grinning face on the other side. I pulled the door open, and he stepped inside with a bag full of medical supplies.
“Coffee?” I asked, moving to the kitchen to make myself a cup.
Larz chuckled. “At one thirty in the morning? No thanks.”
With a steaming hot mug in my hand, filling the apartment with the aroma of life, I sat down at the dining table and removed my shirt. Larz carefully pulled back the dressing.
“Nice,” Larz commented from behind me. “Let’s clean her up first, then we can see how many stitches you win for your efforts today.”
All I could manage was a grunt. Exhaustion pulled at every muscle, and the thought of a hot shower and warm bed lulled my body into a relaxed state which would more than likely see me pass out sooner rather than later, even with the caffeine running through my veins.
“How’s Lola?” Larz asked, holding gauze under my wound as he used an anti-bacterial spray to re-clean the area.
“She’s holding up well. Maybe a little quiet, but she’s exhausted.”
“Hmmmm,” Larz said thoughtfully. “Em was quiet for a long time. Quiet isn’t always good; it allows them to get lost in their thoughts.”
“How did you get Em out of her thoughts?”
Emily Donovan’s story wasn’t a secret. Forced into a world of sexual slavery, Braiden had brought her back from the devil himself, and Larz had been her proverbial shadow for those first six months after she returned home.
“She was getting therapy. She didn’t want it, and at the time, she would tell you she’d rather stick a fork in her eye than go, but it helped.”
It occurred to me I didn’t know if Lola had talked to a therapist; it would be something I’d find out soon.
“If Lola needs it, Mercy and David have a group session once every two weeks down at the shelter for survivors of sexual abuse. Maybe you should mention it to Lola, let her think on it a while.”
I didn’t answer even though I thought it was a great idea. Instead, I focused on the discomfort of my wound being poked and prodded.
“Anesthesia,” Larz mumbled before I felt the slight sting of a needle. “One thing I learned from Em, she doesn’t need pity. Don’t go feeling sorry for her or treating her like glass. She’ll be more comfortable if you’re not looking at her like you expect her to break every minute, and wipe that look off your face.”
“What look?” I balked, wincing as Larz got a little heavy handed with my wound.
“That pissed off look, like you wanna eat a kitten or somethin’. She needs your strength, not your anger.”
“I don’t want to eat a fucking kitten.”
“All you can do is be there for her when she needs someone to lean on,” Larz continued, ignoring me. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. It's the same way Braiden looks at Em, the same way Dillon looks at Annie.”
“I don’t—”
“You start off small, helping her find her way through each day, and eventually you’ll help her find her way into a better future,” he continued, cutting me off this time. “That cut on your bicep is shallow, it don’t need stichin’.”
The relentless man finally went quiet as he cleaned the shallow knife wound and wrapped a dressing around it.
“Four stitches, just a baby,” he said as he finished up.
“Thanks, Dr. Phil, you can put your man pants back on and fuck off now.”
Larz laughed, a deep belly laugh that reminded me of the times I once shared with my brothers.
“Does it hurt?”
We both went silent at the sound of Lola’s voice coming from the hallway, and I silently cringed, hoping she hadn’t heard Larz and me talking about her.
“Trust me, darlin’, kicking a toe would hurt more. This is nothin’.” Larz had a way of making everything seem okay. “If he tries to tell you otherwise, he’s fishin’ for sympathy he don’t need.”
Lola didn’t look convinced, her furrowed brow and disbelieving gaze set on Larz.
“I’m okay. Might ache a little once the anesthesia wears off, but it won’t bother me,” I said truthfully.
Biting on her bottom lip with her arms wrapped low around her stomach, she gave a nod.
“Do I need to check out any scrapes or bumps on you?” Larz asked Lola as he packed up his bag.
“No, Drew wouldn’t let me get a single one.”
Larz smiled and moved towards the apartment door. “Sounds about right. He won’t even let Max walk around when he’s out and about, just in case he trips himself up on those short, stumpy legs.” With a nod to both of us, Larz left.
“Where is he?” Lola asked, her gaze dropping to my chest. Her cheeks filled with a pink hue and I tried not to flex my pecs like a peacock. Instead, I stood and pulled on my bloody shirt.
“Who?”
“Max.”
“Annie and Dillon have him. Eli’s become a little attached. He’s the official dog sitter.”
Washing my now empty coffee mug, I discreetly watched Lola as she rubbed the back of her calf with her opposite foot, her arms folded. She was wearing loose fitting sweats and a baggy shirt. I hoped there was something clean for me to change into.
“Why don’t you try and get some sleep?” I suggested.
The moment felt awkward. This was the first time we had been alone, and we weren’t running for our lives. With Lola safe, the fact we were staying in the same apartment together felt more intimate.
I wasn’t sure if Lola needed something, or if she was simply too wired to sleep. She nodded, though, and with a hesitant backward glance, she headed down the short hallway and disappeared into her room. The door quietly closing and the snick of a lock echoed loudly in the quiet apartment.