Outlaw (6 page)

The officer folded his arms. “Take it or leave it.”

Cole blew out a breath, and shook his head. His eyes
slid to Angel. Time to find out which way she was
gonna
roll. “Okay. Fine.”

They walked back over to her.

“Angel, this is Sheriff Starks. He wants to ask you
a few questions,” Cole explained.

She saw the look Cole was giving her, and knew she
better not say the wrong thing. She nodded. “Okay.” Then she tipped her head to
Sheriff Starks. “Officer.”

“Ma’am.” He tipped his head in return. “You want to
tell me what happened?”

Angel’s eyes darted to Cole.

Starks didn’t miss the exchange.

“I, uh, I met this guy. Turns out he was kind of an
asshole. Cole, he, uh, persuaded him that our relationship was over. Got me
away from him. I owe him for that.”

Starks looked from her to Cole. He asked her,
“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna tell me?”

She shrugged, “That’s all there was to it. Thanks
for getting the cuffs off me. It’s kind of embarrassing. The asshole lost the
keys. I guess that was a stupid idea. You know how these sex games are.
Sometimes you don’t think it through.”

Cole fought back a laugh, and Starks glared at him.

“Everything’s fine now. Really,” she insisted.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to see you get home?”

Cole stepped in. “I’ll get her home.” He held up his
hand, as if taking a pledge. “Boy Scouts honor.”

Starks scoffed. “You were never a Boy Scout.”

Cole smiled.

“I’ll be fine,” Angel assured him.

Starks threw his hands up, turning to walk away. But
before he did, he leaned in close to Cole’s ear, and Angel heard him whisper,
“I hope to God one day you come across a woman that ain’t gonna cover for your
ass.” Then he glared Cole in the eyes, turned, and walked away.

Cole watched him get in his cruiser and pull out,
and then he turned to Angel, his eyes studying her face. “You did real good,
babe.”

Angel was watching Starks drive away. “He looks kind
of like a weasel, doesn’t he?”

Cole tried to hide his grin. “Yeah, but he’s our
weasel, so it’s all good, darlin’.”

The corner of her mouth pulled up in the barest of
smiles.

“Sex games, huh? Sounds like fun,” he teased, with a
wink.

She raised her eyebrows, giving him a look.

“I’m kidding,” he smiled. “Come on.” He put his arm
around her neck, and led her across the lot toward the entrance to the
building. Some of the guys called to him. He raised his arm in greeting, but
kept on walking. He held the door for Angel, and followed her inside.

She 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
duct work
hanging form 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, and pulled up the chair from the
desk, and sat in front of her. He opened a bottle of aspirin, 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.

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

“The bruising is awful, but you’ll live,” Colt
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. He struggled to find the words
to tell her how sorry he was for all that had happened to her.

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 softly, 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.

She tried to pull herself together, but it felt so
good to be held.

“Shh. You’re gonna be alright. 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 at him, it 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.

She looked up at him with big eyes swimming 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.” She stopped him again.

“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.

They locked eyes.

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 affect
on him.

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

He walked out, and she heard him lock the bolt.

Angel stood up, and walked into the bathroom. There
was a shower stall with an old, plastic shower curtain, yellowed from age. She
pulled it back, and looked inside. It was surprisingly clean. There was a bar
of soap and a bottle of shampoo.

She turned on the water, and adjusted the
temperature. Soon the steam was rising. Peeling her clothes off, she stepped
inside. Cole was right. The hot water felt so good, the warmth soothing her
aching body. The cuts on her wrists stung when the soap got on them, and she
was reminded what happened with each bruised area she touched with the bar of
soap.

She stood with the hot water pouring over her, and
the tears began to fall again. She let it all out, until finally there weren’t
any tears left. Then she took a deep breath, picked up the shampoo bottle,
poured some in her palm, and washed her hair, vowing that would be the last
time she’d let herself break down.

Finally, when the hot water started to run out, she
turned it off, and stepped out. She wrapped a towel around her, and took
another one to dry her hair. Stepping out of the bathroom, she ran the second
towel over her hair, squeezing out the excess.

She stopped short.

Cole was stretched out on the bed propped against
the headboard. He looked lost in thought until he turned, and looked at her.

Had he heard her crying again, she wondered.

His eyes ran over her. “I brought food.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Cole sat up, and reached for the white bags of fast
food. “The all American meal. Burgers and fries.”

“Smells great. I’m starved.”

He got up, and walked over to the dresser. Opening a
drawer, he pulled out an old tee shirt, and held it out to her. “Here.”

She reached out, and took it, and went back into the
bathroom to get dressed.

When she came back out, he had turned the desk chair
around to face the bed, and was eating a burger. She sat on the bed, and pulled
a burger out of the bag.

They ate quietly.

He finished, crumpled up his wrapper, and tossed it
on the nightstand. Then he leaned back in the swivel chair, and sat watching
her eat. “There’s another one in the bag, if you’re still hungry.”

She shook her head.

He sat staring at her.

“Now what happens?” she finally got the courage to
ask.