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“ROG!” I scream needing to know he’s okay.
“You hit baby?”—
“N-no. A-a-r-e you?”
“No. You stuttering again babe? Kinda like the day we first met, huh?” He tries to joke, coming into view.
On a sob, my arms wrap around his neck, “I-I’m cold Rog, so cold.”
“Don’t look baby,” he pulls back, cupping my face, “only look at me.”
“Is it Federico or Toad?”
“No, baby. It’s done. Finished.”
“I-I need to see. He threatened to do things—”
“I know, sugar. But don’t look,” he grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I don’t want you seeing things, you can’t un-see.”
“Okay,” I answer, trusting him. Knowing he’s right.
“We need to get you home and out of the rain. Dev—you were never here. You spent the night with me. Got it?”
“Y-yes,” I answer determined to prove my loyalty to him—to Creed.
He lifts me into his arms, carries me to Federico’s truck parked behind us. He folds me inside, “I’ll be right back.”
I hear him telling Federico to “call it in,” before he rounds the hood and climbs in the driver’s side.
The heat blasts through the vents as I cuddle up to his side. He’s just as wet as I am but the body heat coming off his muscular body soothes me.
“Dev? DEV! DEV! Don’t you dare fall asleep. You have hypothermia, babe. Hold on. I’ll get you home and take care of you, love.”
My hands clutch his soaked shirt. “How can you see?”
“I know these roads, like I know every curve of your body. We’ll be home in no time.”
“Home? That word with you sounds so good.”
“Yeah,” he answers gruffly placing a brawny hand on my naked thigh. “Christ, Dev. No underwear?”
“I was in the shower when he broke in.”
“That motherfucker,” Rog’s hands clench the wheel, “did he touch you, sugar?”
“No. I was able to get away and barricade myself in the bedroom. I climbed out the window and went across the roof to the other side and was able to get down to the porch.”
His eyes flit over to me, “Goddamn, you were made for me, woman.” His eyes fill with heat and pride, my fingers laced in his; despite almost being killed—today feels like a new beginning for us both.
The truck sticks and slides, bumps, and swerves but somehow, we make it down a long drive through the woods to a clearing where a log cabin sits next to a pond. Trees have fallen all around us but none on the house.
Rog parks under a portico and before my frozen hands can even reach for the door handle he’s there lifting me in his arms and carrying me up the stairs inside.
We’re soaking wet and freezing, the adrenaline that coursed through our blood still there, but fading.
He strips his soggy clothes off and reaches for me. Taking me by the hand, he kneels in front of a large hearth and makes a fire. “Take your shirt off, Dev. We both need to raise our body temps.”
“I can’t. My arms don’t seem to work.” I tried to lift them, but they feel heavy and weak.