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S haking his head, Knight started down the stairs, then stopped. The hurt expression on her face when he asked the question cut him to the core. Why in the fuck did he even say it? Because she fought him every step of the way to keep him from bringing her here. Then, she refused to let him in.

He glanced back at the door and watched two rough-appearing men emerge from one of the apartments below. If they decided to hurt Gabby, she didn’t stand a chance and he refused to leave his wife in this dump.

He stomped back to her apartment and knocked when he heard a stifled cry.

Fear bolted through him, thinking someone hurt her and he flung open the door.

Surprise made him halt. The rooms appeared in shambles. Gabby didn’t appear in sight as he desperately scanned the run-down apartment and saw the couch cushions shredded and all the damage. When his eyes landed on her, he rushed toward her, concerned for her safety. She seemed terrorized as he approached her. When she scrambled away from him, it nearly tore his heart in two, especially when she cut her hand on the broken glass.

She softly closed the door behind her and turned to see her entire apartment in ruins. The curtains hung at a weird angle. The sofa appeared slit in several places, with stuffing covering the dingy carpet. Pictures lay smashed, and her clothes dumped all over the floor.

Gabby covered her mouth in shock as she viewed the broken dishes. Tears welled up in her eyes. How much could a girl take in one day? She ran to her hiding place, where she hid her home computer and gave a little cry. The rotted cabinets held a wooden bottom out of a crate she brought home. She left the computer in there and placed her pans on top.

She started pulling out the cookware and lifting the box and sighed with relief when she glimpsed the laptop computer.

The door burst open and Knight scanned the room until his eyes landed on hers.

He slammed it shut as he walked around the miniature table she used in the kitchen and approached her. His expression told her of his fury, and Gabby cried out as she attempted to back up and cut her hand on a piece of glass.

“Shit,” Knight muttered as he grabbed her hand and searched for a towel. Helping her to her feet. He took the computerand set it on the table. Running water in the sink, he held her hand under it. With her injured shoulder, she dared not jerk away from him.

She whimpered as the cut stung as he pulled pieces of the glass from her hand. Then wrapped a towel around it.

“Damn it, Gabrielle. Something’s going on here and I’m not leaving until I have some answers,” Knight demanded. He searched for a chair, but whoever entered her apartment broke the only two.

“What the hell is going on?”

Gabby placed her hand on her stomach. “I live here,” she confessed.

Knight scanned the destroyed room and his eyes met hers.

“We’ll talk about this later. Tell me what you need and we’re leaving.”

“I’m not?—”

“You are even if I have to carry you out of here fireman’s style. This isn’t up for discussion. It’s the last time you lie to me,” his voice turned deadly.

Gabby moved about the room and searched for her suitcase. She found it shredded to pieces.

Her legs trembled as she hung on to the back of the couch, trying to devise a plan when she wanted to run into the safety of his arms.

“Fuck this,” he cursed as he stalked toward her. He scooped a reusable grocery bag from the floor, placed her hospital paperwork in it, grabbed the computer from the table, and handed it to her. He gently picked her up and walked out the door.

Knight felt her tremble as he held her before she laid her head on his shoulder and cried. Anger flowed as he listened to her sniffles. Gabrielle rarely wept. Whatever happened frightened her to the core.

He set her beside the truck, scanned the area, opened the door, and lifted her inside.

When he got in the driver’s seat, Gabrielle shivered. He turned the heat up, leaned over to buckle her in and covered her with his jacket as well.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he pulled onto the street.

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“I can’t go to California,” she said desperately.

“Good, because I don’t live there. I’m renting a condo in Seattle,” Knight informed her.

“I’m not staying at your place.” Gabby’s mouth firmed. “Take me to a hotel.”

“I’m not dropping you off like a piece of baggage. Tell me what happened back there,” he demanded.

“Please, Marcus. I can’t… go to your place. We’re divorced. I don’t want to fight about this. I’m tired, hurt like hell, and I’m starving. If you can take me to a pharmacy, I can fill the prescriptions and get out of your hair,” she pleaded.

Knight pulled to the side of the road, slammed the truck into park, and turned toward her.

“Gabrielle. You scared the shit out of me when I received the call about your car accident. I don’t give a damn if we’re getting a divorce, it doesn’t mean I…I want to see you hurt.”

Only if you’re the one doing it . “I’m not staying at your place. I don’t want to see where you live, or why you’re here,” she burst out.

“Fine. Maybe we’ll think more rationally if we get some food in you. We’ll pick up the meds, get something to eat, and figure it out,” he rationalized.

Gabby’s eyes seemed to glow red. “There isn’t a ‘we,’ Marcus. It’s me.”

She leaned her head against the window. All the fight left her between the pain, shock of the apartment and arguing with him. She didn’t have the strength to keep up a brave front. Someone tried to kill her. She refused to confide in her soon-to-be ex.

Knight put the truck in drive and pulled into a drive-thru pharmacy while she rummaged through her purse for her insurance card. She handed it to him and he grimaced when he saw the blood soaking through the towel from her hand.

“We need to take care of your hand,” he said gently. “What can you eat?”

“Tacos. I don’t want to sit ina restaurant and deal with people staring at me.” She smoothed the coat over her bump.

“Right. Tacos.” He used the GPS to search for a local Mexican restaurant. If Gabby wanted tacos, he refused to get her garbage when she ate for two. “It’ll take thirty minutes to fill the scripts. I’ll run in and grab the food and we’ll eat in the truck. What do you want?” he asked.

“Six tacos. No sour cream and a side of pico and guacamole if they have it. Beef, please.” Gabby pulled her wallet out as he called in the order.

He pulled into the parking spot where he could keep an eye on her. “It’ll be ready in five minutes. Will you be here when I return if I leave you in the truck?” he asked worriedly.

Gabby sighed. “I don’t have the energy to run. Wait until I eat and then I’ll think about it.”

Knight smirked as he exited the truck and ran inside the restaurant. Watching Gabby, he paid for the food and asked for silverware, two waters and a large milk. Jogging back to the truck, he handed over the bag as he got in.

Gabby leaned over the bag and inhaled deeply. Her eyes glazed over as he handed her the drinks. He pulled out the containers and gave her the food. She opened it while he placed the container of pico on the dashboard with a side of guacamole. Gabby dug in. He watched as she finished her second taco before he even started eating. She licked her fingers, sighed as she dumped the pico on top of another, and scooped out the guacamole.

Gabby closed her eyes and sipped the milk when she downed the fourth taco. Knight didn’t know whether to feel in awe of her newly acquired eating habit or a bit worried she demolished the food so fast. Not wanting to make her self-conscious or upset, he stayed quiet while she ate.

Gabby tilted her head back and relished the last bit of the sixth taco and sighed, deeply satisfied. She sipped the milk until it reached the bottom of the cup, yawned and laid back against the seat.

“Your meds will be ready in a few minutes.”

Gabby struggled to sit up and grabbed her wallet. “Right. What do I owe you for my portion of the meal?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured sarcastically.

“I don’t want to take more than my half,” she insisted.

Knight ran his hand along his scruff. “Can we keep to the truce?”

“Thank you,” she responded as she gazed at him suspiciously.

“We need to discuss this, Gabby. I did the math.” He nodded toward her stomach. “This baby could be mine or the other man’s, the one I found in our bedroom. I don’t want to stress you more, but I need to know. Of course, if the baby’s mine, I want to be involved in its life,” he reassured her. “You know I’ll never abandon my child. And I’m sure as hell not allowing you to put it in danger.”