Page 26 of Savior
“I think it’s time for you to go now,” she says and starts to close the door. When I stop it with my foot, she sends me a fierce look. “You really need to stop.”
“I want to know what you’re hiding and don’t give me any of that bullshit. There’s a reason why a woman carries a gun on her. If you’re in trouble, I can help you.”
“Am I doing something illegal?” she asks with forced calm.
“Are you running from something?”
“Isn’t everyone?” she counters smoothly. “Besides, you should know better than anyone that there’s evil in this world. I’m a single woman in a new place. Why wouldn’t I protect myself?” Before I can say anything else, she says, “I am no threat for your family, Logan. I just came here for peace and quiet, and I have a right to do so. Now, if there’s nothing else you need, I’d like for you to go now.”
“You’d tell me if you were in any trouble, right?” Even as I ask, I already know the answer.
She takes a step back, and I wonder if she’s distancing herself from me or from the question. “There’s no need for you to come and rescue me. I’m not a damsel in need of saving.”
Realizing I won’t get any further with her tonight, I move my foot and she closes the screen door between us. “Well, we both know I’m hardly chivalrous.”
The cell on my belt interrupts her response and she closes her mouth.
“Blackwell,” I say to the caller.
Our dispatcher Eileen answers, her voice brusque and efficient. “261A at Lawson’s Park. Victim is responsive. Suspect left on foot and may still be in the area.”
“Be there in ten.”
I look to Sienna, whose face has gone white. “Go,” she says. “Hurry.”
I don’t ask how she knew it was a serious call, or why she looked like she’d seen death because there isn’t any time. I make a mental reminder to check back in on her as I dive into my truck and spin out of the driveway.
On the way, I get additional details from Eileen. According to the victim, the suspect has already left the scene and emergency medical services are en route. All fatigue drains away as adrenaline spurts into my blood. Sirens flashing, I speed through what little traffic there is at this time of night and make it to the park in five minutes flat. My thumb drums against the wheel as I scan the nearby sidewalks for the victim, finally spotting her sitting on the curb half hidden in shadows.
I throw the gear into park and surge from the truck. The woman is pretty and can’t be older than twenty, but when she sees me, she seems to shrink into herself—the movement making her look younger. I pause and makes sure to keep my hands loose by my side.
“I’m Officer Blackwell with the Nassau County Sheriff’s Department. I’m going to reach for my badge.” When she doesn’t object, I move slowly to my back pocket and pull it out for her to see. “What’s your name?”
Her wide eyes don’t seem to take in anything I’m saying, but when I hazard a step forward, she doesn’t back away. I take another.
“Are you hurt?” I say softly. “Do you need medical attention?”
When I’m within touching distance, her eyes focus on me, and she whispers, “F-Faith Gallagher,” in a broken voice.
“Faith, I’m here to help you. You’re safe now.”
After a few moments she steps to me, and wrap my arm around her to lead her to the tailgate of my truck. I lower it so she has a place to sit and then quickly grab a blanket I keep in the cab. She’s shivering when I wrap it around her, and I scan the surrounding streets for any sign of the ambulance. The girl is going into shock. I speak words of comfort as the adrenaline gives way to shock. I tell her everything is going to be okay.
What’s more important is what I don’t say.
I don’t tell her the nightmare is just beginning.
Piper
After Logan leaves, I can’t seem to find a comfortable position to sleep. I twist and turn until four a.m. before I finally give up on sleep and move to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. Might as well get the day started if my brain won’t shut off. Anything will be better than positing different scenarios with the one man I should be avoiding.
I fill up the water reservoir and select my single serving of chai latte. As it percolates, curiosity gets the better of me, and I peer through the window over my sink that looks into Logan’s kitchen, a mirror image of mine. The windows are dark and his driveway is still empty. I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I couldn’t go to sleep because he hadn’t come back. I wanted to hear the growl of his truck or the roar of his motorcycle coming down the drive to let me know he’s okay.
After he left, fear clenched my belly so tight that I had to sit under the scalding spray in the shower until the water ran cold to get myself to calm down. I shouldn’t have listened, but I couldn’t help but overhear the attempted rape call and be thrown back into my own living nightmares.
I distract myself by belting a robe and stepping out into the cool morning. I’d started a small vegetable garden off my back porch, something I’d always dreamed of doing. Tending it, according to one of the many therapists I was forced to talk to, encouraging the little sprouts to grow is supposed to help me process the losses I’d experienced. I thought he was full of shit, but nothing else has worked and a couple plants won’t take much time.
So one of the first things I did after I got settled and received my first paycheck was borrow Diane’s car to go to the local hardware store chain to pick up seeds. After consulting with a gardening associate, I settled on broccoli, cauliflower, lettuce, carrots, and spinach for a nice fall garden. If I am still wracked with loss at the end of it, at least I’d have a salad to drown my sorrows.