Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
July 23 rd
12:24 A.M.
Knock, knock, knock.
Cole bolted upright in bed the second he heard someone hammering on his door.
Not again .
Fear for Susanna had him lunging out of bed and snatching up his weapon before he dashed down the hall.
Had her attacker come back?
All day, he’d been worrying about his neighbor even though he’d done his best to pretend to everyone—including himself—that he wasn't. After about an hour or so this morning, he’d finally convinced his siblings that they could go home, that he was tired and wanted to go to bed.
Which he’d done.
Lying in bed wasn't the problem, it was sleeping that turned out to be next to impossible.
Knowing Susanna was in the hospital, reliving her trauma, being poked and prodded, meant he couldn’t relax enough to fall asleep. He’d eventually given up trying before the sun rose, and instead threw himself into research on his mom’s case.
It wasn't enough to keep thoughts of Susanna at bay.
For almost twenty years he and his siblings had thought of little else but proving his mom and Jake and Jax’s dad were innocent. It had always been an all-consuming need.
Except for yesterday.
Images of Susanna constantly bombarded his mind, a distraction he didn't need, but couldn’t seem to get a handle on.
If Susanna had been attacked again, there was no way he’d be able to step back like he’d been trying to do. Even though he’d been tempted a dozen times over to go to her apartment and check in on her, see if she was there, and if she needed anything, he’d resisted because he was trying to respect her wishes and she’d told him to leave at the hospital this morning.
Staying away would be impossible if she’d been assaulted all over again.
He threw open his front door without bothering to check who was on the other side or being even the tiniest bit cautious.
Standing on the other side was Susanna. Dressed in a pair of black leggings and a lavender oversized sweater that hung off one shoulder, she had her arms wrapped around her middle and was staring at him with wide, fearful eyes.
“You okay? Are you hurt?” he demanded, harsher than he’d intended, but his heart was hammering in his chest as he scanned the hall behind her, not spotting anything.
With her teeth chattering and fine tremors wracking her body, Susanna shook her head.
“What happened?” he asked, a little gentler this time as he did a visual scan of her body. There was no blood that he could see, and no fresh bruises—although the ones from last night had grown darker in the hours since he’d left her hospital room—but it was more than obvious that Susanna was spooked.
When she just continued to stare at him, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her into his apartment. Once he’d closed and locked the door behind him, Cole set his gun on the coffee table and gestured to Susanna that she should sit. It was clear she was in shock. Maybe she’d had nightmares, or maybe she’d heard from her assailant, whatever the cause, he needed to get her warm and calmed down so he could figure out what the problem was.
He couldn’t fix what he didn't know, and he was overcome with the need to fix whatever the problem was so he could somehow make up for treating her so badly these last few years.
“Sit, sprinkles,” he said softly, nudging her toward his couch.
Just like he’d hoped, the nickname she hated cleared a little of the cloudy shock from her eyes, and she narrowed them at him. “You know I hate that name.” She huffed. It was half-hearted at best but better than what she’d been giving him a moment ago.
“I know,” he shot back with a shrug, but he let amusement dance in his eyes so she’d know he was just teasing her.
A one-sided curl of her lips into something vaguely resembling a smile was all he got in return, but at least he could see that she was trying to pull herself together. When she crossed to his couch and dropped down onto it, he picked up a throw and tossed it to her so she could try to warm herself.
“Tea or coffee?”
“Umm … tea?”
“You asking me or telling me, sprinkles?”
“Telling you. Tea please,” she repeated.
“Be right back,” he said as he headed for the kitchen. It didn't take him long to make some tea. Luckily, he had some in his pantry. While he never drank the stuff, Cassandra was obsessed and loved all the different flavor variations, so he always kept his kitchen well stocked for when his baby sister visited.
Once he’d made Susanna’s tea and his coffee, he returned to the living room to find his guest curled up in a corner of the sofa with the blanket wrapped around her. Her eyes were open but staring vacantly at the wall, and she didn't seem to have realized he’d returned.
Cole wasn't used to seeing his sparring partner so vulnerable-looking. While she always took whatever he threw at her and tossed something right back at him, she never did it with the same level of anger he’d always used.
Damn.
If he could take back the last few years he absolutely would.
To be honest, he was shocked she could even look at him, let alone come to him when it was obvious she was scared and spooked.
“Here,” he said a little gruffly, but too many emotions raged inside him and he couldn’t process them all quickly enough.
“Thanks,” Susanna whispered. One pale hand slipped out from her blanket cocoon to take the mug. It trembled slightly, and he was worried she was going to spill some on herself, but when she gave a content sigh and took a sip of the hot liquid he smiled and sat opposite her, pleased he’d been able to help in some small way.
“Susanna, look, I owe you an apology,” he announced, wanting to get it out in the open.
Clearly surprised, her gaze whipped up to meet his.
“I had an ex who cheated on me and took money to go on dates with guys. You look a little like her. I never confronted her, I just packed up and left when I found out. I took out those unresolved feelings on you. That makes me a jerk. You did nothing to deserve that, and I feel like a fool now I know how hard you work to help others. I judged you based on your name and my own past experiences, that’s not cool. I'm sorry. I don’t expect your forgiveness, but I wanted you to know.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly, allowing her gaze to drop to the cup she held clutched between her hands.
“It’s not,” he corrected, feeling that Susanna was used to taking whatever people gave her and just accepting it.
For some reason that made him angry.
What had happened in her past that made her think she wasn't worth being treated with decent human respect?
Her gaze darted up again to meet his. For a long moment, she said nothing, just studied him, and he wondered what she was searching for and if she found it.
In the end, she gave a small shrug and a nod. “Apology accepted.”
Wishing she’d open up to him so he could understand how she could just brush off what he’d done, but knowing he had no right to want that, Cole instead tried to focus on what had brought Susanna to his apartment in the middle of the night.
“Are you okay, sprinkles? Are you safe?” He wasn't sure if she knew who had assaulted her, or at least had suspicions. He had seen men coming and going from her apartment at all hours, and while he knew now they must be her patients, it didn't mean one of them hadn't hurt her.
Susanna trembled, leaning over to set the mug on the coffee table. When she looked over at him there was unhidden terror in her gaze. “I … I didn't remember at first,” she stammered.
“It’s okay, you were in shock, had just been through a horrific ordeal, and you had a head injury. Did you get some of your memories back?”
She gave a jerky nod. “I had a dream but … it was more flashback. He said something to me.”
“What did he say?” There had to be a reason she was there when she could have called one of her friends. Only what that reason could be Cole had zero idea.
“He said, ‘ Tell your neighbor boyfriend to back off or he won't like the consequences.’ I think that he thinks you and I are a couple and that hurting me would get to you,” Susanna told him with more gentleness than he deserved.
Was it possible this had to do with Tarek Mahmoud and what they’d learned in Egypt about his mom?
Was he responsible for Susanna being raped and beaten?
Was someone using her to send a message to him and his family to back off and stop trying to prove his mother’s innocence?
If Susanna had been hurt because of him, Cole knew he would never forgive himself.
July 23 rd
12:38 A.M.
Cole’s face drained of all color.
Instinctually, Susanna reached out a hand toward him to … she wasn't even sure what she was hoping to do. He was sitting down, so it wasn't like he could fall down, and even if he could, and even if she could catch him, he was more than twice her size, and she was battered and bruised. There was no way she could hold him up.
Besides, he didn't even like her.
Apologizing and actually liking her were two completely different things.
She didn't like him either. Accepting his apology—one that seemed completely sincere—didn't change the fact he’d been another person to be cruel to her for no reason.
Still …
She couldn’t deny she was filled with an urge to offer comfort somehow.
“Are you sure it’s what he said?” Cole asked in a tight voice.
Refusing to allow herself to be offended that he would doubt her, Susanna searched her memories to make sure she was correctly recalling the words her assailant had muttered in her ear.
They were exactly what she’d told him.
Tell your neighbor boyfriend to back off or he won't like the consequences.
Just because she didn't know what that meant didn't change the facts. And the facts were that whoever had hurt her hadn't chosen her at random.
The knowledge of that sent a shiver of icy terror through her veins and she shuddered violently.
Eyes softening, Cole reached out and picked up the mug she’d set down earlier, afraid she would spill burning tea all over herself. “Here, take this back, it’ll help warm you up, and I put in plenty of sugar to help counteract shock.”
Taking the mug and snuggling back into the comfortable couch cushions, Susanna took a sip, allowing the hot liquid to soothe a little of her fear. If someone had come after her on purpose, it meant they could come back if Cole didn't back off whatever it was they wanted him to back off from.
What was it?
Who was he?
All she knew about her neighbor was that he was big, fit, muscled, and likely had a job in the military because she recognized the attentive way he was always in control of himself and his environment. She knew he had lots of brothers and a sister because she often saw them coming and going from his place. And she knew that he hated her.
That was it.
Nothing that would allow her to figure this out.
“Maybe you just dreamed that’s what your attacker said to you,” Cole suggested, but from the stiff way he held himself and the guilt swimming in his long-lashed brown eyes, she knew he didn't believe that.
He knew why she’d been hurt.
Maybe even knew who had done it.
Anger surged through her, pushing away more of the fear. Okay, he hated her, but if he knew who had raped her then he would have told the cops, wouldn't he?
Only they’d never asked her about anyone.
So, he hadn't told anyone he knew who had hurt her.
What kind of monster was he? It was one thing to hate her without reason, but to know that she was sitting in a hospital bed, being examined, enduring a rape kit, having to tell her story over and over again to doctors, cops, and a counselor the hospital sent to her room, while he held the answers they all needed was pure evil.
“Who is it?” she growled, thankful her voice came out strong, with her anger shining through. This could be a big mistake because she really didn't know enough about this man to know if he was dangerous or not. For all she knew, he’d actually sent her assailant after her.
What if he had?
And she’d just willingly walked into his apartment tonight.
If he wanted, he could do anything to her, and she couldn’t stop him.
She shouldn’t have come.
She should have called Polly or Phillip and told them what she remembered.
If Cole decided to kill her and dispose of her body, nobody would be looking at him as the suspect because he wasn't her rapist and they’d just assume her attacker had come back to finish the job.
This was a huge mistake.
All the air seemed to leave the room.
Susanna couldn’t get enough of it to fill her lungs.
Vaguely, she was aware of stinging pain on her hands as white dots danced in front of her eyes.
She was making this so easy for Cole.
Even as darkness encroached on the edges of her mind, she knew that she was hyperventilating and if she didn't stop, she was going to pass out. If she did, she didn't stand a chance.
“Hey, sprinkles, try to calm down,” Cole’s soothing voice rumbled from somewhere close by. A hand pressed between her shoulder blades, forcing her head down, then settled there, rubbing slow circles on her back. “Focus on your breathing, try to slow it down. Breathe with me, sprinkles. In and out. In and out.”
For some reason, she latched onto his voice and did her best to regulate her breathing, matching it to his.
Once her vision cleared, she looked over to see Cole on the couch beside her. There was concern in his eyes, and his hand still rested on her back, although he’d stopped rubbing circles.
Part of her wanted him to start doing it again.
It was nice.
Soothing.
But she couldn’t trust him.
“Do you know who hurt me?” she asked, not as strong this time, more pleading than anything else.
The fingers on her back pressed tighter into her skin. “No. Susanna, I judged you because of your name and what I assumed based on seeing men coming and going from your apartment. I messed up. But I would not hurt you. Ever. Okay?”
Staring into his eyes, she saw nothing but sincerity.
The guilt was still there, though.
He knew something.
At the very least, he had an idea who had raped her.
“Is there any way whoever hurt you could have been one of your patients? Could one of them have a crush on you and believe that I'm making a move on you?”
Although Cole asked the question it was clear he believed he was clutching at straws in doing so.
“I mean … I guess anything is possible. I don’t believe it’s likely. I don’t think this is about me, Cole,” she said gently. “This is about you. Whatever you know, please, you have to tell me. You have to help the cops find him.”
Abruptly shoving to his feet, Cole speared his fingers through his hair and began to pace the room. It was obvious he didn't want to tell her what he knew, but she was the one who’d been hurt not him. She deserved to know why her life had been irrevocably changed.
“If it is related to me, I don’t know who hurt you. I swear, Susanna,” he added, voice ragged as he begged her to believe him. “I don’t know who he is, I just know what he wants me to back off from.”
There was an apology in his voice as well, and she knew exactly why it was there.
Because he wasn't going to back off.
Which meant whoever had hurt her would likely come back.
Cole knew it, too, based on the agitated way he began to pace the room again. Her eyes tracked him, torn between wanting to yell at him for putting her in danger and begging him to stop whatever he was doing because she couldn’t handle being raped again.
Or worse.
Before she could speak, her gaze landed on a framed photo hanging on the wall behind where Cole had stopped his frantic pacing.
The woman in the photo … Susanna recognized her.
Her head spun as puzzle pieces clicked together giving her a picture of what Cole might be doing that had led to her being raped and threatened. He’d been right. At least partially. This had something to do with one of her patients, but it had something to do with him, too.
Jerking to her feet, Susanna stumbled across the room and snatched the photograph off the wall.
Cole startled, then his brows formed a V as he frowned and tried to take the photo from her hands, but she held on tight.
One of her fingertips traced over a woman's face with blonde hair and pretty, vivid green eyes, a much brighter shade than Susanna’s own. Even though she suspected she already knew the answer, she had to ask the question.
“Who is she?”
Darkness clouded Cole’s eyes, and he snatched the picture from her hands. “Why do you care?”
“Please,” she begged. “I need to know. I think …”
“You think what?” Cole demanded.
“That maybe we both know the reason I was raped.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who is she?” Susanna repeated, a tiny thread of hysteria in her tone.
“She’s my mother,” Cole answered.
The world spun around her, and Susanna staggered backward, dropping onto the closest surface which happened to be an armchair. Rubbing at her temples, she tried to process everything she’d learned tonight.
“How do you know her, Susanna?” Cole growled, some of the dangerous man she had feared him to be just a couple of minutes ago shining through as he stood above her glaring down at her.
“I think one of my former patients raped her.”