Chapter 2
There’s Nothing Like Chicken Soup
Rebel
Eventually, exhaustion took over, and Sadie fell asleep. I carried her to her room, despite Falcon’s concern that I would be straining my own injury. I felt nothing, not even a twinge of pain. I covered her with her blanket and came back out to sit with Falcon.
“She had the money. Why didn’t she take a cab, like I told her to?” Falcon asks, sitting with his elbows on his knees while he looks around her tiny space. It’s neat and clean, but there’s not much to it.
“Sadie shouldn’t be in this neighborhood either. Walking home in the late hours of the night, it isn’t safe,” I add. She’s got to move, I decide. And I want to find the person who did this to her. My jaw clenches tight, my chest burning with the desire to beat the guy as badly as he hurt Sadie.
“Rebel, let the cops do their job,” Falcon says, interrupting my thoughts.
“Did you take a good look at her?” I exclaim, coming to my feet and waving my arm toward her bedroom. “She can hardly stand up. Her face is beat to shit. Her ribs are wrapped. The fucker needs a beatdown so he knows how it feels.”
Falcon opens his mouth to respond when a shriek comes from Sadie’s bedroom. I run to see what’s the matter. Sadie’s wrestling with the sheets, crying out in her sleep, “He’s here! He’s going to get me!”
“Fuck!” I exclaim. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I carefully pull Sadie to me. “It’s okay, baby. I’m here. No one will hurt you again,” I promise her, murmuring until she relaxes in my arms. Her eyes open wide, and I can see her fear in them. “Pack a bag, Sadie. I’m taking you home with me.”
She blinks. “P-Pardon?”
“I’m not leaving you here. I’ve got a perfectly good apartment, and you’ll be safe there. We have security and great people in the building who take care of one another.”
“I thought that was Falcon’s?—”
“We’re not staying with Falcon. This is my place. It’s time we both went home.” I look around the room. “Falcon and I will help you pack what you need.”
“I can’t just leave,” Sadie says.
I place my hands on either side of her cheeks, staring into her beautiful emerald-green eyes. “All right, Sadie, I’m going to say this because we’ve both been dancing around this since the moment we met. There’s something between us. This isn’t the time to get into this because of the drama that just unfolded in your life. But eventually, we’re going to explore it. You may not have gotten this impression from me, but I’m the kind of man who, when he has a woman, takes care of her. I can’t leave you here, and I won’t. So, you need to take a leap of faith and let me look after you.” I press my lips gently to hers, not wanting to hurt her already bruised mouth, and with the slightest touch, I know this woman is mine.
“Where’s your bag, Sadie?” Falcon asks from the doorway. Sadie looks at us and points to her closet.
I caught a glimpse of Sadie while she changed into a pair of soft leggings and a shirt. She has scrapes and bruises on her legs and arms, but the worst of her injuries are to her ribs, which are bandaged. Her lip is split, and she has a cut on her forehead and a black eye to boot, but all in all, these are injuries that will heal. I walk toward Falcon, who’s waiting for me in the other room.
Falcon is standing near the door. “Are you sure you’re ready to go home?” he asks, then adds, “It’s no problem for Sadie to stay with us at my place.”
“Time to go home. You’ve been amazing. And in three days, Sadie wasn’t going to be looking after me anymore anyway. I need to get back to work. I know I have to build up to working in the field again, but I need to get back to work. And Sadie, well…” I can’t finish that thought because I’m not sure what this is, but I do know I can’t let her go.
“If she’s the one, then I’m happy as hell for you,” Falcon says.
“I have no fucking clue what I’m doing,” I confess. “All I know is that I can’t let her go.” I hear Sadie shuffling, then dragging something behind her. It’s her bag.
“Drop it, babe. I got it,” I tell her. I move to pick up the bag and can tell it’s too light. “There can’t be anything in here.”
“There is.”
“What?”
“I have a couple of pairs of pants and tops. That should be enough for a couple of days,” Sadie says. I leave her where she stands and go back into her room, taking the bag with me. I open the bag and stuff it full of clothes. I don’t even know what I’m throwing in, but if I could fit it all, I would.
Sadie pokes her head into the room. “That’s too much.”
“No, it isn’t. You need special shampoo and shit?” I ask. “Women need that sort of stuff.”
“Um…”
“Get it together, Sadie.” To my surprise, she doesn’t question me and goes into the bathroom and sticks more stuff into a travel bag. Before she makes a move to lift it, I say, “I got it.”
Falcon immediately takes the bigger bag from me, and we head into the hallway. After locking her door, I wrap my arm around Sadie’s waist, and she clings to me as I walk her down the three flights of stairs, wincing with every step, and into Falcon’s Escalade.
Sadie
The last person I expected to see at my door was Rebel. I thought for sure it was the property manager coming to collect the rent. He’s a kind, older man and is more like the grandpa I never knew. Since my parents had me much later in life, I never really got to know my grandparents. Dad’s mom and dad were gone before I was born, and I was a baby when my mom’s father passed away, and a year later, her mother died.
Hubert is a sweet older guy who takes care of me and the building. I think he took to me because I don’t throw wild parties, like the guy one floor above me who has the cops turning up almost on a weekly basis, and I pay my rent on time. Hubert’s even added a double lock on my door for my safety. He visits every now and then, and we sit and have coffee and cookies. He reminds me of Santa with his rounded belly and white hair and beard, but it’s the kindness I see in his big brown eyes that melts my heart.
Hubert’s the kind of man who, if you treat him right, will give the love right back twofold. His wife passed away several years ago, and his children have been trying to get him to move closer to them in the suburbs, but he says he isn’t ready to retire yet. His son and daughter have already bought a small bungalow set between the two of them for when Hubert decides he’s ready to join them, and they visit often or have Hubert over almost every weekend. He’s close to his family, and he brags about his children and grandchildren all the time. He’s proud of the family he and his wife built.
It’s not until we’re on the road for over twenty minutes that I realize I should have gone down to Hubert’s apartment to drop off the rent check.
I moan silently, or at least I thought it was silent, until Rebel looks over his shoulder into the back seat. “What’s wrong, babe? Need us to stop?” he asks, his face filled with concern.
“No, I’m fine, but I forgot to pay Hubert.” I sigh, pressing my hand to my head, which is throbbing and has been getting increasingly worse. I should be resting, but I was too scared to close my eyes for too long. I would keep thinking about the man who attacked me. I didn’t get a good look at his face, but I’ll never forget the sound of his voice as he kept shouting at me to shut up and give him my purse. The stench of his cheap cologne is etched in my memory, and the mere thought of it makes me want to hurl.
“Who’s Hubert?” he asks, watching me rub my temples.
“He’s the property manager. He’s a sweet man, and he’d wait, but I’m never late with the rent, and he’ll worry if he doesn’t see me around,” I tell him.
“You give me his number, sweetheart, and I’ll call him. I’ll get him the rent money. Don’t stress. I’ll take care of it.” Rebel’s tone is calm and smooth. It makes me want to curl into his lap and fall asleep in his arms.
“I forgot my checkbook,” I murmur.
“If he’s the great guy you say he is, he’ll wait a couple of days. Don’t ya think?”
“He is.”
“Then there’s no problem.” Rebel gives me a warm smile. He’s sexy when he’s brooding, but irresistible when he smiles at me that way. I manage a small grin, then lay my head back and close my eyes with the hope that we arrive at Rebel’s soon. I fall asleep without remembering the attack.
A while later, I vaguely recall Rebel leading me to the elevator, hearing a variety of voices. I was so tired by that point, I was a walking zombie. I don’t remember getting into Rebel’s bed at all. Yet, here I am, cuddled up to Rebel, with his arm banded around my waist.
I stir in his arms, and Rebel releases me and turns me carefully onto my back. “How’s your headache, sweetheart?”
I lick my lips. “Better, thank you.”
Then his fingers glide along my cheek. It’s a whisper of a touch, and yet it leaves my belly warm and gushy, and my throat goes dry. His touch leaves me breathless. He runs his fingers over the bandage on my forehead.
“Do we need to change the dressing?” he asks, his vibrant blue eyes looking deeply into mine.
“I’ll do it later.” My stomach makes itself known with a rumble right then and there.
“I need to feed you,” he says with a grin.
“Maybe some toast,” I murmur.
“Gertie brought some soup over earlier, and I’ll bet you she has sandwiches waiting for us in the refrigerator.”
“Gertie?”
“You’ll meet her soon. If I know that woman, she’ll be at our door by dinnertime.” He chuckles. “She’s a hoot, and she’s part of our Storm family. You can’t help but love that old woman.” As soon as he says old woman, I think old man, bringing Hubert to mind.
“Hubert!” I exclaim, my eyes growing wide.
“I’ve called him, babe. Suffice it to say he isn’t too happy about what happened to you. He doesn’t care when you pay the rent but wants to come over to see you. I told him to give you the day to rest and to come by tomorrow anytime. Does that work for you?” he asks.
I tug at my lower lip and peer up at him through lowered lashes. “Yes. I didn’t want to upset Hubert by having him see me this way. He’s a really sweet man.”
“Sounds like it. Time to get you fed.” Rebel gets out of bed, then comes over to my side and gently helps me out. The rest did amazing things for my headache, but my muscles have seized up, and I can feel every ache and pain. “Bathroom is through there.” Rebel points to the adjoining door. “When you’re ready, call, and I’ll help you to the living room.”
He leaves me to it. I see my bags in the corner of the room on the chair, and I grab my brush and a hair tie. The mirror reveals a very pale me with crazy bed hair and the bruises getting darker on my skin. I splash some water on my face and brush my hair, pulling it up in a messy bun. It doesn’t hide the cuts and scrapes—nothing would—but my hair doesn’t look like a wild mess now.
I don’t call for Rebel and instead find my way into the living room, where the scent of chicken noodle soup catches my attention. My tummy grumbles, reminding me to feed it.
“You didn’t call me,” he says. Rebel comes over to me, tucks his hand under my chin, and lightly brushes his lips over mine. “No matter. Come sit and eat.” He guides me to the small table, where he has two bowls and warm rolls waiting for us. He helps me into my chair.
“Smells incredible,” I say, taking in the delicious aroma.
“There’s nothing like a bowl of chicken soup to make you feel better. At least, that’s what Gertie tells me,” Rebel says with a grin. “Eat up, baby. We’ve got to get your strength back.”