Chapter 5 - Cillian
Cillian’s hand didn’t leave Amber as he navigated the two of them back through the woods toward the house where he had watched them flee.
Part of him wasn’t convinced that she wouldn’t dart away if he released her, and he needed to get the two of them out of here as soon as possible, before Eric tried anything.
He wouldn’t be surprised if Eric decided to attack while Cillian’s back was turned.
That way, he’d be up several grand and get to keep Amber.
Cillian wasn’t about to let that happen.
After what he’d seen, he’d do anything to keep her as far away from Eric as possible.
After hearing the sounds of a scuffle, he had dashed after them, following their scents and the sound of breaking branches and someone crashing through the brush.
He’d arrived right as Eric hauled Amber to her feet and began shaking her.
He had seen the terror on her face and the rage on Eric’s.
Instead of waiting for a more opportune time, he had stepped out on impulse, unable to stand seeing Amber’s frightened expression and not doing anything to help her.
Which was how he found himself walking away from the asshole he hated, who had murdered plenty of people, after paying him to make sure he got a terrified woman to safety. He had hunted down his quarry, and instead of killing the bastard like he had planned, he had bought a woman off him.
There hadn’t been much choice. He couldn’t risk going after Eric, not with Amber right there. She could have gotten caught in the crossfire. So his mission had turned to one of extraction, something he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around.
Impulsive? Probably. Did he regret it? No. Especially not after the way he had seen Eric treat Amber.
They reached the house. Instead of taking her to the hotel room he had rented for the week, he ushered her into the car, guiding her to the passenger seat before moving to the driver’s side.
Just as he was about to clamber into the car, he caught sight of Eric watching him from the trees.
The other shifter smirked, eyes sparking, and he tipped an imaginary hat to Cillian.
Cillian nodded curtly in response, then slid into the driver’s seat.
Amber didn’t speak as he cranked the car and pulled away.
Her fingers were curled into tight fists.
Her entire body was taut, a coiled spring ready to release at any moment.
He had a wild urge to stretch out and rest his hand on her leg, to provide some sort of comfort.
He kept his hands on the steering wheel.
After the way Eric had handled her, Cillian doubted she would welcome the caress of a virtual stranger.
“Are you all right?” Cillian asked after they had been in the car for five minutes and Amber hadn’t so much as opened her mouth. He glanced over in time to see her swallow.
“I’m fine,” she said. Her voice came out tiny and hoarse. Her eyes had a glazed, faraway look, as if she were shell-shocked. After a moment, she glanced nervously at him, as if unsure of his intentions. “Where are we going?”
He glanced in the rearview to check to see if Eric had decided to follow them. When he was satisfied he couldn’t see any wolf darting through the trees, trying to keep up with the car, he pressed his foot down on the pedal and sped up.
“Silverrose,” he said. “My house. It’s a couple of hours away, but I want to get you as far away from that shithead as possible.”
Her shoulders loosened. Barely. Her eyes flicked to the side mirror, as if hunting for Eric herself. Eventually, she let out a low breath and rested her head against the glass. Her eyes fluttered shut. After a minute, her breath evened out, and she was asleep.
He let her sleep, keeping the radio off so it wouldn’t disturb her, leaving him alone with his thoughts, which were dark and brooding.
He should have ripped Eric’s head off when he had the chance.
But he’d prioritized Amber’s safety. He hadn’t wanted to risk Eric using her as a human shield or getting away and dragging her with him.
His mission had changed. Only time would tell if it was the right choice.
He glanced over at Amber. She looked peaceful while asleep, the panic and tension that had been pulsating off her since he had first seen her in that small house gone.
The lines on her face and the stricken expression had smoothed out.
Whenever he had seen her at training, there had always been a spark in her, a fire he’d admired.
It was hard to reconcile that woman with the one he had rescued from Eric.
He wanted to ask her more about what happened, her obvious history with Eric.
Now, though, she seemed at ease, and he wasn’t about to ruin that tranquility.
There would be opportunities to talk to her about it later.
Amber remained asleep the entire ride. It wasn’t until he pulled in front of his house that she opened her eyes.
She blinked blearily, her brows knitted together.
Then, she straightened, eyes flying wide with alarm.
It wasn’t until her head whipped around and she saw Cillian that she relaxed a little.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’re at my house.”
He held the car door open for her, then guided her inside.
Now that she was awake, some of that tautness had returned to her shoulders.
He had an overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her and hold her against him, to give her some reassurance that it was all going to be okay.
Instead, he stayed an arm’s length away as he unlocked the front door and stepped into the living room.
“Sit down,” he said, gesturing toward the couch. When she obeyed, he walked over to the closet and pulled out an emergency first-aid kit. He came to crouch next to her. “I’m going to look over you, all right?”
She nodded, then stayed still as he looked at the cuts and scrapes she’d gained while charging through the woods, the bruises from where Eric had held her already a deep, angry purple.
Cillian’s eyes narrowed, but he remained silent.
He glanced up at Amber and saw her watching him.
Her cheeks flushed, and she turned away. Not out of shyness, but out of shame.
He didn’t press it, sensing that it wouldn’t be welcome at the moment, even if he didn’t think she had anything to be ashamed of. Instead, he lifted her leg to examine her foot.
“These got the worst of it,” he said.
“Wonder why,” she said, her expression a little dry.
He glanced up at her and raised an eyebrow. “Probably from running through the woods barefoot,” he teased.
Her lip twitched up for the briefest of moments, then the slight smile died. “I didn’t have much of a choice,” she said.
He felt his own expression darken. “I know,” he growled. He turned and grabbed wipes to begin cleaning the soles of her feet. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.”
She didn’t respond right away. After he finished wiping down one foot, he glanced up to see her looking down at him with a curious expression.
“What were you doing there?” she asked.
He smirked. “You mean besides stumbling across women in distress?” He had meant it to come out light and playful, to make her laugh. Instead, she flinched. He pressed on. “I was actually hunting the guy I found you with. His name is Eric.”
“I know,” she muttered.
Something about the way she said it, the bite in the words along with something like resignation or shame, made him stop. He looked up at her in time to see the haunted expression that she quickly tried to hide.
“That wasn’t the first time you’ve met him, was it?
” he asked. He had suspected as much based on how the two of them had interacted.
There had been a familiarity there that made it seem as though they had known each other for some time.
He watched her expression. If she told him it was, he wouldn’t believe her, but he would let it drop for now.
There was the briefest flicker of hesitation, as if she were considering whether to lie. Then her shoulders sagged, and she let out a long breath. She ran a hand through her hair, and Cillian noticed with a spasm of rage that it was trembling.
“No,” she finally admitted. “He’s my ex, actually. From before Sier and his crew caught me.”
Cillian paused, frowning, thinking back to how miserable she looked when Eric had been holding her. The tension in her shoulders, and the fact that, based on the dirt still covering her clothes and the scrape along her forehead, she’d been trying to run.
“I’m guessing that didn’t end well,” he said.
She let out a choked laugh and shook her head.
Her hand rubbed the spot where Eric had been gripping her bicep, still bright red.
It was going to bruise. Anger rippled through him, and he wished that he’d had the chance to tear Eric to ribbons for that mark and the haunted, vacant expression currently on Amber’s face, which had always seemed so cheery and vibrant before.
It was as if the asshole had managed to strip her of that in a matter of hours.
“It didn’t,” she said, swallowing. “He was abusive—psychologically and physically. It was awful, but I didn’t think there was a way out.
He made it seem as though I wasn’t going to do any better, and I felt stuck with him.
I tried to break up with him once or twice, but he wouldn’t let me.
Eventually, though, it got to be too much, and I finally managed to get up the courage to leave him.
One night, I got him drunk enough that I knew he would pass out and not get up for several hours, then I snuck out of the house.
” She let out a laugh. “Definitely the coward’s way out, but I was too scared to do anything else. ”
“I would say that there’s nothing cowardly about getting away from that bastard,” Cillian growled. “No matter how you did it. You should be proud of yourself.”