Save Me

by Margaret Watson

  "I'd rather have you. And sex." She swayed toward him. "Can we have sex, Ryno?"

  Ryno? He swallowed his snort of laughter. "I don't think sex is on the agenda tonight, Liv. I want you completely awake and aware when we make love."

  He froze at the words that slipped out of his mouth. Sex. That's what they were talking about. Not making love. It would be sex. Fun. Nothing more.

  "I am awake. And I want sex tonight." She reached for him and her hand slipped off his thigh. "You promised."

  His mouth twitched and the panic faded. It had been a long day. No wonder he was confused. "We'll have sex when you're feeling better. Come on, Loopy Livvy. Let's get you to bed."

  He helped her off the couch, and she stumbled into the bathroom. When she swayed in front of the sink, Ryan held her waist as she brushed her teeth. Then he guided her into her bedroom.

  Although it was dark, with only slats of moonlight illuminating the room, it was as colorful and comfortable as the rest of her apartment. He steered her toward her bed, helping her sit as she staggered against him.

  "You want pajamas?" he asked.

  "You going to help me change? No one else here to see me naked." She tried to press a kiss to his neck, but stumbled against him.

  God! Even with the drugs, she'd remembered what he said in the ER.

  Arousal swept over him in a dark, heavy wave. Livvy stared at him, desire filling her eyes, and he curled his hand around her upper arm. "On second thought? The scrubs will work just fine."

  Holding her with one arm, he threw the quilt, blanket and top sheet back, then eased her down onto the bed. Livvy rubbed at the bandage covering the road rash on her chin, then curled onto her side. "You're staying?" she asked, watching him.

  "Right next door in your spare room," he assured her.

  "No." Livvy frowned. "In here. You said you'd stay."

  "You want me to sleep in your bed with you?" He shoved his hand through his hair. Damn.

  "Yes," she said, smiling as if pleased he'd finally gotten it.

  He wanted to curl around her. Keep her safe. But she was drugged. "You sure, Loopy Livvy?"

  "Yes. I'm sure." She waved a hand at him. "Take off your clothes."

  "You're bossy when you're drugged up," he said, unable to stop the tiny smile.

  As she watched, he unbuttoned his shirt and laid it over a chair. Did the same with his jeans. Then he slid into bed beside her in his boxer briefs and tee shirt.

  "The doctor told me someone needed to wake you up a couple of times during the night," he said, staying a careful foot away from her. "You don't have any signs of a concussion, but he wants to make sure there isn't a slow bleed in your head."

  "You can wake me up anytime you want," she said, wriggling across the bed until she was right next to him.

  "Go to sleep, babe," he whispered. He should keep his distance. But with her curled trustingly against him, he couldn't let her go. He drew her back against his chest. She felt perfect nestled against him, her body warm and soft against his. He wrapped an arm around her abdomen and snugged her closer. "I'll be right here in case you have bad dreams."

  She relaxed into him. "Won't dream about that car," she whispered, so softly that he could barely hear her. "Even in my dreams, you won't let it run me down."

  Chapter 11

  Livvy licked her lips, squinting in the sunlight that sneaked through the slats of her blinds. Her mouth felt as if the entire French army had marched through it during the night.

  She needed water.

  Still half asleep, she stumbled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom, wincing at the sharp ache in her left leg and arm. She splashed water into a paper cup and drank. Filled it twice more before she felt close to human.

  Tossing the cup into the trash, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. A white bandage covered her chin. Her lip was swollen, her hair tangled. She leaned closer. There was actual dirt in it. She wore blue pajamas that weren't hers.

  They were hospital scrubs, she realized as she glanced down at them.

  Everything that had happened the day before came roaring back. Philby dead. The car speeding across Daley plaza. Ryan yanking her out of its way, tackling her to the ground. The emergency room.

  Her memory was fuzzy after that. Ryan had brought her home. They'd eaten…something. He'd tucked her into bed.

  She'd asked him to stay. To sleep in the bed with her.

  Heat swept over her body as vague memories stirred. She'd asked him for more than that.

  Hurrying back into her bedroom, she found indentations on both of her pillows. The covers on the other side of the bed were rumpled. Folded over, as if someone had tossed them aside.

  Not someone. Ryan.

  He'd stayed, just as she'd asked. Slept in her bed, too.

  Disappeared before she woke up.

  Disappointment, sharp and bitter, stung the back of her throat. She'd thought they were becoming… Her mind refused to name it. More than colleagues, though. More than two people forced to work together.

  Dropping the scrubs on the floor, she turned on the shower. Waited until the water was hot, then stepped beneath the spray.

  Fifteen minutes later, she stepped out of the tub, clean and feeling much better. She'd even managed to keep the bandage on her chin dry. As she toweled her hair, she heard her front door open. Close. Softly, as if whoever entered was trying to be quiet.

  Ryan's words played in her head. Where do you think you are on Bates' 'people to get rid of' list?

  Hands shaking, she wrapped herself in the towel. Tried twice before she managed to knot it between her breasts.

  Livvy yanked open a drawer, scrabbling for anything that could be used as a weapon. Combs. A hairbrush. A handful of Q-tips. An eyebrow pencil. Tiny cases of eye shadow. Mascara. A tweezer.

  A pointy tweezer. Clutching her pitiful weapon tightly, she eased the bathroom door open.

  Rattling sounds drifted out of the kitchen. Was he searching for something?

  Tip-toeing through the dining room, holding the towel against her chest, she stopped at the kitchen door. Inhaled once, shakily. Again.

  Stepped around the corner, the tweezers extended stiffly in front of her.

  "Ryan?"

  He turned, smiling at her. "Liv. How do you…" His smile disappeared when he saw the tweezers clutched between her thumb and index finger. Noticed her hand shaking as she pointed them at him.

  "Hey." He closed his hand around hers, tugged the tweezers away. Tossed them onto the counter, then folded her into his arms. "How are you feeling this morning?"

  She shoved at his chest until he let her go. "I'm feeling pissed off. 'Almost wet my pants' scared. Wondering why you're here." She shoved him again, but instead of backing up, he closed his fingers around hers and pressed her palm against his chest.

  He curled his other arm around her waist and drew her closer. "What's this about, Livvy?"

  Staring at his hand covering hers, feeling his heart racing beneath her palm, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "You left." She wanted to press a kiss to his hand, but wouldn't let him know how…destroyed she'd felt. "I thought you were gone. I heard someone open the door. I thought…I thought I was the next one on Bates' list."

  He let her hand go, wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, babe. I didn't leave you. I couldn…wouldn't do that. I didn't want to wake you, so I went downstairs to call your sister. I told her you were still asleep, but you didn't have any concussion symptoms when I woke you up." He stroked his hand down her wet hair, again and again, and her fear and anger faded as tears trickled down her cheeks. "Figured I could make it to Della's and back while you were still asleep."

  He eased away from her and brushed wet strands of hair away from her face. "I wanted to be here when you woke up. But you were zonked out. After yesterday, I figured you'd sleep a lot longer."

  Livvy took a deep, shuddering breath. Inhaled his fresh air and sunshine scent. Wip
ed her damp cheeks against his shirt. "'S okay," she murmured into his chest. "I over-reacted. I'm sorry."

  His arms tightened around her. "I shouldn't have gone to Della's." His hard body was warm against hers. Comforting.

  He made her feel safe.

  "Give me some coffee and we're good," she said. Instead of moving, she pressed closer against him. Forgot about her sore chin, her fat lip, the ache in her arms and legs. Ryan was solid. Real. She wanted to stay wrapped around him forever.

  "Coffee's right here," he said. He didn't let her go, though.

  Coffee would reheat. Ignoring the sting in her lip, she lifted her face, stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his. He hesitated for a long moment, framing her face with his hands. But when she wound her arms around his neck, his eyes fluttered closed. He pressed his lips softly against hers, careful to avoid the puffy, sore spot. "Liv," he murmured against her mouth.

  "You made a promise last night." She touched his lips with her tongue, desire licking through her body like flames. "Wasn't so drugged up I forgot that."

  "Yeah. I did." He ran his hands down her sides, pressed her hips closer to his. "I'm not sure you're feeling better, though. I saw you limping."

  "Never thought I'd have to beg you to have sex with me." She pressed her hips into his, felt the satisfying weight of his erection against her. He wanted her, too.

  "God, Livvy," he groaned, burying his face in her neck. "You're making me crazy. You need to get dressed before I do something I shouldn't do." He tucked in her knotted towel more firmly.

  "You're right. I shouldn't be wearing this towel. I'll take it off." Her hands shook as she reached for the knot, and his fingers closed over hers.

  "Not exactly what I meant, babe."

  They stared at each other, his hand holding the towel in place as she tried to loosen it. The sudden buzz of her doorbell was a splash of icy water to her libido.

  Ryan's, too. Desire disappeared from his eyes, replaced by hard determination. His hands fell away from her. The softness vanished from his eyes. "Go get dressed." His fingers hovered over the gun at his hip. "I'll see who's at the door."

  He nodded toward her bedroom. "Stay there until I tell you it's okay to come out."

  She backed away from him, holding his gaze as she clutched the knot on the towel. He watched until she was out of sight in the bedroom. Then he moved. The old hardwood floor creaked as he headed toward the front door. The whisper of metal against leather drifted toward her. He'd drawn his gun from its holster

  Letting the towel drop to the floor, she threw on a tee shirt and pair of yoga pants. Warm socks. Even the sweater she pulled on over the tee shirt couldn't stop her violent shivering.

  "Yes?" His voice carried menace. Warning.

  The reply was hard to hear from her bedroom. She heard the locks on the door click open, though. She walked out of her bedroom, then froze, remembering Ryan's last words. "Stay there until I tell you it's okay to come out."

  She peeked around the corner. Ryan stood at the door, his gun in his hand.

  Swallowing hard, she backed into her bedroom. Stood at the door, listening.

  The door creaked open. "Ward?" Cilla's voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

  * * *

  "Looking out for your sister." Ryan held Cilla's gaze, refusing to back down. She didn't get to make him feel as if he didn't belong here. Livvy had asked him to stay.

  As he held Cilla's gaze, he heard footsteps behind him. Livvy. Wincing as she approached them.

  "Cill," Livvy said with a sob of relief.

  She'd begged him to stay last night. Said she'd wanted to have sex with him. Had she really wanted her sister to stay, instead? Had she let him stay out of some damn misguided 'thank you for saving me' shit?

  Cilla push past Ryan and enveloped Livvy in a tight hug. Held her for a long moment. Then eased away.

  "How are you feeling?" she asked softly, brushing Livvy's hair out of her face.

  Livvy raised one shoulder. "Fine. Basically." Her gaze flickered to his, then away. "Thanks to Ryan."

  Cilla frowned. "What do you mean, 'thanks to Ryan?'"

  "He didn't tell you when he called?"

  "He said you'd had an accident. You were in the ER. That you were sore, but otherwise okay. That's it." She narrowed her gaze at Ryan. "Other than I shouldn't come to the hospital."

  Livvy sucked her lower lip into her mouth. Let it pop out again. "Come sit down, Cill. I'm a little sore."

  Ryan leaned against the door, watching them. He felt like a third wheel. Unnecessary. In the way. Someone they were merely tolerating.

  Livvy lowered herself carefully onto the couch, and Cilla sat next to her. Took Livvy's hand, held it tightly between hers. "Tell me what happened."

  Cilla was going to try and toss him out of Livvy's apartment. Ryan could read it in her body language – she was practically draped over her sister. Protecting her. From him?

  His jaw clenching, he watched the two heads so close together. Both of them with those thick waves of whiskey-colored hair. From the side, so similar, they could be twins.

  Blood always trumped friends.

  The thought hollowed him out, and he pushed away from the door. He'd get his damn coffee. Leave Livvy and her sister alone.

  "Where are you going, Ryan?" Livvy's voice.

  He glanced over his shoulder. "To get my coffee."

  She studied him for a long moment, as if she could see the coldness enveloping him. "Would you get mine, too, please?" she asked softly.

  "Sure," he said, swallowing. Maybe she didn't want him banished to the kitchen.

  When he returned to the living room, Livvy had leaned against the back of the couch. Cilla sat right beside her, still holding her hand. Ryan set her coffee on the table in front of the two women, then sat in the chair across from them.

  Livvy watched him over the rim of the coffee cup, then set it down on the table. "Scoot over, Cill," she said nudging her sister with her hip.

  Cilla frowned, but she moved away from Livvy.

  "More," Livvy said.

  Cilla retreated all the way to the other end of the couch, and Livvy scooted after her. Patting the cushion on her other side, she said, "C'mere, Ryan."

  As soon as he lowered himself onto the sofa, she took his hand. It was hard to miss Cilla's sudden frown.

  Her gaze drifted from Livvy's face to his, but she didn't say a word. Finally Cilla said to Livvy, "Tell me what happened."

  "A car tried to run me down in Daley Plaza," she said. Her voice held little emotion, as if she was merely reciting facts. Then her expression softened as she gazed at him. "Ryan pulled me out of the way. We hit the pavement hard, and I ended up with a few bruises and a scraped chin. Cut mouth. That's it." The unspoken 'could have been so much worse' hung in the air between them.

  "What?" Cilla bounced to her feet, her gaze shifting between Livvy and Ryan. "What the hell is going on?"

  "Bates is getting worried," Ryan said. Livvy leaned against him. He wanted to wrap his arm around her, but clenched his fist on his thigh instead. Cilla was already unhappy with his presence in her sister's apartment.

  Livvy squirmed her fingers between his arm and his chest and curled her hand around his biceps.

  The ice inside him began to melt.

  He cleared his throat. "I'm pretty sure the car that almost hit Livvy is the same one that's been following me for a few days."

  "Are you putting my sister in danger, Ward?" Cilla demanded.

  He was, damn it all to hell. And there wasn't a fucking thing he could do about it. "Anyone I worked with would be in danger." He tried to keep the anger out of his voice. "That's on Bates. Who do you think is behind that silver car that almost hit your sister? The black car following her?"

  "That bastard." Cilla straightened. "What can we do?"

  The damn Donovans couldn't do any more than he was already doing. "I'm going to visit Bates in Cook County Jail," Ryan said. "Act like I'm on his
side. See if I can get anything out of him."

  Livvy shifted to face him, frowning. But still holding onto him. "Do you think he'll believe you're on his side? Given that you're working with me?"

  Ryan shrugged. "I'm sure he also knows that Swenson pretty much forced me to do it."

  "He…you visited him at least once before." Livvy tightened her hand on his arm. "Don't you think he'll be suspicious when you show up now?"

  It had only been there for a moment, but he'd seen the doubt in Livvy's expression. "Why do you think I visited him that time?"

  "I have no idea."

  He shifted subtly. Just enough to dislodge her hand from his arm. Enough to ensure they were no longer touching from knee to shoulder. "I asked him if his wife and kids were okay. If they needed anything." He rolled his shoulders, careful not to touch her. "He was a criminal, and he deserved to be in jail. His kids are innocent."

  Livvy swiveled to face him on the couch. Grabbed his hands and held on, even when he tried to pull away. "All I meant was, if you made it clear you thought he was guilty a few weeks ago, he'll be suspicious if you're suddenly on his side."

  He studied her for a long moment, and all he saw was concern. For his safety. The vise around his heart loosened.

  "Do you think I don't trust you?" she said softly. He didn’t miss the hurt in her voice.

  "Do you?" he asked softly.

  "Of course I do." The words were out almost before he'd finished speaking. "I just…I don't want him to put a target on you, too."

  He relaxed his shoulders. Let out a breath. "News flash, babe. It's already there. I'm the guy who worked with him every day. The guy who knows him better than anyone else in the department. He probably thinks I know a lot more than I do."

  Cilla leaned forward. "How much do you know, Ward?"

  She still didn't trust him with her sister. He clenched his teeth. Deliberately relaxed. "Not nearly enough." He stared at his hands. "If they have any witnesses, or a dirtbag who's cooperating, I'd probably remember if Bates met with him or her. I've found some inconsistencies in the reports he wrote. Things he omitted. Changed. But I haven't found a smoking gun. Right now, I'm focused on protecting Livvy."