Keeping Her Safe

by Sherry Lewis

  DJ’s hands trembled. Her mind raced as she tried to think of some way to distract him so she could get Marissa to safety. But she couldn’t form a coherent thought.

  “Y’ know what ya need, Devon? Y’ need a real man to teach ya who the boss is.” Larry grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her through the kitchen door.

  She lost her footing and fell to the floor. Ignoring the searing pain in her leg, she scrambled backward on all fours and tried to put some distance between them. When she reached the cabinet, she grabbed it and pulled herself to her feet.

  If she could distract him for a few minutes, she’d have time to get to Marissa’s bedroom and sneak her out the sliding-glass door. She tried to keep her voice steady and to paste a smile on her face. “Sit down for a minute while I get you something to drink.”

  He glanced around the empty room and lifted his shoulders. “On what?”

  “I’ll get you a chair.” Hoping to buy time, she started toward the dining room, but he followed her. “Forget the damned chair. Where’s the prissy boy? Take me to ’im.”

  “He’s outside in the front yard,” she said again.

  But Larry shook his head. “No, he’s not. You’re lying, aren’t ya? Just like all women. Lyin’, cheatin’ whores, all of ya.” Without warning, he lunged toward her.

  Leaping sideways, she started to run. But now he was too close on her heels for her to take a chance on getting to Marissa. Instead she raced down the hallway toward the living room. The pain in her ankle and knee had all but disappeared in the face of her fear.

  She prayed desperately that he’d follow, that she could draw him away from Marissa. Before she reached the front door, she heard him thundering after her.

  She shoved a lamp out of her way and into Larry’s path, but it didn’t slow him down. Frantic, she grabbed the doorknob, but she’d already dead-bolted the door, and the knob twisted uselessly in her hands. She struggled to unlatch the lock, but her fingers felt awkward and stiff.

  Larry’s hands landed on her shoulders. She jumped and tried to pull away, but he yanked her around to face him. His face looked dark and angry. Twisted and ugly.

  Her heart felt as if it had leaped into her throat and then dropped into her stomach.

  “You need t’ be taught a lesson, girl. You need t’ learn respect for a man. Ya don’t treat men like dogs and get away with it.” He thrust her across the room as if she were nothing more than a rag doll. She landed on the arm of the couch, and her neck twisted when her head hit the cushions. She held back a whimper and tried to pull herself upright. But her arms trembled too badly to give her any leverage.

  Galloway crossed the room and reached for her again. This time, she couldn’t hide her fear. Screaming, she threw her arms across her face to protect herself and kicked furiously, trying to land a blow anywhere—his knees, his thighs, even his groin. But he slapped the blows away as if they were mosquitoes.

  One hand hit her in the side. She gasped, more in fear than in pain, and tried to roll away from him. But he caught her shoulders again and pushed her onto her back.

  “Don’t touch me!” she screamed. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”

  Anger filled Larry’s eyes. He looked angry enough to kill someone. He raised a fist and glared at her, and DJ knew with dreadful certainty that if she didn’t do something, he would take her life.

  ADAM SHIFTED IN his seat and leaned against the door of his truck. He’d been out here for over an hour now, with no sign of Larry. He hadn’t dared approach DJ or let her know he was out here watching. She would try to send him away again, but this time nothing would make him leave.

  He pulled the travel mug from the dash and took a sip of coffee, but it had cooled while he’d sat here, and the lukewarm liquid tasted like hog swill. Tomorrow he would bring a thermos. And the next day. And the next, until he knew DJ and Marissa were safe forever.

  Shifting again, he tried to work the kinks from his neck. Where the hell was Kenny? He hadn’t seen any sign of him. Just then, he caught movement behind the curtains of DJ’s house. He leaned forward, gripping the steering wheel. Was it her? Could he catch a glimpse of her?

  The shadow moved across the room quickly. Too quickly. And in horror he watched as another shadow followed it. She wasn’t alone. Galloway was in the house.

  Dammit! How had Adam missed him? He hadn’t taken his eyes off the house for even a minute.

  Shoving open the truck’s door, he touched the gun in the holster on his back as he ran, reassuring himself that he had what he needed to take Galloway down this time. He raced across the lawn, clearing the distance in seconds, and bounded up the steps just as a woman’s scream tore through the night.

  He hit the porch at a dead run and threw all his weight into the door. The wood frame splintered around it. He hit the door again and it fell into the room.

  Galloway stood over DJ with his fist raised. He spun around when the door hit the floor. His eyes widened with shock, then an ugly smile took its place.

  “Well. It’s the prissy boy. The wannabe prissy boy.” He seemed to forget about DJ as he turned toward Adam.

  Adam moved into the room carefully, determined to keep Galloway’s attention focused on himself. “Well,” he replied in the same tone of voice Galloway had used, “it’s the woman beater. Not big enough to take on a man.”

  An ugly expression crossed Galloway’s face. “You wan’ a taste of this, prissy boy? Come try me.”

  Adam didn’t even hesitate. He crossed the room until he was close enough to do whatever he had to to take Galloway down.

  Galloway took a swing at him, but he was obviously too drunk to control the punch. His fist flew wide of its mark. Adam took a step back, then another, hoping to draw Galloway away from DJ.

  “Come on, tough guy,” he taunted. “What’s the matter? You don’t know how to fight a man? Why don’t you imagine I’m a woman? See what you can do then.”

  Galloway’s eyes filled with hatred. “I’ll kill you. You’ve done everything you can to turn my family against me. And now, you’re going to pay the price. You’re a dead man.”

  Behind him, DJ struggled to her feet. She looked weak and pale, but thank God she was alive.

  Adam taunted Galloway again. “Think you can kill me? Come on. Try.” He took another step away and used his hands to motion Galloway toward him. “Come on.”

  Without warning, Galloway pulled a knife and lunged toward Adam, but again his swing went wide.

  Using both hands, Adam shoved Galloway’s shoulders and let the force of the older man’s own weight carry him to the floor. But Galloway rolled and lurched back to his feet. He lunged at Adam again, this time, aiming for Adam’s chest.

  Adam jumped back to avoid the blade, but the knife grazed him. A hot flash of pain followed it and blood flowed from the wound, although it hadn’t gone deep.

  To his surprise, DJ screamed and hurled herself on Galloway. Galloway must have been as shocked as Adam. His grip on the knife loosened and the weapon flew uselessly across the room. Pummeling him with her fists on the face and chest, DJ pushed him backward, straight into Adam. Fury propelled her and she didn’t let up, even when Adam wrapped his arm around Galloway’s neck and threw him to the floor. Adam pulled the gun from his holster and forced it against the side of Galloway’s neck. He cocked the hammer and nestled his finger on the trigger. He had him. He could pull the trigger and claim self-defense. The man had broken into DJ’s home and used a weapon to threaten both their lives. He could take him out with one shot.

  He lifted his gaze for a moment and looked into DJ’s face. Her eyes, deep and wide were like a wounded doe’s. Her breath came in shallow gasps and her body trembled. She would have bruises in the morning—bruises inflicted by this man now in Adam’s control. Adam wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

  But he couldn’t make himself shoot. He might not go to prison for killing Galloway, he might not ever win DJ back, but he couldn’t do anythin
g to hurt her. If he shot this man in front of her, she’d be hurt.

  Easing the weapon away from Galloway’s neck, he held her gaze. “Call the cops, DJ. Now. No second chances.”

  She scrambled to her feet without argument and hobbled from the room. She was injured, and he wanted to hold her and take her pain away. He wouldn’t leave here again without telling her how much he loved her and asking her once more to let him try again.

  He forced his attention back to Galloway. He couldn’t relax even for a second.

  Galloway gasped for air and struggled halfheartedly to get away, but the fight had taken the power from him. For the first time, he looked exactly like what he was—a pathetic, weak old man.

  Adam leaned into Galloway’s back with his knee and held him, suddenly aware of the pain in his chest and the amount of blood he’d lost. He willed the police to respond to DJ’s call before he collapsed.

  His head grew light as he watched the doorway for DJ to return. He imagined her standing there, smiling at him, loving him, the way he longed for her to do. He envisioned her walking slowly toward him, arms outstretched, willing to forgive him.

  His eyelids flickered closed and the image of her vanished. In the distance, the faint wail of sirens cut into the night; the police would be here any minute to take Galloway away. He had to hold on until they arrived. He had to keep Galloway under control. He had to keep DJ and Marissa safe.

  Gritting his teeth, he forced his eyes open and willed himself to hold on a little longer. He could do it. He had to. There was so much he still had to say to DJ—so many things he had to ask.

  He focused on her face, her eyes, her hair—anything to keep himself conscious. He thought she moved closer, almost near enough to touch. He imagined her sitting on the floor beside him and letting her fingers graze his shoulder with a touch so gentle it could only have been a dream.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  In his dream, a smile crossed her face. She pressed a kiss to his cheek and trailed a finger along his jaw. And she answered him. “I love you, too.”

  Outside, tires squealed around the corner and flashing lights lit the windows of DJ’s living room. He looked away from her for a second—surely no longer than that—and when he looked back again, she’d disappeared.

  Footsteps thundered onto the front porch, voices shouted, but Adam couldn’t make his eyes focus any longer. Across the room, he could hear someone asking questions and DJ’s voice as she answered.

  “Get the paramedics in here,” a voice called out near his ear. “This guy’s lost some blood.”

  A second later, too weak to fight any longer, Adam felt himself slip into the black clouds, and even the sound of DJ’s voice faded to nothing.

  DJ PACED THE waiting room, clutching a single red rose in one hand and sending frequent, anxious glances toward the door into the emergency room. She checked her watch and sighed. Only a few minutes past midnight, but she felt as if she’d been waiting forever to see Adam.

  Pivoting, she passed the nurses’ station, walked to the end of the waiting room and stared at the fish tank. A television played softly—presumably to give relatives or loved ones something to keep them occupied.

  The aromas of medication, disinfectant and illness stung her nose. And although she knew her reaction was unreasonable, the occasional burst of subdued laughter from the health-care professionals behind the counter irritated her.

  She wanted to see Adam up and walking again, not weak and helpless the way he’d looked when the paramedics strapped him to the stretcher and carried him away. She needed a chance to tell him she loved him. A chance to explain and to apologize for letting stubborn pride stand in the way of reason.

  At the other end of the waiting room, a door opened. DJ wheeled around, hoping the doctor would be coming to talk with her. Instead, she saw her mother standing there.

  “DJ?” Christina hesitated, almost as if she were frightened to approach. “DJ? Sweetheart, are you all right?”

  DJ took a step toward her. Apparently, that was all the signal her mother needed. She closed the distance between them and pulled DJ into her familiar embrace. Her scent, warm and familiar, surrounded DJ and comforted her the way it always had.

  She looked so worried, DJ let herself relax. “I’m fine, Mom.”

  Sighing with relief, Christina pushed her to arm’s length and studied her face for a second, then hugged her again so tightly, DJ had trouble drawing a deep breath. “Thank God you’re all right,” she said, more to herself than to DJ, then glanced around the waiting room. “Where’s Marissa?”

  “She’s at home with Brittany. Adam’s brother said he’d stop by on his way down from Ogden later this morning and bring her to see Adam. We’re just waiting to find out whether he’s all right.”

  Christina loosened her grip, but she kept both hands on DJ’s shoulders. “Sweetheart, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about everything. If I’d just been honest with you, poor Mr. McAllister wouldn’t be in there—” She gestured toward the emergency room. Her face, her eyes and her voice told DJ more than she could ever have said with words. “Laura told me what happened with Larry. And then, when Tom Dodge finally called me to tell me about last night—” Christina broke off with a shake of her head. Her eyes narrowed and her brows knit. “Tell me about Mr. McAllister. How is he?”

  DJ glanced again at the closed door to his room. “I don’t know. They tell me he’s stable, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

  Christina followed the direction of her gaze, studied DJ’s face intently and looked down at the rose in her hand. Her expression softened. “Laura said she thought there might be something between you two. Is that for him?”

  “Yes.”

  Christina squeezed her shoulder and smiled gently. “Do you love him?”

  DJ nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well? Tell me everything. Does he treat you well? Is he good with Marissa? Does he love you?”

  DJ smiled into her mother’s eyes. In spite of everything, nothing had changed between them. “Yes. Yes. And yes.”

  “Does he know how you feel?”

  “I don’t know,” DJ admitted. “I don’t think so.”

  Christina started to respond, but when something behind DJ caught her attention she stopped abruptly.

  DJ turned to look. The emergency-room physician stood just inside the door, speaking to a nurse. He looked up and caught DJ’s eye. Smiling a little, he nodded and gestured to her.

  Swallowing hard, DJ glanced at her mother.

  “Go,” Christina whispered, and gave her a gentle shove. “You and I can talk later.”

  DJ didn’t have to be told twice. She walked quickly forward to follow the doctor toward Adam’s room.

  “Your friend’s a lucky man,” the doctor said to her with a tight smile. “He’ll be stiff and sore for a few days, but he’ll survive.” He paused outside a closed door and pushed it open with one hand. “He’s in here—waiting for you.”

  Relief washed through DJ. She hadn’t consciously let herself think about the alternative, but now that the danger had passed, she realized the fear that had been there all along.

  She peered inside and took a hesitant step forward. He lay with his head.to one side, looking out the window into the night. She watched him for a moment, relieved to see that some of the color had returned to his face and that the bandage on his chest looked clean and fresh.

  She longed to put her arms around him, but she didn’t dare. Her heart hammered in her chest, and it seemed to take an eternity for him to realize she was there.

  When at last he saw her, a weak smile flashed across his face but his eyes looked dark and she could see the question lurking behind them.

  She crossed the room and touched one of his hands with her fingers. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore.” He half smiled, but his expression sobered again immediately. “I’m glad you’re here.” He lifted his head slightly and touched his lips to hers.


  She melted against him, then pulled back when she remembered his wound. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  She drew in a steadying breath. “I came to apologize. I understand why you did what you did—”

  He lifted his head again and pulled her back against him. This time his kiss was more insistent. Moaning softly, she opened herself to him. He used his tongue and lips to caress hers, but too much remained unsaid between them. She needed to tell him why she’d sent him away the first time and to beg him to forgive her. She pulled away from his embrace slowly, reluctantly.

  “Listen to me, Adam. Please. I need to know you forgive me for being so stubborn and proud—and for sending you away.”

  One eyebrow flew up in that expression of surprise she’d learned to love. “Forgive you? I thought I was the one who needed to apologize. I’m the one who put you in danger by not telling you the truth.” He struggled to sit and reached for her. “I won’t do it again.”

  “I know.”

  He grinned back and pulled her into his arms. With his mouth against hers, he whispered, “I love you.”

  She managed to whisper back, “And I love you.” But the words had no time to move across the space between them before he lowered his lips to hers again. He kissed her softly, carefully, until she wrapped her arms around his neck and wound her fingers into the hair on his nape. Nothing existed but Adam and the thunder of her heart.

  “So, what’s next?” he asked much later.

  She settled carefully on the bed beside him. “I suppose we need to make a few decisions.”

  He shrugged lightly, but she could see a spasm of pain dart across his face. “I’m afraid I’m not very good at waiting. I want to marry you, DJ—right away. I want to build a life together. I want to be a husband and a father.”