Page 11 of Emi's Hero

“Shhh,” he said softly. “I’m only going to touch you long enough to get you back in the bed.”

His word barely registered in her crazed mind as she fought pathetically to free herself.

The man who’d called himself George moved his head side to side to duck her blows as he straightened with her in his arms.

Her body leaned into his hard chest, his warmth pressing against her.

Then he laid her on the mattress and pulled the sheets and blanket up to her chin, tucking the edges around her body, forming a cocoon around her.

She continued to shake, her teeth chattering. “P-please. L-let me g-go,” she said. “D-don’t let him c-come for me.”

George smoothed her hair back from her cheeks. “Let who come for you?” His large hands were surprisingly gentle as his fingers brushed against her temple.

“P-please,” she said through her chattering teeth. “D-don’t hurt me.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” George knelt beside the bed and continued to brush the hair back from her forehead. “I won’t hurt you, and I won’t let anyone else hurt you. Whatever happened to you is past. Wherever you were, you don’t have to go back. You’re safe now.”

She twisted her head left and right. “Not s-safe.” A sob escaped her throat. “Have to go back.”

“No one can make you go back,” he said. “Whoever hurt you can’t hurt you anymore.”

The shakes subsided, leaving her weak. Spent. “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “He can still hurt me more than anyone or anything else can.”

George’s jaw tightened. “Not if I can help it.”

“You don’t understand.” Her eyes drifted closed, images of her daughter flashing through her memories. “He has Sara.”

“Who is Sara?” George asked.

A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “My daughter.”

CHAPTER 4

George’s heartpinched hard in his chest. The man who’d left Emi to die in the Pacific Ocean had her daughter. The woman was obviously distraught and desperate to get her back. Until he knew more, he couldn’t begin to help her.

He stayed with Emi, stroking her hair but not touching her anywhere else.

Based on the bruises all over her body, she’d been badly abused by this guy, Fallon.

Anger burned deep in George’s gut. Any man who hurt a woman wasn’t a man at all. He was a coward and the lowest form of life in the world. Guys like that didn’t deserve to live.

“You still with me?” he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb her if she’d fallen asleep. She needed rest after what she’d endured.

She gave an almost imperceptible nod.

“I have soup on the stove. I’m going to get a bowl for you.” He straightened. As he started to turn, she opened her eyes.

A frown dented her forehead. “You’re not like Fallon’s other men.”

“Because I’m not one of this Fallon guy’s men,” George said. “Who is Fallon?”

Her lips pressed together in a tight line before she answered, “Fallon Vance.”

“What is he to you?” George asked. “Husband? Boyfriend? Ex?”

“None of those.” She turned her gaze toward the open door. “You won’t tell him...” she faltered, “will you?”

George frowned. “Tell him what?”

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