Page 17 of Cutter

“I guess you’re right,” Yoanni murmured, eyeing him.

“Okay, Yoanni, lead the way.”

As he followed her to the door, Cutter tightened his arms around the most precious cargo he’d ever held in his life.

Chapter Four

Yoanni was a careful driver and had been easy to follow. As she drove into the heart of Vanderbilt Station, one of the nicest neighborhoods in Pooler, and entered the sprawling Magnolia apartments complex, Emily’s efforts to keep the small city of Pooler a safe place to live started to make sense. He more or less remembered the address she’d given him. The folded note she’d scribbled for him was still on top of his dresser. But he hadn’t put together all the details or searched her location on the internet. Cutter had simply assumed she lived in Garden City.

Once inside the complex, the direction Yoanni had taken put him on edge. She drove on the perimeter road, heading toward the last apartment building. Doing a rough mental estimate, he figured the distance between the city street and the building was about a hundred and twenty feet—hardly a safety buffer. Worse, the property line was unfenced, and the building’s garage doors faced that direction. Anyone who parked on the city street could walk that distance and be inside the complex in minutes. He liked that even less.

Cutter stopped and dismounted, watching Yoanni drive Emily’s car into the garage and turn off the engine. As sheopened the door, he asked, “Is that your car?” He pointed at the Camry next to Emily’s Land Rover.

“Yep,” Yoanni replied as she slid down from the Rover. “Emily has two spaces. She told me I could leave mine in here.”

“Good thinking,” he said, opening the passenger door. Emily was still asleep, but she was now restless. Quickly, he cradled her in his arms. “We have to hurry up. Get near a bathroom in case she gets sick.”

“It’s this way.” Pressing the control button to close the garage door, Yoanni rushed to the building’s breezeway and took the stairs to the second level. “Thank you for not listening to me,” she said as she fumbled with the door keys. “There’s no way I could’ve taken her out of the car and carried her up the stairs.”

Cutter didn’t respond. Yoanni’s protective reaction at the bar had shown guts. She’d wanted to defend Emily, yet the situation had flustered her. A pretty good indication that Yoanni wasn’t in law enforcement. She had the looks of a civilian friend Emily might have recruited for this reckless escapade. As the situation got complicated with Nails and his friend, it couldn’t have been easy for her, especially when Emily unknowingly took the drugs.

Evidently, Emily hadn’t considered all the variables and potential consequences of going to a biker bar dressed to kill.

Nevertheless, something was off. Though her Goth outfit screamed,Pay attention to me,there was a sweetness to her behavior that he couldn’t quite figure out.

Innocence?

Naivete?

Either way, shame on her. Cutter understood the urgency to investigate and catch criminal elements, but to throw an inexperienced civilian into the fray… What was she trying to prove?

More reason for an ass chewing and a good spanking.

In the meantime, putting Emily to bed was first on the list. “Which way to her bedroom?”

“Keep going. It’s straight through that hallway,” Yoanni replied, bolting the front door.

It took him a fraction of a second to realize he was in Emily’s bedroom. This was her inner sanctum, her private haven. A bedroom revealed a person’s personality. Despite his concern for her condition, he spared enough attention to admire the soft creams and whites she’d chosen. He approved. By comparison, his place was austerity personified. If he were the cop, he’d want to come home to this welcoming and serene space after a hard day on the streets or at the station.

Yoanni pulled back the bedspread, and he gently laid Emily down. “Pass me that pillow,” he said. “We have to keep her torso lifted.” But the minute he slipped the second pillow behind her neck, Emily’s stomach convulsed. Steadying her neck, he exclaimed, “Oh, hell! She’s gonna puke. Bring me a waste basket. Anything. Hurry.”

The next few minutes weren’t pretty. Emily would be terribly embarrassed when she learned her stomach had ejected all its contents in front of Cutter and Yoanni.

“What do you need?” Yoanni asked once Emily’s stomach stopped heaving.

“Ginger ale would be great, but water also works. And a damp towel, please.”

“’Kay.” She ran out. Cutter placed the soiled bin by the foot of the nightstand, then carefully returned Emily to a reclining position.

“No ginger ale anywhere. Got water,” Yoanni said as she passed him the glass and a damp cloth.

“Thanks. She has to drink, but not all once, because she threw up.” Holding up Emily’s head, he put the glass to her lips.She gave him what could pass for a smile. “Come on. Take a sip, kitten.”

He caught himself. Where had the endearment come from?

“Will she be okay?” Yoanni asked in a calm voice. Good. Maybe she hadn’t noticed.

“Yep,” he replied. “The best thing she did was throw up. They would’ve pumped her stomach at the ER. Now she’ll sleep without interruption.” He wiped her face and mouth with the cloth.

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