Page 10 of Lesson In Faith

Curled into the fetal position, her broken wrist tucked against her chest, the little runaway blinked at him with those gorgeous eyes cast in shadow. She was trembling violently, through cold or fear, but it was the look of betrayal on her face that cut deep.

“Guess you ain’t too happy with me right now, little owl. Can’t blame you, I’m not real happy with myself at the moment. Made you a promise, didn’t I, and I broke it.” Not his finest trust-building moment, he admitted to himself. “It must’ve been scary, waking up alone with tubes everywhere, not knowing where you are or what was happening. I’m sorry for that.”

Those captivating eyes broke contact. She squeezed them shut, drawing herself in tighter. Her lip quivered, telling him she was miserably unhappy and not swayed in the slightest by his apology.

She was within reach, he calculated. He could snare her ankle and haul her out if she didn’t scoot all the way back to the wall. If he tried to grab her and missed, any hope for trust was gone. She was a feral kitten, wary of humans and traps, despite her need to be comforted.

“Will you let me make it up to you, darlin’? It’s cold on the floor. If you come out, I can get you bundled up in a blanket. Take you where it’s warm and quiet.” Shifting until he was flat on the tiles, he inched closer, holding out his hand. “Look at me, little owl. Come on, give me those beautiful eyes.”

She sniffled, shaking her head.

“Come on,” he coaxed again. “I can lay here all day, but you don’t have that luxury. You’re going to get tired—more tired,” he corrected, “and a lot colder.”

The full force of her misery struck him when she did as he asked and looked at him. Yeah, she was tired. Bone-deep tired. More than that, she was hurting.

“Good girl,” he purred. “Let me help, little owl. I won’t take you back upstairs if you don’t want to go.”

“Merrick,” Evander murmured warningly from behind him.

“No, Evander. We’re not torturing her with the exam room—Linnie can work from my cabin as easily as she can up there.” Merrick didn’t let the little owl drop eye contact. “Trust me, darlin’. I won’t break my promise again.”

A subtle flicker of hope flashed over her drawn face. Slowly, painfully, she wiggled toward him, extending her good arm until her hand fit into his. Her fingers were tiny blocks of ice again, and she whimpered when he grasped them, carefully pulling her from her hiding place.

“Merrick,” Evander said again, this time with an edge of censure.

“My promises, my problem, Evander.” He pushed himself to his knees, easing her up with him. “Isn’t it, little owl? Let’s get you on your feet, if you can stand. How long have you been hiding down there?”

He wasn’t expecting an answer. Whatever was wrong with her voice, it hadn’t rectified itself while she was sleeping. She did try to respond, but gave up and just shrugged a shoulder when nothing was forthcoming.

He stood, guiding her to her feet with a hand under her elbow. She could barely stand straight, her battered body stuck in its hunched position. The bruises were infinitely more vivid this morning, covering a lot more of her than he expected.

“Cover her up before she breaks more bones shivering.” Evander stepped closer, holding out the blanket.

Merrick knew the exact moment the girl clocked his friend; her shoulders tightened as she followed the length of him all the way up from his feet, his torso, to his face. Head tilted back, her mouth dropped open, and she stumbled in painful retreat as her already pale skin became translucent.

Taking the blanket in one hand, Merrick stopped her from bashing into the shelves with the other. “Take a breath, darlin’. He’s a friend. A very large friend, but he won’t hurt you.”

“I’ll step out.” Evander paused. “Are you sure you want to do this, Merrick?”

It wasn’t really a choice. There was right and there was wrong, and leaving her floundering in a strange place, with strangers, when he had the ability to help was definitely wrong. Taking responsibility for her was a gamble, he could admit, especially when Evander and Eli would hold him accountable for her actions if she went off the rails, but how could he leave her to fend for herself?

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Evander sighed heavily. “I’ll get housekeeping to prepare your cabin, and send Linnie over with the necessary medical equipment. Take some time off; I’ll ask Fordham to cover your shifts. Start with a week and we’ll go from there.”

Slipping the blanket around her, Merrick shot his friend an appreciative glance. “Thanks, Evander.”

“Don’t thank me just yet. She doesn’t leave the cabin, Merrick. Not until we find out who she is and what her circumstances are. Definitely not unless her signature is on the relevant paperwork.”

When she was sufficiently bundled up, Merrick scooped her into a bridal carry. At least she’d kept the socks on, he noted. Once he added his jacket to the mix, she should be warm enough for the short walk home. “Pretty sure that won’t be an issue.”

“All right then. If you need anything, you know where we are.”

“Appreciate it.” Adjusting the slight weight in his arms, Merrick’s protective instincts rose as the little owl buried her face against his chest. He carried her from the room. “Mind throwing my jacket over her, Evander? It’s fucking bitter out there.”

The blond Dom’s eyebrows drew together. “Is she going to be warm enough?”

“I think we’ll survive the five minute walk. Not planning on getting lost.”

---