Page 93 of In The Trenches (Owens Protective Services)

She nodded gratefully, taking it from me and instantly drinking all of it.

“Bathroom’s off the bedroom,” I said, pointing down the hallway.

“Thanks.” She turned to go, but stopped, glancing back over her shoulder. “I mean it…for everything. You saved my life.”

She continued down the hall and as soon as she was out of sight, I sat down in the seat, wincing at the pain in my side. Pulling my shirt up, I checked out the damage. It was still bleeding, but had luckily turned to a sluggish drip instead of pouring blood. I closed my eyes, just needing a few minutes to relax. I must have fallen asleep, but I jolted awake at the sound of something in the house. Grabbing my gun, I quickly headed in the direction of the bathroom.

32

BETH

With shaky hands,I pulled my shirt over my head, careful not to lift my shoulder too much. Unwrapping it from the sling Cash had made was difficult, but I wasn’t going to ask him for more help. He had already done enough for me.

I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, filled with leaves and twigs, barely still pulled back. My face looked like it was used as a punching bag, and as I stared at my ribs, the mottled bruising said it all. I was in no shape to go anywhere.

I had to slip away, though. Cash and his company didn’t deserve all the crap I was bringing down on them. Between Adam and now the men from the elevator, I was a shit load of trouble. And that didn’t even include the other men that were after me. What I couldn’t figure out was how they found me. I was pretty sure Seth didn’t give me up. He had gone with those men the night of the blackout, but someone had to have followed me, or been watching me after that night.

The only thing I could come up with was that they saw me with OPS, and assumed I was talking. They probably meant to snatch me when Fox dropped me off, but Hayes’s men beat them to it. Leaning against the counter, I tried not to give into the tears, but I was so tired of running, of constantly feeling scared.

I could feel the tears slipping down my cheeks, so I quickly turned on the water and stepped inside. At least in here, the water would block out the sound of me crying. I sank down to the floor, pulling my knees up against my chest as I rested my forehead against them.

How was this my life? I was a good kid. I did what I was told, but that wasn’t good enough. Trouble followed me, and men even worse. I wished I could say that my childhood was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to me, but the years after I escaped one hell hole, I found myself in an even worse situation. How I escaped that night, I still didn’t know. It was sheer luck, or God watching over me. But nothing had been right since. Constantly dodging danger and looking over my shoulder was my newest form of torture. Even when I tried to play things cool, I still ended up in trouble.

I needed to leave before someone else got hurt. I tilted my head back, nearly in tears as my shoulder throbbed. I was so tired of constantly moving. I just wanted to move on with my life, meet someone normal, and have the kind of life I’d always dreamed of.

I hung my head, the tears falling faster as I fell apart. Last night had really fucked with me. I’d come too close to dying so many times, and I just wasn’t sure how much longer I could take it. A sob wrenched from deep within and I slapped a hand over my mouth, but it did nothing to stop the pain inside. Nothing could ever make this better.

The shower curtain was wrenched open and I quickly looked up, backing further into the shower as Cash stood before me, gun in hand. I slowly looked away from his eyes, down to his gun. Was he here to kill me? Why would he do that after risking so much to save me?

Then he shocked me by stepping into the shower, boots and all. The blood from his shirt quickly started rinsing down the drain, though not all of it would come out. When he knelt down beside me, I could see the strain in his eyes, the pain he went through just to get to his knees.

Without thinking too much about it, my hand went to the hem of his shirt, dragging it up over his head. His eyes watched me intently as I pulled it off and tossed it out of the shower. I grabbed the soap, lathering it in my hands as I gently washed him, trying to pay him back in some way for all he did for me. He sat stock still as my hands slid over the wound on his side, and then slid around to the back. I nearly started crying when I felt the hole on the other side. So much pain, all because of me. Would it ever stop?

I bit back a sob, but when he wrapped his arm around the back of my neck and pulled me toward him, I lost control. My hands slid around his back and I held him close, crying once again on his chest. I gripped him tight, holding on for dear life. I had no idea what would happen next, and that terrified me. What more could life throw at me? It seemed every time I caught a break, something else happened to mess everything up.

When I felt cried out, I pulled back, mortified that I had used him to comfort me. But when I looked up into his eyes, all I saw was sympathy and questions.

“We should get out,” he murmured, his eyes dropping to my lips.

Licking them in response, I nodded and stood, just now realizing that I was naked in front of him. I ducked my head as he shut off the water and handed me a towel. I did the best I could to wrap it around me while he went to grab our clothes from the kitchen.

“Get dressed, and then we’re going to talk.”

I took the bag from him, knowing there was no way out of this. No matter how much I wanted to hide my past from him, or the events that recently occurred, he had a right to know. After all, he’d risked his life for mine.

I pulled out a pair of jeans and a tank top. There was no bra, but there was a pair of underwear, and luckily, he also bought me a flannel shirt that matched his. Getting dressed was an issue all its own. I couldn’t do anything with only one hand, and when he saw my struggle, he came over and helped me with my jeans, sliding them up my legs as he tried to protect my modesty by looking away.

It was no use hiding anything. He’d already seen all of me in the shower. As he pulled the tank top over my head and helped maneuver my arm through the hole, his eyes lingered just a tad too long on my breasts. Then he stepped back, clearing his throat as he grabbed the flannel off the bed.

“We should make another sling for your arm. It’ll help you heal faster.”

“Okay,” I croaked out.

He helped me finish getting dressed and then rummaged through his supplies, not finding what he wanted. “I need to check downstairs. We might have something we can use.”

“What’s downstairs?”

“It’s a safe room, and where we stay in contact with the main office.”

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