Besides, I’m fine.
There’s not even a scratch on me, I don’t think.
In that bathroom, carrying a pair of black leggings and a long, heavy cream sweater in my arms to change into, I finally see myself in the mirror for the first time.
And I look like absolute shit.
My skin is paler than usual, the mascara smeared underneath both of my eyes, and my hair is coming undone. But the worst part to face is my shirt that’s ripped all the way down, not a single button spared. The lacy cup on one of my bras is pulled back, making me remember the stranger’s gloved hand squeezing it.
I drop the clothes on the counter and hurry back into my bedroom, my fingers keeping the two sides of my suit jacket together while I look for a new bra and underwear. I want a shower and a complete change of attire before I talk to the police. In fact, back in the bathroom, after I take my shirt and bra off, I throw them both away because I never want to see either of them again.
While I take a quick, hot shower to scrub my skin, I don’t wash my hair because I know I need to hurry up. I keep listening out for the door, wondering if Cannon would let the police officers in when they get here. All I know is that I feel safe knowing he’s outside. Which scares me almost as much as the intruders who assaulted me.
I can’t afford to let myself start depending on the outlaw biker. This time he may have come to my rescue, but he won’t always be around. That’s one of the first lessons I learned growing up – I only have myself to depend on. Everyone else in my life eventually let me down.
And while I want to trust Cannon, I’m still not sure if I do.
He and the Savage Kings are only helping me because they hate Bailey and want him to lose the election. They would be backing anyone else going against him; I just happen to be the only person crazy enough to take on the challenge.
Once I’ve dried off, I reapply my makeup, redo my hair and get dressed, all without hearing any voices in the living room or any knocks on the door.
When there’s one on the locked bathroom door right before I’m about to come out, it nearly makes me jump out of my skin.
“It’s me,” Cannon’s voice says through the door. “It’s been forty minutes, and there hasn’t been any sign of a cop or a police cruiser in the complex.”
I don’t want to admit that he was right. So, when I jerk the door open, I say, “How do I know you didn’t run them off?”
Cannon’s eyes scan my new outfit quickly, then my face. I would almost say that he looked momentarily relieved before he replies. “You know I wouldn’t do that. The cops aren’t coming. They never were. I’m sorry about that. I’m sure you would rather have someone in uniform here than me, but I’m all you’ve got.” His hands gesture to himself, and I wish my body wasn’t instantly affected by him the way it is. And it’s like the harder I try to resist, the more attractive the biker becomes.
The worst part is, I think I actually believe him.
“So, what do you suggest I do now?” I ask because I don’t have a clue.
“You can’t stay here alone tonight,” Cannon says simply.
“So where am I going to sleep?” I know that I could stay here, but I don’t really want to. I would toss and turn all night, getting startled by every little sound, afraid that the men have come back to finish what they started.
“The police can’t protect you from Bailey, but I can,” he tells me. “The Savage Kings can keep you safe, if you’ll give us the chance.”
“Okay, fine,” I agree because I’m out of options. “Now what?”
“Pack a bag. You’re coming to stay with me and Conrad until the election.”
“I’m not sleeping with you,” I blurt out almost a little bit too defensively.
“You won’t have to,” he says, hands braced on his hips. “We have a spare bedroom.”
“Why can’t I just get a hotel room?” I ask because spending time in his home, with him always around is not going to help me keep fighting the attraction.
“Because I don’t want to sleep in a hotel where people are always coming and going. My house is safe. The prospects can take turns sleeping on the sofa and standing guard. We have security cameras and alarms. And if I’m not there, my brother and Hannah probably will be. You’ll be safer there than you will be anywhere else in the city.”
His explanation doesn’t leave much room for argument. And I’ve already given him a hard enough time as it is. If I had just let him and the prospects come inside, then maybe the intruders wouldn’t have ever laid a hand on me.
“Well?” Cannon asks. “Are we going to stand here and argue about it for another hour, or can we get moving?”
“Give me a few minutes to pack,” I reply; and for a second, his face looks surprised.
“I’ll wait in the living room,” he says before he slips away.
I pull out my medium size rolling luggage and a hanging bag and get to work, making sure I have about four days’ worth of outfits and pajamas. Once I grab my travel toiletry bag, I haul part of it into the living room and find Cannon rummaging through my cabinets.
“What are you doing?”
“Just checking out your stash, seeing what you like to eat.” He closes the wooden doors and turns to face me. “You expecting
