ADDICTED

19

"We'll find who did it," I assured her. "I have plenty of resources. For now, we need to get you the station so you can complete the report. Think you can manage?"

Swallowing, she nodded and turned to walk away. I came so close to grabbing her hips and reeling her into me, almost overcome with the need to protect her. It took everything in me not to.

God damn it.

I blew out a sharp breath through my nose before walking around to the front passenger door.

When we arrived at the police station, I had to all but pull Leah out. She tried to make up excuses to come back later, but I was adamant. I thought the police were by and large useless but, if there was any chance at all they could find the intruder, I would not let this opportunity pass.

We left the car on for the cat and headed inside the manicured brick building. As soon as we entered, I was hit with the stench of body odor and bleach. The line at the reception desk was rather long and the waiting area chairs didn't appear to have been sanitized even once since their assembly with mysterious stains. I instantly wanted to leave and scour myself in a steamy shower. But I forced myself to focus on what mattered here by rubbing my shoulder against Leah's.

She didn't appear to mind the putrid smell or crowd of people, though. Her eyes remained locked on the desk ahead, her mouth pressed into a line. Once we'd been seen, she sat very still in her chair until the paperwork was given to her. Then she focused intently, hand gripping the pen until her knuckles were leaked of all color. I slowly let my leg lean into hers. She glanced up at me for a fleeting moment, as if my touch stirred her from the trance. Her eyes were dark and tired. I wished to take away the fear and pain in them more than anything else at this moment.

The only way I could think of doing that, though, was by convincing her to stay with me.

At last, we were brought to an office cubicle in the back. An older man in a black officer uniform with a handlebar mustache and close-cropped hair greeted us. Three cups of cold, half-consumed coffee sat amongst the piles of papers and folders on his desk. He read over the information Leah had written down and then summoned his archaic monitor to life.

He asked Leah a series of questions. Though I listened, noticing the inflection in Leah's voice as she responded, I was more focused on studying her. The roundness of her cheeks, the smooth cleft of her chin, and the scrunch of her forehead. Several slight lines remained etched in her skin in the few moments she wasn't twisting her face up. She looked more distraught now than she had in that courtroom eons ago.

That protective urge bubbled up inside me yet again. How could my brother have done the things to her that he did? His obsession with Leah, I understood. She had a subtle way of slipping into a man's heart and cock that one couldn't prepare for. But Jarrod's crippling need to cage her? To force her love? I couldn't comprehend it. Seeing her in distress was like a bullet to the lungs. I didn't know what I would do if I ever caused her to feel that way.

She suddenly looked over at me, her eyes tearfully regarding me. My thoughts dispersed as I focused back in on the conversation with the officer.

"She's coming to stay with me," I told the officer. "She doesn't need a security detail because she won't be staying there. My house is very secluded and secure. If someone is out to hurt her, she'll be safe with me."

He nodded grimly and continued. By the time we finished the report, evening had arrived, setting a backdrop of faint bruised purple across the vanishing horizon.

"Would you like me to drive?" I offered while we neared Leah's car.

"No," she said immediately. Then, glancing at the road, she swallowed. "Yes."