Captivated (Whiskey Run Book 2) by Hope Ford (suggested reading TXT) 📗

I cross my arms over my chest. I have to or else I’m going to run the few feet and grab on to him and make him promise me to keep me safe. “I don’t need someone to take care of me.”

“That’s all well and good. But you are now an employee of the Barrett Ranch. We look out for our own. So as long as you’re here, I’m going to look out for you.”

He’s staring at me as if he’s daring me to argue with him on this. I’ve never in my life seen a man like him. I have no doubt in my mind that he will keep his word on this. He will protect me. But I’m not used to this. I’m not used to someone caring about me, no less protecting me. “You don’t have to…”

He holds his hands up and interrupts me. “No one is going to hurt you ever again.”

He says it with finality and walks off into his bedroom and shuts the door.

Stunned, I stare after him. I can’t imagine it… I can barely imagine not being hurt in one day.

Instantly, I start to think about a future where I don’t have to worry about what’s happening. Overwhelmed, my eyes start to well up. It’s been forever since I cried, and now here I am, in a stranger’s house and he’s just a little bit nice to me and I start blubbering.

I’m wiping my eyes as fast as the tears fall when his bedroom door suddenly opens again.

His mouth drops in shock before he rushes to me. Instead of retreating, I let him take me in his arms. His hug is tight and soothing.

And I melt into him. I’ve never in my life felt safe before, but right now, I feel safe.

It’s a foreign feeling that completely catches me off guard.

And I cry harder.

He’s rubbing my back with one hand and holding me with the other. “Go ahead, let it all out.”

My sobs get bigger, and my whole body shakes from them.

He pulls back, and I’m afraid he’s letting me go, so I hold him tighter.

In an awkward move, he bends down and puts one arm behind my knees and picks me up. I hold on to him as he carries me toward the couch and sits down with me in his lap.

He doesn’t say a word, just holds me and lets me cry.

Brett

I came back out of my room because I hate that I just left her like that. My innate yearning to take care of her is strong inside me. I can’t imagine something happening to her. But as soon as the door closed, I worried that she would just leave. And I can’t have that. I panicked and was ready to apologize. But when I opened the door, I never dreamed I’d find her crying.

She’s killing me, and I don’t know what to do.

So I hold her. She’s so small compared to me and I am afraid I’m holding her too tight, but if I loosen my grip, she grabs on to me even tighter.

I bend down and hook one arm under her legs and pick her up. She’s light as a feather.

She doesn’t fight me.

I walk over to the couch, and I’m about to set her down on it, but quickly change my mind. Instead, I sit down with her in my lap. She melts into my body, and I'm surprised by how it makes me feel. I feel like I would do anything to protect her. Anything at all.

I let her cry, the whole time rubbing her back and offering her soothing words. I wait until it seems that she may be calming. “I didn't mean to upset you,” I whisper softly against the top of her head.

She snorts and sniffles at the same time. No doubt all the emotions tonight have her on edge. “You didn't upset me. Actually you being nice to me is well, everything. Thank you for that.”

Confused, I ask her, “What, by saying I'd protect you?”

She nods. “Exactly that. I've never had anyone in my corner, and whether you meant it or not, it means everything to me.”

I cup her jaw and lift her chin, which is resting on my chest. Even now more than ever I feel it all the way to my bones. I can't let anything happen to this woman. Nothing. When her eyes are on mine, I tell her honestly, "No one is ever going to hurt you again, Heather."

She winces. "Emma. My name is Emma."

A soft smile breaks on my face. I’d wondered if she had lied to me or not. "Emma. Okay, so in order for me to help you, I need to know what we're facing here. Tell me and I'll help you."

She shakes her head. "I won't go back."

I nod my head in agreement. She’s right: If I have a say in it, she won’t go back. Ever. "You can stay here for as long as you need to."

“You say that, but you don't know what I did.”

“Tell me,” I urge her.

She takes a deep breath, and I can feel her small body rattle with it. She's so tiny in my arms. "My father is was not right. Ever since my mother died, he's been crazy. He drinks all the time. He never let me leave the house. Made me homeschool. I wasn't allowed to do anything. I told myself when I graduated high school and was eighteen I would leave, but it's like he knew that. He had locks on all the windows and doors, and I couldn't get out. In the last two years, I haven't been out of the house at all. He came home drunk today. The middle of the day and he was already so wasted. I knew what was coming. It happens every time