“It’s no different from when you tell your clients how to take care of the artwork you’ve spent so much time on. We love the piece you did for Santiago, by the way. Your mental health is just as sacred as the art you do.” She has more to say, but the ruckus outside the door draws our attention.
My heart squeezes when I recognize his voice right before Snake bursts through the double doors of the infirmary.
“The fuck, Saban.” He growls, not stopping when he sees Mimi.
Coming to stand before me, his chest heaving like he’s run a marathon, he doesn’t take his gaze off me. He seems to be cataloging every bruise I inflicted on myself.
His gaze is harrowed and pained when it reaches mine. “Is she good for me to take her home?” he asks her.
“Yes. Make sure she takes her prescriptions and keeps the referral appointment.” Stepping back, she gives me room to stand.
My feet don’t get a chance to touch the ground. He sweeps me into his big, powerful arms. Instinctively, I bury my face in the safe harbor I have always found there.
His voice sounds gruffer when he mutters. “Thanks, Dr. Everything.” Striding out of the room.
Chapter nineteen
COMFORT
SNAKE
Double-timing it to the Sheriff’s department with my heart thudding like it wants to escape my chest, I didn’t know what to expect when I got the alert that Saban was there. Housed in the same building as the county courthouse and the morgue could mean anything.
She’d been resting peacefully this morning when I stopped back by before heading back to Birmingham after my appointment with the sheriff earlier.
With the person stalking Kandie still on the loose, and the break-in, I couldn’t be certain if they were focused squarely on her or any woman they think is vulnerable. My coming to watch over her every night is a deterrent, but when someone is fixated, there is no telling what they will attempt to get their interest’s notice.
Parking around the back, I skirt around the manicured side of the building, bolting up the stone steps of the building.
“Where is she?” I demand walking past a stunned Lydia sitting at the front desk, her finger frozen mid-swipe on the tablet, with barely a nod of acknowledgment.
“The Infirmary.” I hear her say not breaking stride.
Ulysses is noncommittal and won’t even confirm Saban is there. A diminutive, buttoned-up woman is lingering with an FBI badge emblazoned on her jacket. She looks shocked at my presence.
Telling me “you can’t go in there” almost gets Ulysses’ big ass murked. Acting like he’d do anything different if it came to Kandie’s little messy ass has me rolling my eyes. Not to mention he didn’t call and tell me about her being here is definitely going to have us moving around some furniture real soon.
“Get the fuck outta my way.” Shoving past him is easier than I realize, but he isn’t really trying to keep me out.
Bursting through the doors and seeing her banged-up like that is enough to bring me up short. Realizing that she did it to herself nearly brings me to my knees.
Powerless to do anything else, I listen as Dr. Everything quietly gives me instructions on taking care of her. “Please make sure she sets the referral appointment with Dr. Kinsington.” Nodding, I don’t take my eyes off her patient, just ready to get her out of this place.
My heart swells full to bursting when she nestles her head into my neck, letting me hold her.
Ulysses gives me a blanket as I leave, letting me out the back to protect her privacy. Wrapping it around her, we shared a look of “we’ll talk about this later” because the FBI agent hovering not far away scrutinizing the situation.
Nodding, I turned from them, heading out, barely registering the heated exchange between them about him not having the authority to override her decision to keep Saban longer.
“Let me,” I say, securing the seatbelt when she tries to fumble for it. Going around to my side, I back out of the parking space in the rear of the building to take her home.
Debating the entire way over to her place, with my need to take her back to the fortress I built to keep her safe warring within me, the short drive to her tattoo shop. Something inside of me says if I do take her to my home I wouldn’t let her leave again not even to work.
I know the man I am. I know his need to protect her, even from herself, is like a bright, vicious thing burning hot in my soul. It’s in overdrive after seeing her in the infirmary, bandaged from feet to head from the self-harm of a panic attack. It’s been years since it presented in this horrific manner.
“I got you.” Gathering her tight little form balled-up so tightly on the passenger side, I make sure the blanket is covering her, tucking the sides in before I take the stairs to her loft two at a time.
Unlocking the door, I kick it closed once we are inside, striding over to the bed. Sitting her on it, I come to my haunches, so I can meet the beautiful brown of her eyes.
