Rampage didn't do long goodbyes or lingering phone conversations. He wasn’t much of a phone person at all, truth be told. Didn’t enjoy texting and sure as hell didn’t have any social media presence. He handed Emily's phone back through the cracked window, watched her tuck it into her purse with hands that were still trembling, and stood up. Turned back to where Irish and Savage had the two men pinned in the headlight wash near the truck.
Irish had his phone out, photographing the plates. Savage stood with his arms crossed and said absolutely nothing, which was, in Rampage's experience, significantly more threatening than anything he could have said out loud. Savage was his brother, if not by blood, then by combat.
The men had the look of bottom-feeders who'd just realized the water they were in was a lot deeper than they'd thought. Younger than he expected. Nervous in a way that was almost satisfying. They lacked the confidence that came from experience. He’d get to the bottom of why they were intimidating his girl and make sure they knew the consequences of ever acting this way in or around Grand Ridge again.
"You're going to want to start explaining," Rampage said, walking toward them. Calm. Even. "And you're going to want to do it quickly, because my patience runs out fast and it's already been a long night."
"We were just checking on her." The bigger one. Ball cap, thick neck, and mouth that didn't know when to stop. "Lady alone with a broken-down car. We were being neighborly."
"Neighborly." Rampage looked at him for a long moment. "You followed her off the highway, circled her car, and tried the door handles. That's notneighborly. That’s predatory.”
"We didn't do?—"
"Irish's got your plates and your photos." He interrupted the man without raising his voice. He didn’t need to. "By morning our good buddy at the sheriff's department is going to have a real interesting report to look at. You want to be somewhere else when that happens, I'd suggest you get in your truck and drive. Now. And you don't come back through Grand Ridge. Ever. I can’t guarantee your safety if you return."
The men exchanged a look. The ball cap one started to say something else.
Savage took one step forward before he could get a sentence out.
They got in the truck.
Rampage watched the taillights disappear onto the highway, memorized the plate anyway, years of combat and practiced observation training made it routine. He then stood there in the empty lot for a moment in the sudden quiet.
His jaw was tight. Had been since Tyler's call came through. He didn’t want to scare Emily, so he took a deep breath, held it for a beat and released it. He repeated this three times before he intentionally dropped his shoulders, rolled his head a couple times and turned back to her car.
She'd gotten out while he wasn't looking. Standing next to the CR-V, her arms were wrapped around herself, and she was trying very hard to hold it together. He could see the effort it was having on her. Her shoulders were set and she was taking deep, deliberate breaths, as if she was counting. One of her yoga techniques, maybe. She had blonde hair that the parking lot's single working light caught in a way that made her look younger than she was, and curves that her oversized hoodie did nothing to hide, and eyes that were still wet from crying but watching him with an expression he recognized.
Not fear. Not anymore.
Something else. Something she probably didn't have a name for yet. He did.
She didn’t know it yet, but he suspected she was his.
She was his from the moment she slid into the booth across from him last week at The Rusty Crab. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. He was planning on making a trip to the Springs soon to visit Tyler and meet his new little girl Chloe… and track down Emily and demand to know why she hadn’t returned his calls or texts. He didn’t like being ghosted. But, that was a conversation for another day. She looked exhausted and all he wanted to do was get her back to the compound where she would be safe, make her a nice warm cup of chocolate milk and tuck her into bed.
He walked over. Stopped in front of her. She tipped her chin up to look at him and didn't back away, which told him something. She wasn’t scared of him. Good. He didn’t want her afraid of him, not ever. He wanted her to know she was safe with him. Even when he took her over his knee and laid down the law. Which his palm was itching to do. Traveling alone, without telling anyone? Going to a stranger’s house? Not answering his calls? Oh yeah, there were a lot of things he was itching to holdher accountable for. Instead, he focused on comforting her and getting her to safety.
"You doing okay?" he asked.
"Mostly." Her voice was steadier now. "I think my legs might be broken."
"They're not broken."
"They feel like it."
"Adrenaline." He glanced at her car. "We're going to tow your car back to our mechanic shop."
"What's wrong with it?"
"Don't know yet. Need to look at it in daylight." He paused. "I don't think it broke down on its own."
She stared at him. Processing that. "What does that mean?"
"It means, I don't want you worrying about it tonight." He watched her face. She wanted to push, he could see it, that independent streak working behind her eyes, and he let the silence sit there until she let it go.
"Okay," she said, quietly.
"You're coming back to the compound with me. Chloe knows. Tyler knows. You'll have your own space. You’ll stay in my officer apartment. It’s private and the door locks. There are other women there, I think you’ll like them. They are good girls, a bit naughty, but good. Nobody's going to push you into anything you don’t want to do, but you’ll be safe there Emily."
