Page 38 of Fighting for Valor
“Well, I hope not—” My phone buzzes, and I frown. No one should be calling me this late. And not on this phone. “Hang on a sec.” Digging for the cheap flip phone I picked up outside of Vegas, I suck in a sharp breath at the number on screen.
Leland.
I hurry a dozen paces away, just far enough I hope Ripper can’t hear me, before I answer. “H-hello?”
“Cara, I need you to listen very carefully.” There’s a muffled curse, followed by a thump, and then the call disconnects.
My heart rate skyrockets, and panic floods my body with adrenaline. Leland wouldn’t have called unless he—or I—were in danger. After I shove the phone back into the pocket of my skirt, I limp back to the church steps and grab my cross-body bag. “I…I have to go, Ripper. I’m sorry. Um…I hope…I hope you get some sleep tonight.”
As I take off at a jog—at least as much of a jog as I can manage with my ankle still sore, he calls my name, but I don’t turn back. I can’t. I have one ID left. I can become Carrie Yates and get on a bus to…somewhere else. And then, Cara Barrett will disappear forever.
Chapter Seventeen
Ripper
Shock slows my movements, and by the time I get to my feet, Cara’s turned the corner onto fifty-third, a full two blocks away. The number on her phone—I didn’t mean to look, but I recognized the area code. Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Why the hell is she getting calls from Fort Bragg?
The fear in her voice…I can’t just ignore it. Running after her, I find her leaning against a lamp post, rubbing her ankle.
“Cara?” She yelps and loses her balance, landing on her hands and knees. “Dammit. I’m sorry.”
“Ripper? You shouldn’t have followed me.”
Tears shine on her cheeks, and I don’t think. I crouch close to her, cupping her jaw and wiping them away. “I may not be able to have a normal conversation with you—or anyone—but I’m not letting you run down a darkened street, crying and alone, when I know you’re scared.”
She stares up at me with such need in her eyes, but behind that, wariness. “This isn’t something you want to get involved in,” she whispers. As she wobbles to her feet, I catch the scent of blood.
“You’re hurt.” I scan her from head to toe, quickly finding the source—a piece of broken glass embedded in her knee. “Stand still.”
Cara leans back against the lamp post, sniffling softly. I use my left hand to hold her leg still, then carefully slide the dirty shard free. She hisses out a breath, and blood drips down her shin.
Pulling a handkerchief from my back pocket, I tie it around her knee, just tight enough to hopefully stop the blood from soaking into her sock and shoe. “How’s your ankle?” I ask once I’m standing again.
“It’ll be fine,” she insists, but as soon as she takes a step, I know it won’t be.
“Stop, Cara.” Planting myself in front of her—but not touching her, because shit…her skin was so soft, and having my hands on her…it made me want…things I can’t ever have again—I cross my arms over my chest. “Let me help you get home. As soon as you’re inside, I’ll leave, and you don’t ever have to see me again.”
Her expression tells me she wants to protest, so I arch a brow. “That ankle’s not going to hold up. And whatever’s got you spooked, pretty sure you’re going to want both legs fully functional to take it on. You know what I am…what I was,” I say, gesturing to my tattoo. “We don’t lie, we don’t cheat, and we don’t hurt the innocent. Ever.”
Cara shivers in the cool night air, and I shrug out of my sweatshirt and hold it open for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.
She blows out a breath, then seems to deflate as she lets me help her on with the hoodie. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to do. The last time I trusted someone…”
“You want to compare war stories? Because mine won’t be pretty.”
She’s chewing on her lip hard enough I’m afraid she’s going to bite it clean through, but eventually, she frees the abused flesh and sighs. “Okay. Just…to my apartment.”
I hold out my hand. “I’m going to touch you now. Okay? Put my arm around your waist so I can support some of your weight?”
Her nod doesn’t do much for my confidence. I haven’t been this close to someone—at least not while conscious—in a long time, and her curves mold to my side. The fruity scent of her shampoo tickles my nose. Something tropical. “Where to, sunshine?”
“Two blocks up.”
The walk takes us almost ten minutes because with every step, her limp worsens, and she’s still shivering. Adrenaline crash.
“No exterior lock?” I ask as we reach the dilapidated four-story apartment building.
“Not one that works.” Her tone has turned bitter, and she shakes her head as she leads me into the building foyer. “This is…stupid. I’ve been so careful for so long, but…” As Cara looks up at me, true fear lingers behind her eyes. “Screw it. Will you come up with me? Just to make sure my apartment’s…safe?”
