As always…..I do not own these characters. All rights go to E.L. James
"Saving You, Saving Me"
Chapter 10
Wide awake despite the fact she'd made sure the curtains were closed last night, Ana checked her watch. The face glowed brightly in the dim room. Ten minutes to seven. She'd hoped for another deep, dreamless night of sleep, but no go.
She'd been too keyed up, both by her awareness of Christian as a handsome, attractive man and by the fact she'd prayed. Something she hadn't done since she was a young child. She supposed those long ago Sunday school lessons had planted seeds of faith in her heart that she wasn't aware of. Christian's faith had stirred those seeds to life. She didn't know if they'd grow or wither away.
To distract herself from all the confusion messing with her peace of mind, she'd reached for the bag of peanut M&M's and the medical review magazine she'd bought at the store. At the rate she was going, she'd gain five pounds before the weekend was up. Somewhere in the wee hours of the morning she'd finally drifted off.
She rose and dressed, then made her way down the hall. At the closed door to Christian's room, she paused. Should she wake him? Probably. Her shadow wouldn't be too happy if she left the house without him. She knocked. Nothing. She knocked again. Still no answer. He must already be up.
She went downstairs and entered the kitchen to find Christian sitting at the table reading the newspaper. His unruly hair was damp, as if he'd recently showered, and his jaw clean shaven. He wore dark cargo pants and green t-shirt that stretched against his well-defined chest in such a distracting way she forced herself to look at his nose. "Good morning."
"Good morning. You're up early." She smiled as if she were calmer than she was, and then turned to concentrate on making coffee.
"I hope I didn't disturb you," he said.
If she didn't count how his good looks got to her. "Not at all." She inhaled the aroma of the dark roast coffee filling the pot. She eyed the newspaper and the Bible sitting next to him. "Doing a little light reading?"
"When I can, but especially on Sunday mornings."
She hadn't realized it was Sunday. Usually she spent the day at the clinic, since it was her official day off at the hospital. She handed him a mug of coffee and then sat down at the table next to him. "You said you didn't grow up with faith."
"One of my buddies in the SEALs was a believer." A sad light entered his eyes. "Welch helped me to understand my need for faith."
The look of grief stealing over him made her heart pound. "Is he…?"
"Dead?" He nodded stiffly. "Yes. He was killed in action."
She ached for him, for the loss of his friend. "And yet you still believe?"
A slight smile curved his mouth. "You think I should blame God for Welch's death?"
She sipped her coffee, stalling. She didn't know what to think. This was very confusing for her. Her head and science told her there wasn't a God, but deep in her heart those seeds of faith tugged at her to believe. "Don't you?"
"No. He didn't pull the trigger on the AK-47 that stole Welch's life. An insurgent did that."
She tried to remember more of the lessons she'd learned as a child. "But isn't part of faith believing that He is in control?"
"God is in control." He said it with conviction in his tone.
Anguish welled from deep within her. She only wished having faith was as easy for her as it was for Christian. "If He's in control, then why did He let your friend die?" Her voice came out harsh, accusatory. "Why does He allow war? Disease?" Her voice cracked on the word.
He set his mug down and reached across the table to engulf her free hand in his much bigger ones. They were warm and callused and electrified, but the compassion flowing through him distracted her and brought tears to her eyes. She blinked rapidly, fighting to hang on to her composure.
"God didn't make your father sick, Ana," he said gently.
Her heart beat rapidly with hope and skepticism. "Can He heal him?"
"I've no doubt He could. But healing your father may not be His will."
Not what she wanted to hear. "You said I shouldn't lose hope that God will heal my father. But yet you're saying it might not be God's will to heal him. How can I have hope when there's no guarantee He'll do as I want?"
"That's where faith comes in. You have to trust there is a plan. And sometimes that doesn't line up with what we want."
She didn't want her father to suffer, to die. Being a doctor didn't make her immune to heartache. "It's not fair."
"Life's not fair," Christian stated softly, each word full of pain. "Never promised it would be."
Guilt swamped her. Christian had lost his mother to disease, too. And yet he didn't blame anyone. "Could comfort really be found in faith?"
"Yes." Conviction rang in his voice. "Knowing that a loving God cares for me and has a plan for me gives me peace."
She clung to Christian's hand for a moment as a need grew within her that she didn't understand. She wanted what he had. She wanted to have peace, comfort and faith.
Ana slipped her hand away from Christian's as Gail entered the kitchen.
"Good morning, my darlings," Gail said.
Ana rose. "There's fresh coffee brewed. And I can make some eggs if anyone is interested."
"The smell of coffee lured me out of my bed," Gail said, taking a mug from the cupboard. "Toast is all I have time for this morning. I'm off to church. Would you two care to join me?"
The thought of going to church grabbed ahold of Ana. She hadn't set foot in a church since she was twelve, when she'd finally told her parents she didn't want to go anymore. She remembered the hurt on her mother's face, the disapproval in her father's eyes. Her gaze sought Christian's. "Could we go?"
Surprise brightened the grey of his eyes. "You want to?"
She understood his surprise. She'd made it clear she wasn't sure about any type of faith. But the thoughts of going to church appealed to her this morning. Maybe because of Christian's steadfast faith or their conversation. Maybe because her father was so ill and she needed something, someone, to give her hope. Maybe because her life seemed so empty right now. "Yes. I would like to. If you think it would be safe for us to."
He contemplated her for a moment. "There's some risk. If someone else recognizes you and word gets out that you're in town, it could lead the killer here."
Anger at this unknown person making her life a living nightmare had her fingers curling. "Running into Ryan was a fluke. I don't know anyone in this town. How about I wear a hat and glasses?"
"Like a celebrity hiding from the paparazzi?" Gail said.
If only hiding were that simple. But it wasn't. She couldn't go back into an operating room until her life was no longer in danger. Ana waited for Christian's decision. She trusted Christian's judgement. She'd come to rely on her bodyguard. She was afraid that she was also growing to care for him more than she should, more than was safe.
Christian gave a slow nod. "But we sit in back and you keep a low profile."
They arrived at the small community church on the edge of town just after the service started. Christian led Ana and Gail in. He scanned the sanctuary quickly, noting the exit doors. They found seats in the very last pew. Ana sat between Christian and Gail. Her face was well hidden behind the large brimmed sun hat and big round glasses she'd donned before leaving the cabin. Christian saw a few curious glances from mostly the women parishioners. They probably did wonder if some Hollywood figure was sitting in their midst. He still had a hard time believing she'd wanted to come to church. Her attitude had been so rigidly against faith just a few days ago. But then again, having someone trying to kill you could put life into perspective. Whatever the case, he hoped she'd find the peace that could only be found in faith.
An older woman with flame red hair played a piano in the corner. The melody rose from the instrument, a clear and pleasing sound. Taking the hymnal from the pocket of the back of the seat in front of him, he consulted the program and then turned to the hymn the congregation was singing.
He held it so Ana could read the words. She sang softly, her voice light and airy. He stopped singing to listen to her.
She nudged him.
He grinned and resumed adding his baritone voice to hers. He liked this, liked being with her, and could easily envision a lifetime of mornings with her.
Whoa! Where had those thoughts come from?
He didn't want to settle down. He didn't want to be tied to another person. Thinking of Ana in terms of a lifetime wasn't happening. Not today or any day.
When the music ended, the pastor stepped to the pulpit. Young and charismatic, the pastor read from the first chapter of the book of John. Christian hadn't realized how starved for the word of God he'd been. Feeling as if his soul was being nourished, he listened while keeping a vigilant eye for anything that could possibly pose a threat to Ana. At one point he glanced at her. She was listening, really listening. Her expression was intent, her eyes sharp. She was absorbing the words and hopefully the message.
When the service ended, Christian hustled the women to the SUV before too many people had vacated the building.
Gail sighed. "That was lovely. Thank you, Christian, for taking us."
"You're welcome." He glanced at Ana.
She smiled. "I'm still taking it in."
"Good enough." Considering how closed off she'd been to faith not that long ago, any progress was welcome.
"I'd like to call my parents again," she said. "They haven't answered the last two times I called."
He handed his cell over.
By the look of concern on her face, they weren't picking up. He made a mental note to call Detective Clark when they returned to the house and have the detective check on them.
When they arrived back at the lake cabin, dark clouds hovered on the horizon. The weatherman's prediction of a storm was proving true. The air grew thicker with humidity. Leaves blowing in the wind swirled in the air.
Christian opened the front door of the house and stepped inside.
Ana stepped inside beside him. "Oh, no."
"My house!" Gail exclaimed.
The place had been ransacked. The cushions of the couch and two armchairs were shredded, as were the curtains that once hung over the windows. Pictures had been taken down and the glass crushed on the floor.
The destruction was similar to that at Ana's apartment. Like a taunt. The egomaniac after Ana wanted to make sure they knew they'd been found. No doubt about it, the guy had a personal grudge against Ana to grind.
Christian reached for his weapon.
Time to retreat. He hustled the women back to the safety of the SUV. One look at the tires sent his blood jolting through his system.
All four tires had been slashed.
Apprehension climbed on his back and rode him hard. Their intruder was close by, and he wanted Christian to know it. "Back inside, quick."
Without questioning him, Ana and Gail rushed toward the front door. Christian kept a close watch on the tree line. When they were securely inside, Christian called 911. The dispatcher said the nearest unit was fifteen minutes out.
Christian prayed they had fifteen minutes.
"There's someone out there," Christian said, turning from the window.
The fierce expression on his face made Ana swallow.
In that moment she saw the warrior, the Navy SEAL expert in underwater demolition.
He wasn't just a thrill seeker, but a man of action. A man who stood between her and certain death. His hand gripped his weapon with ease.
She missed the grin, longed for him to put his arms around her, making her feel safe.
"Upstairs, now!"
His whispered command galvanized Ana into action. She didn't question him. He was here to protect her, and she trusted him to do just that. She grabbed Gail's arm and ran for the stairs with Christian right behind them.
As they hit the top stair, the sound of breaking glass sent shards of panic along Ana's nerve endings.
"To the back bedroom," Christian said, his voice low, urging them forward. He pushed the door open. "Inside. Lock the door and don't open it until I tell you."
"What are you going to do? She asked, reluctant to let him face this threat alone. They were dealing with a killer; two people had already died. She didn't want him to be a third. "Stay with us."
He ran a knuckle down her cheek. His sudden tenderness, the way his whole body gentled, rocked her. I'll be right outside this door. No one's getting to you without going through me first."
A fresh wave of panic washed over her. He'd die protecting them. The thought filled her with a deep anguish that felt like a physical blow. "That's what I'm afraid of."
His eyes widened slightly. Then he grinned. "Don't worry. I can handle this."
"But what if…" Tears burned her eyes. His death would be another burden for her to carry.
He pressed a finger lightly to her lips. "Shhhh. Trust me."
Pressing her lips together to keep from begging him not to leave, she nodded. Please, please, please keep him safe.
He stepped back, pulling the door closed with him. Ana's heart squeezed tight. If anything happened to him…
Gail put her arm around Ana's shoulder. "He'll be fine. This is what he's good at."
She told herself Gail was right. He was a SEAL, trained to take out bad guys. But even knowing that couldn't stop the terror from invading her mind and her heart. In such a short span of time, she'd come to rely on him in a way she'd never done with anyone else. He'd become dear to her. Stunned, she realized her heart had become involved. And she didn't know what to do about it.
"You care for him," Gail stated softly.
"Yes," she admitted quietly. Cared. Such a simple and generic word. Caring meant friendship, mutual enjoyment of each other's company. Caring meant she didn't want anything bad to happen to him. All true.
But she couldn't let herself go beyond caring. He was a temporary fixture in her life. She had a job she longed to return to. Having deeper feelings for her bodyguard would only lead to heartache. She had enough of that going on right now with her father's diagnosis to voluntarily ask for more. As much as she liked and cared for Christian, she couldn't let her heart become any more attached, because it would hurt too much when he left. And leave he would.
Her life was in Seattle. His wasn't. End of story.
As minutes ticked by, her anxiety grew, compelling her to search the room for something, anything for her and Gail to defend themselves with. Where was Christian? Was he just outside the door, or had he gone hunting for the intruder? Or was he lying somewhere in the house, hurting and possibly dying while a madman searched for her?
She yanked a brass table lamp off the bedside stand and tested its weight. She could do some damage with this. But it wouldn't stop a bullet.
The sound of sirens announcing the arrival of the police brought welcome relief. Both from the fear lodged in her throat like a rock and the thoughts of Christian hurt tying her insides up in knots.
A knock on the door jump started her heart.
"It's safe. You can unlock the door," Christian said.
Hearing Christian's voice eased the lump of dread from her throat. She unlocked the door and pulled it open. Christian stood there, unharmed, with that cocky smile she was beginning to grow used to.
She fought the need to touch his face, and prove to herself he was okay. Her stomach clenched, and the urge to fly into his arms and cling to him in relief welled. It took every ounce of control she possessed to resist.
Wrapping her arms around her middle and firmly tucking her hands away, she asked, "What happened?"
"Guy bolted when he heard the siren."
Did you see him? What did he look like?" Ana asked, still reeling that they'd been found.
"He was dressed all in black. Didn't get a look at his face." He held out his hand. "Time to roll."
Slipping her hand into his, she felt the strength in his grip and hoped like crazy that her heart would have as much strength to resist the allure of her bodyguard. Because if she didn't, the eventual heartache would cut her to the quick.
A cut she wasn't sure she'd recover from.