Chapter Thirteen

Sookie's POV

Eric bends and scoops me from my place on the floor. He cradles me to his chest for a moment before setting me gently on the closest chair. I glance at the crowd of people surrounding us but am too stunned to care I'm the spectacle for the moment. I can't believe that just happened.

Still in shock, I'm surprised when Eric kneels at my feet and almost gasp as his warm hand closes on my calf. His gentle fingers divest me of my shoe and his hand slides to support my sore ankle.

"Can you move it?" he asks, looking up at me for confirmation. I shake myself back to the here and now and focus on his words. It takes me a moment to figure out what he's after, but once I put it together I point my toe obediently. I'm pleased to see my ankle straighten, but can't hold back the grimace of pain.

"Uh huh," I confirm, blinking my eyes to ward off the tears that had sprung up automatically with the sensation.

"Push down," he orders, flatting his hand against the bottom of my foot. I press down, as ordered and can feel him pressing back into me. This doesn't hurt quite as much as the toe pointing and I manage to keep the pain off my face.

"Good. Can feel this?" he asks, tickling my foot with the tips of his fingers. I meet his eyes and manage a smile.

"Yes."

"I don't think it's broken, but we should probably get some ice on it. Can you walk?"

"I think so," I say uncertainly taking a good look at my foot. It doesn't look too bad, just a little on the swollen side, so I am feeling optimistic. I wiggle my toes gently and am glad that they move without pain. What was Bill doing anyway? Did he really think I would go with him after he'd just punched my professor? But, in all fairness, what had I been doing dancing with my professor in the first place?

"Pam," Eric barks suddenly, startling me from my thoughts and making me jump. He scans the crowd until the blonde woman I am starting to see everywhere materializes in front of us. "See to that man," he commands with a nod to Quinn. "Call the police if he wants to press charges. And take care of the rest of these people."

He turns back to me with a smile, seemingly shutting out the rest of the room, and helps me slide off the chair. I am thrilled to discover that I can stand on my foot and put some weight on it, though it's definitely tender. I step forward cautiously and say a small prayer of thanks that I remain upright. Eric places his hand on my back and takes my right hand in his to help keep me steady. The moral support is great, but the heat I can feel coming off his body through my clothing is more than a little distracting.

The crowd in front of us separates as I start the long trek across the room. Eric seems to be leading me to the door he appeared through earlier in the night. My ankle throbs with every step and I feel like I'm slowing down the closer I get to my destination, but Eric stays with me the entire way, matching his stride to my shaky gait.

The door, it turns out, leads to a small, dark hallway. The passageway is fairly short and gray like the rest of the place. As we step inside and the door closes behind us, I notice there are several doors lining the hall. I don't have a chance to read the placards affixed to them before Eric releases my hand and scoops me up in his arms. I manage to stifle a yelp of surprise.

"Put me down! I can certainly do without the assistance," I say, giving him a scowl. If I'm being honest with myself, I really don't mind him lifting me too much since my ankle is killing me, but it's awfully presumptuous to just pluck me up off the ground and carry me. At least he waited until we were out of the eye line of the crowd.

"I know you can," he says, with a devilish smile, "but what would be the fun in that?"

I wriggle on principle, trying to free myself from his grasp, but he only laughs and holds me tighter. I can feel the corners of my lips turn up despite themselves.

He manages to free a hand and open the only door on the left wall before carrying me into what must be his office. Completely different from the rest of the bar, this room is relaxed and casual, while still maintaining a sense of professionalism. A large desk fills up a good portion of the room, but he did manage to get some other furniture in as well. I'm very pleased to notice there's not a hint of dark gray in sight.

Eric crosses the room in two quick steps and places me gently on a leather couch. I am sorrier than I would like to admit to leave the warmth of his embrace but don't waste any time in propping my sore ankle on the arm rest.

"Stay," he orders abruptly, darting out of the room before I can open my mouth to ask where he is going or why he's giving me dog commands. He's back in less than a minute with a small pouch of ice. With more touching than strictly necessary, he arranges the ice pack on my ankle so it covers the sorest part and lets his hand linger over it to make sure it stays in place. The sting of the ice on my skin isn't wholly unpleasant, and I feel myself relaxing into the leather.

"Okay?" he asks, lowering himself to sit on the floor near me, one long leg out in front of him and the other bent at the knee. I smile and nod my affirmation. "Good, now tell me what happened out there tonight. Who was that guy?" I can feel the smile drop from my face at the thought of Bill.

"That would be my ex-boyfriend. Bill Compton."

"Ex-boyfriend?" he asks, raising his eyebrows with the question. "Since just now or did you just happen to run into him here?"

"Neither," I say on a sigh. "Remember me telling you that Gran left me her house when she passed away? Well someone broke into Gran's sometime in the past week and really tore up the place. Bill was able to call in a favor or two and get it fixed for me for free. Coming out with him tonight was repayment for that favor." My eyes drift to my ankle. Guess the repairs didn't end up being free after all. I flex and point my foot gingerly under the ice and am relieved to find some of the soreness and stiffness receding. I don't know what I would have done with work coming up in the next few days if I hadn't been able to walk on it. I lift my eyes to Eric's and am surprised to see him staring at me intently.

"What do you mean someone tore up your gran's house?" he asks in a voice that's almost forced. I look at him blankly, trying to backtrack through the conversation. I feel like my mind is wandering in a million different directions and I can't manage to put anything together.

"Just what I said, they tore it up. There was damage to the windows and some of the drywall. The jerks even pulled up floor boards in some places." I shift uncomfortably under his gaze and notice that this posture is no longer relaxed. I clear my throat nervously. "Look, Eric, I think I had better get going. It's been a long night tonight, I can barely think straight, and I need to get home and tend to my ankle." I shift forward on the couch, kicking the ice off my ankle as I stand. It definitely still hurts, but it's not as bad as earlier and I'm starting to truly believe it will be okay.

"Wait," Eric says, rising from his place on the floor gracefully and claiming my hand in his. "Let me drive you home. It's not like you live far." He gives me a grin that makes my breath stick in my throat and I command my lungs to breathe in. I know I should turn him down. I really don't live that far away and could probably be home in less than an hour if I walk, sore ankle and all. But what was the point? He could get me there in just minutes.

"Sure," I say finally. "That would be nice." Eric's smile fills the room and I can't help but smile back.

Without warning, the door to his office flies open. The blonde woman called Pam steps into the room and the smiles melt off both of our faces.

Right. He has a girlfriend. How could I have forgotten, even for a moment? I pull my hand from his.

I watch as Pam crosses the room to Eric. She moves very gracefully for someone so young. As she speaks to him quietly, he lowers his head to hers to catch the soft words. His ear is mere inches from lips and I can't help but feel like an intruder to such an intimate moment. Maybe I should just walk home? I take a tentative step toward the door and shoot down the idea immediately. I don't think anything's broken, but I can almost guarantee I won't be able to wait tables this weekend if I walk home tonight. Maybe I should call a cab? I can barely tolerate the cost, but it's probably my best option. With one last quick look at the couple, I slide toward the door quietly. Eric's eyes cut to me just as I'm reaching for the door knob.

"Sookie," he says, eyes flashing with some emotion I can't pick out from across the room. His face remains blank.

"I can't see you guys are busy and don't want to intrude on anything so I'm just going to go," I say, gesturing weakly to the door before opening it. "You have a lot of work here and I can get myself home."

"Don't be ridiculous. Let me finish speaking with Pam and I will drive you."

"No really," I say, stepping through the doorway. "I've been enough trouble tonight and should definitely get going. Thanks for your help, though." With a quick smile I close the door behind me and hobble down the hall toward the main part of the club, trying to ignore the regret at leaving Eric behind in his office. Pushing the feeling to the back of my mind, I force myself to exert some effort to focus my thoughts. All I have to do is track down my phone and make a phone call, then I'll be able to put this whole night behind me. Now where did I leave my purse?

I push open the door to the main part of the club and find myself face to face with Quinn. My eyes widen in horror as I take in the quickly darkening bruise across Quinn's jaw courtesy of Bill. I can feel my cheeks reddening and lower my head hide my face. I'm more than a little ashamed of my performance earlier. Quinn is my professor and a man I have no interest in whatsoever. I should have never used him just to spite Bill. Of course, there was no way I could have predicted how Bill was going to react. But still. If it hadn't been for me, Quinn wouldn't have a sore jaw or a large bruise. If I were him, I would never want to see me again.

"Here's your purse," Quinn says, staring into me with those peculiar eyes and offering my bag. I guess he doesn't feel the same way I would. I scrape up enough energy to give him a smile.

"Thanks, I was just looking for that," I say, grabbing it from his hand. I open the zipper and dig around in the pouch until I locate my cell phone. I pull it out feeling relieved to have it. I call up my contact list before remembering that I need a cab. I definitely don't have Shreveport taxi services programmed in my phone. Glancing around, I'm somewhat surprised to see Quinn still standing next to me.

"You don't happen to have a phone book, do you?" I ask without thinking, only realizing a moment too late it was a stupid question. Why in the world would he be carrying a phone book? Obviously I need to get out of here.

"Sorry babe, fresh out," he says with a laugh, patting his pockets for effect. The reasons I don't care much for Quinn come flooding into my mind and a sharp retort springs to my lips. With more restraint that I thought I had left tonight, I manage to hold it back, choosing instead to turn and walk toward the bar.

"Wait," he says, grabbing my shoulder to stop me. I cringe under his touch but turn to face him. "I'm sorry, that was rude. Who were you trying to call?"

"A taxi service, I guess. Bill and I came here in his car." The corners of his mouth go down at the mention of Bill. I know the feeling.

"Why don't you let me drive you home? It's been a rough night for both of us and I'm sure cheaper than a taxi. I was heading out anyway."

My brain feels like it's short circuiting and I don't to stop to think it through. "Okay," I hear myself say before I consider it.

"Great," Quinn says, stepping to the side and gesturing grandly toward the door. "After you then."

Keeping my thoughts firmly on home and off the impending car ride, I make myself put one foot in front of the other right out the door.

xxx

Eric's POV

My eyes follow her progress as she leaves the building with that goon. Fuck. I can't believe she was going to come home with me and Pam burst in to ruin it all. I am going to have to have a talk with her about closed door etiquette.

The car ride would have given me plenty of time to talk with Sookie about Sophie-Anne. Despite my attempts, I haven't been able to pin Sookie down long enough to explain what she heard on that phone call or why she might need to be cautious. She always just walks away from me. Or orders me from her apartment. The car ride would have been perfect. She can't walk away when we are in a moving vehicle.

My mind shifts to the damage at Sookie's gran's house. Could that have been Sophie-Anne? She is definitely crazy and I wouldn't put something like that past her. It's not really her MO to damage homes rather than people, but she may not have been successful in locating Sookie in Shreveport. Had she even had time to find her in Bon Temps? My hands clench at my side almost painfully. I am going to speak with her about this tomorrow no matter what. I will not let Sookie be harmed by this.

I stride back to my office and close the door behind me.

And then there's all this business about this ex-boyfriend of Sookie's, this Bill Compton. He definitely made an ass of himself tonight, and managed to damage Sookie in his ardor. I wonder if he really cares about her. He didn't seem to when he was trying to drag her out the door. If he doesn't care for her, what could it be that he's after?

Making a quick decision, flip open my laptop.

I am going to find out as much as I can about Bill Compton.