Chapter Four: Safe in His Arms
Luka pushed the door open and shouldered his way past a group of departing patrons. He ignored their protests, charging forward, then dropping to his knees in front of her. Her eyes were closed, her head tipped back against the wall. He took her hand and held it between his own. "Abby?" he murmured.
Abby blinked rapidly, then lifted her head. Her eyes connected with Luka's, and she felt a surge of relief so great it stole her breath. "Luka," she whispered.
He reached out, briskly rubbing her arms up and down, hoping to infuse a little warmth. She looked chilled to the bone.
"You got my message," she said.
"What message?" he asked with a slight frown.
"On your answering machine. I...asked if you could come here and pick me up when you got home."
Luka groaned inwardly. He'd been so distracted when he'd stopped by his apartment that he hadn't even thought to check his messages. He could have found her sooner. He could have gotten her out of here sooner.
But at least he was here now. He could take care of her now. "Come with me," he said, gently placing his arm around her shoulders. "I'll take you home now."
She stood up when he urged her to but said, "I don't want to go home. I...can't go there now. Not when I don't know where Brian is."
"He's never going to hurt you again," Luka said urgently, his intense gaze meeting hers. "I promise you that." Keeping his arm around her, he walked her out of the bar and toward his car.
Abby hugged her arms close to her body, glancing around nervously as they walked down the sidewalk. She couldn't help but wonder if Brian was lurking in a dark corner, waiting for a second chance with her. She closed her eyes, and again she saw the fist coming at her. It had all happened so fast, but she remembered the sharp burst of pain as his knuckles crashed into her face. Now, hours later, her eye still throbbed every time she thought about it. She could still feel the sharp jolt of pain as she connected with the floor, and she could still see the blackness enveloping her vision.
She burrowed down into the seat and closed her eyes. She didn't pay any attention to where Luka was taking her. She didn't really care, as long as it was away from Brian. Because she felt safe with Luka. Maybe, she thought dimly, Luka was the only one she'd ever felt safe with.
"Abby?"
She opened her eyes some time later and realized they'd stopped. "Your apartment," she murmured with a glance out her window.
"You'll be safe here," Luka told her. "You can get some rest, and you won't have to worry about anything else."
In a daze, she let Luka help her from the car and up the stairs to his apartment. She stood quietly as he unlocked the door and held it open for her, but when she walked across his threshold she sucked in a quiet breath. In the bar, and on the drive over here, she'd been able to drift. The future, their destination had been a hazy thing in her mind, not something she had to deal with immediately. But now that she was here in Luka's living room, the whole situation was suddenly very real. She hadn't been in his apartment in months. Not since the week after their ugly, nightmarish breakup. But now here she was, alone with him, hurt, vulnerable.
She was a little afraid that if she stayed here long enough, she would end up saying things to him that she would regret later. Things like 'It was all my fault' or 'Please take me back.' Those things and more flitted through her mind as she snuck a covert glance at him through the eye that wasn't swollen almost shut. He slipped his coat off his shoulders, and she realized again just how big he was. She'd always felt so good wrapped up in his arms, tucked against his heart. She'd felt happy there, she just hadn't been able to say that to him.
She took off her own coat and sat on the couch. She clapped her hands together and blew out a breath. Now that she was here, now that she was safe, she didn't know what to do. She wished she could just go to sleep, but she knew that with sleep would come nightmares, and she didn't want that. Not here, not in front of Luka. She didn't want him to see her vulnerable that way. Alone, frightened and disoriented—that was something she could do without.
"I'll make you some coffee," Luka said.
She nodded, though she had no desire for coffee. She watched him walk over to the counter, then closed her eyes and curled into the end of the couch. She hugged her sides and leaned her head back. She wanted to forget. She wanted to pretend none of it had happened. That she'd never met Brian and Joyce. She'd never intervened. Brian hadn't come after her. Her colleagues—and especially Luka—hadn't seen her bloodied and bruised.
She remembered all the nights she'd been woken up by her neighbors' screaming fights. She remembered the way her walls had shook as something was thrown at them from the other side. One time, a picture had almost been knocked off her wall by the force of the blow.
But despite it all, despite her lingering doubts and fears, she couldn't regret helping Joyce once she'd seen the results of Brian's rages. The woman had been too frightened, too stubbornly determined to hang on to get help. She hadn't been ready, or willing, to see the truth for herself.
Abby hoped that Joyce would stay in the shelter. She hoped the woman wouldn't give into her doubts and contact Brian. Abby had no doubt he would make Joyce pay for everything that had happened.
She opened her eyes and saw Luka standing in front of her, holding out a steaming mug. "I'm not thirsty," she said quietly.
"Take it anyway," he insisted. "You need something to warm you up. You're shivering."
"I'm fine," she lied.
He pressed the mug into her hands. "You're not fine, Abby. You're freezing, and you're hurt. Let me help you."
"I'm not helpless," she said fiercely, taking a sip of the strong brew. She didn't want to admit how good the warmth felt. "No matter what my face looks like right now, I'm not helpless."
For a moment she wondered if he was going to answer her. She felt his eyes on her, then looked up as he dipped his head and looked at his hands. Finally he sighed and said, "I think asking for help when you need it makes you strong, not weak."
She took another sip. Normally Luka's coffee was far too strong for her taste, but she admitted now it was just what she needed. The warmth infused her, and the caffeine jolted life into her weary body. "I'm not saying I don't appreciate your help," she said. "I just don't want you to think this means I don't know how to take care of myself."
"I know you can take care of yourself, Abby," Luka said quietly as he sat down beside her.
But she wasn't finished. "And I don't want to hear about how I should have minded my own business, or how I shouldn't have gotten in the middle of things. All I was trying to do was help Joyce. Nobody else was doing anything."
Luka sat next to her, his arm brushing hers. He saw the bruises on her face, and he remembered Joyce's battered face from earlier that day. No woman deserved that. "I think you did good for her," he said. "You got help for her when she needed it." He paused, taking a deep breath. Then his arm slid slowly around her shoulder. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, but she could feel his fingers flexing, wanting to grip her and pull her close. "I just hate seeing you like this."
"I don't want pity," she said, ashamed her voice was starting to crack. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she was terrified she was going to lose it. She wanted, needed to stay strong.
Luka leaned his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I don't pity you," he whispered, closing his eyes and breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo. "You're the strongest person I know."
A shudder ran through Abby's body. She took another sip of coffee, then set the mug on the table at the end of the couch. "I'm sorry," she whispered after several moments.
"Abby, you have nothing to be sorry for."
"You've gone out of your way to help me, and I'm acting like a bitch."
"It's all right," he said. "I don't blame you."
"Thank you for helping me," she said, so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
They sat quietly for several minutes. Luka looked down to see her head resting against his shoulder, her eyes closed in sleep. Moving carefully so he didn't wake her, he slid his arm from around her and eased her down on the couch. He grabbed a blanket from his bedroom and draped it over her. He stood over the couch for several moments, watching her sleep. This was just the latest chapter in their tangled history together, but he wasn't going to screw things up this time. He would give her the space she needed to recover, but he wasn't going to leave her. He would keep at her until she was ready to talk to him, until she was ready to open up and let him back into her life.
He would wait as long as it took, because she was worth it.
Luka pushed the door open and shouldered his way past a group of departing patrons. He ignored their protests, charging forward, then dropping to his knees in front of her. Her eyes were closed, her head tipped back against the wall. He took her hand and held it between his own. "Abby?" he murmured.
Abby blinked rapidly, then lifted her head. Her eyes connected with Luka's, and she felt a surge of relief so great it stole her breath. "Luka," she whispered.
He reached out, briskly rubbing her arms up and down, hoping to infuse a little warmth. She looked chilled to the bone.
"You got my message," she said.
"What message?" he asked with a slight frown.
"On your answering machine. I...asked if you could come here and pick me up when you got home."
Luka groaned inwardly. He'd been so distracted when he'd stopped by his apartment that he hadn't even thought to check his messages. He could have found her sooner. He could have gotten her out of here sooner.
But at least he was here now. He could take care of her now. "Come with me," he said, gently placing his arm around her shoulders. "I'll take you home now."
She stood up when he urged her to but said, "I don't want to go home. I...can't go there now. Not when I don't know where Brian is."
"He's never going to hurt you again," Luka said urgently, his intense gaze meeting hers. "I promise you that." Keeping his arm around her, he walked her out of the bar and toward his car.
Abby hugged her arms close to her body, glancing around nervously as they walked down the sidewalk. She couldn't help but wonder if Brian was lurking in a dark corner, waiting for a second chance with her. She closed her eyes, and again she saw the fist coming at her. It had all happened so fast, but she remembered the sharp burst of pain as his knuckles crashed into her face. Now, hours later, her eye still throbbed every time she thought about it. She could still feel the sharp jolt of pain as she connected with the floor, and she could still see the blackness enveloping her vision.
She burrowed down into the seat and closed her eyes. She didn't pay any attention to where Luka was taking her. She didn't really care, as long as it was away from Brian. Because she felt safe with Luka. Maybe, she thought dimly, Luka was the only one she'd ever felt safe with.
"Abby?"
She opened her eyes some time later and realized they'd stopped. "Your apartment," she murmured with a glance out her window.
"You'll be safe here," Luka told her. "You can get some rest, and you won't have to worry about anything else."
In a daze, she let Luka help her from the car and up the stairs to his apartment. She stood quietly as he unlocked the door and held it open for her, but when she walked across his threshold she sucked in a quiet breath. In the bar, and on the drive over here, she'd been able to drift. The future, their destination had been a hazy thing in her mind, not something she had to deal with immediately. But now that she was here in Luka's living room, the whole situation was suddenly very real. She hadn't been in his apartment in months. Not since the week after their ugly, nightmarish breakup. But now here she was, alone with him, hurt, vulnerable.
She was a little afraid that if she stayed here long enough, she would end up saying things to him that she would regret later. Things like 'It was all my fault' or 'Please take me back.' Those things and more flitted through her mind as she snuck a covert glance at him through the eye that wasn't swollen almost shut. He slipped his coat off his shoulders, and she realized again just how big he was. She'd always felt so good wrapped up in his arms, tucked against his heart. She'd felt happy there, she just hadn't been able to say that to him.
She took off her own coat and sat on the couch. She clapped her hands together and blew out a breath. Now that she was here, now that she was safe, she didn't know what to do. She wished she could just go to sleep, but she knew that with sleep would come nightmares, and she didn't want that. Not here, not in front of Luka. She didn't want him to see her vulnerable that way. Alone, frightened and disoriented—that was something she could do without.
"I'll make you some coffee," Luka said.
She nodded, though she had no desire for coffee. She watched him walk over to the counter, then closed her eyes and curled into the end of the couch. She hugged her sides and leaned her head back. She wanted to forget. She wanted to pretend none of it had happened. That she'd never met Brian and Joyce. She'd never intervened. Brian hadn't come after her. Her colleagues—and especially Luka—hadn't seen her bloodied and bruised.
She remembered all the nights she'd been woken up by her neighbors' screaming fights. She remembered the way her walls had shook as something was thrown at them from the other side. One time, a picture had almost been knocked off her wall by the force of the blow.
But despite it all, despite her lingering doubts and fears, she couldn't regret helping Joyce once she'd seen the results of Brian's rages. The woman had been too frightened, too stubbornly determined to hang on to get help. She hadn't been ready, or willing, to see the truth for herself.
Abby hoped that Joyce would stay in the shelter. She hoped the woman wouldn't give into her doubts and contact Brian. Abby had no doubt he would make Joyce pay for everything that had happened.
She opened her eyes and saw Luka standing in front of her, holding out a steaming mug. "I'm not thirsty," she said quietly.
"Take it anyway," he insisted. "You need something to warm you up. You're shivering."
"I'm fine," she lied.
He pressed the mug into her hands. "You're not fine, Abby. You're freezing, and you're hurt. Let me help you."
"I'm not helpless," she said fiercely, taking a sip of the strong brew. She didn't want to admit how good the warmth felt. "No matter what my face looks like right now, I'm not helpless."
For a moment she wondered if he was going to answer her. She felt his eyes on her, then looked up as he dipped his head and looked at his hands. Finally he sighed and said, "I think asking for help when you need it makes you strong, not weak."
She took another sip. Normally Luka's coffee was far too strong for her taste, but she admitted now it was just what she needed. The warmth infused her, and the caffeine jolted life into her weary body. "I'm not saying I don't appreciate your help," she said. "I just don't want you to think this means I don't know how to take care of myself."
"I know you can take care of yourself, Abby," Luka said quietly as he sat down beside her.
But she wasn't finished. "And I don't want to hear about how I should have minded my own business, or how I shouldn't have gotten in the middle of things. All I was trying to do was help Joyce. Nobody else was doing anything."
Luka sat next to her, his arm brushing hers. He saw the bruises on her face, and he remembered Joyce's battered face from earlier that day. No woman deserved that. "I think you did good for her," he said. "You got help for her when she needed it." He paused, taking a deep breath. Then his arm slid slowly around her shoulder. His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, but she could feel his fingers flexing, wanting to grip her and pull her close. "I just hate seeing you like this."
"I don't want pity," she said, ashamed her voice was starting to crack. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she was terrified she was going to lose it. She wanted, needed to stay strong.
Luka leaned his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. "I don't pity you," he whispered, closing his eyes and breathing in the soft scent of her shampoo. "You're the strongest person I know."
A shudder ran through Abby's body. She took another sip of coffee, then set the mug on the table at the end of the couch. "I'm sorry," she whispered after several moments.
"Abby, you have nothing to be sorry for."
"You've gone out of your way to help me, and I'm acting like a bitch."
"It's all right," he said. "I don't blame you."
"Thank you for helping me," she said, so quietly he almost didn't hear her.
They sat quietly for several minutes. Luka looked down to see her head resting against his shoulder, her eyes closed in sleep. Moving carefully so he didn't wake her, he slid his arm from around her and eased her down on the couch. He grabbed a blanket from his bedroom and draped it over her. He stood over the couch for several moments, watching her sleep. This was just the latest chapter in their tangled history together, but he wasn't going to screw things up this time. He would give her the space she needed to recover, but he wasn't going to leave her. He would keep at her until she was ready to talk to him, until she was ready to open up and let him back into her life.
He would wait as long as it took, because she was worth it.