THE ACT OF LOVING YOU

There was no way he was sending her back inside that house just yet.

Over steaming mugs of coffee at a nearby café, Cullen attempted small talk, but mostly they sat in comfortable silence. Savannah seemed distracted and somber. He wondered if she was counting down the minutes until she had to go back to that house and dreading it just as much as he was.

"Do you have any family you can stay with?" he asked finally.

A deep searing gaze communicated her need. Cullen's worst assumptions were proven correct — she was all alone. She swallowed and shook her head. "My mom passed away when I was fifteen, and I never met my father. I suppose I could find one of the women from Jacob's group, but I don't know…"

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten? We could get you something." Cullen couldn't stop himself from peppering her with questions.

She kept her gaze cast down and shook her head. "I'm fine." Savannah sat quietly in her seat; her thin fingers wound tightly around the coffee mug.

Cullen wished there was something more he could do for her. He wasn't sure what to say, how to help, so he sat silently across from her sipping his coffee.

By the time they reached the house again, darkness had blanketed the sky. Cullen shifted into park, turning off the engine. "I'll walk you inside."

The house itself was large, but poorly maintained. The furniture was old and unmatched, the beige carpet stained and threadbare. Cullen didn't see much of the first floor, beyond a dingy living room, before she led him upstairs. There were several closed doors along the long hallway. Savannah stopped at the second door on the right. The key fumbled between her fingers, clanking against the wooden door. After three failed attempts to unlock it, Cullen removed it from her trembling hand and deftly opened the door.

The first thing he noticed was the Odor—the room smelled like wet gym socks. Savannah flipped on the light and took several steps into the room. A single narrow cot on the floor and a chair in the corner containing stray articles of clothing were the only furnishings.

Fuck. He couldn't just leave her here, could he?

Savannah stepped in closer, wrapping her arms around his waist and tucking her head under his chin. "Thank you," she whispered.

Her eagerness at physical contact surprised him, but he only hesitated a moment before wrapping his arms around her. Cullen patted her back, hating that his attempts at soothing her were clumsy and awkward. He'd never been good at this kind of thing: emotions, touchy-feely crap. Maybe his presence would be enough to calm her. And although he didn't know how to show it, he felt protective. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her. If anyone so much as looked at her the wrong way, Cullen would knock them on their ass. He held her for several long minutes until the beating of her heart slowed to normal, and she backed out of his arms.

Their eyes flashed to one another at the sounds of an argument going on in the next room. Angry voices carried through the thin walls. Another argument. Cullen and Savannah exchanged glances.

"Are you sure you'll be, okay?"

She nodded, looking solemn.

"Here's my card." He fished the card from his wallet and placed it in her trembling hand. "Call me if you need anything."

Savannah remained silent, glancing at the card, running her thumb along the raised lettering.

"Lock your door when I leave, okay?"

She nodded tightly, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth, as if there was something more she wanted to say, but stopped herself.

Cullen left reluctantly He knew it was getting late, and as much as it pained him to leave her, he couldn't put it off any longer. He was sure he was crossing some sort of professional line even being here. He waited outside the door until he heard the lock slide into place, the sound not nearly as reassuring as he would have hoped.

Once he was outside, Cullen took a deep breath and scrubbed his hands across his face. The cooling blast of autumn air filled his lungs, but did nothing to return him to his senses. He climbed inside his truck and gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white, trying to will himself to start the engine and drive away from her.

***

The lock on her door did little to calm her nerves. The deep, raspy voices of her male neighbours sent shivers down her spine. She huddled in closer to the thin, scratchy blanket.

The unfamiliar sounds and smells of the house left her on edge and shaking. The brief interlude with Cullen had helped, but now that she was back in the bleak reality of the tiny room again, an impending panic attack throbbed in her chest.

Growing up the way she had, listening to Jacob's crazy rants about sex being dirty and diseased, and men of the world being fuelled by only their lust, made her hyper-aware of the sounds in the rooms next to her. Their loud voices, crude glances, and grubby hands. Jacob constantly drilled into her that men would only want her for one thing.

Realization struck. She was alone. Totally and completely alone. Panic crept in to the edges of her brain, but she fought it, holding the darkness at bay. Just barely. Think Savannah. If she could go on after losing her mom, she could survive this, too. Didn't have much choice.

Her muscles trembled with the effort of lying still against the hard cot. She curled into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest, hoping it would sooth her. A loud whack against the wall made her jump. Savannah sat up in bed as the pain in her chest built. She drew a slow shaky breath and said a silent prayer. She tried not to break down again, but before she knew it, hot tears were freely streaming down her cheeks and she was wishing that Cullen hadn't left. The only times she'd felt safe during the past week of this ordeal was when he was near.

She grabbed his card from the windowsill and clutched it, crushing it to her heart. She wished she was stronger, that she didn't break down so easily. But after another loud thump against the wall, she let out a whimper and clamoured under the blankets. She glanced at the doorknob, the deadbolt still vertical, needing reassurance that the door was still locked.

She didn't want to leave the safety of her bedroom—and wouldn't have—had it not been for her insistent bladder urging her on. There were two bathrooms on the second floor; one was for women, the other for men. She'd come to learn over the past few days, tenants used whichever was closest, and since she had the bad fortune of being surrounded on both sides by male tenants, she knew the so-called lady's room was filthy and reeked of urine. The other bathroom was probably no better.

Still clutching Cullen's card, Savannah cracked opens the door and peeked both ways before tiptoeing towards the bathroom.

She made sure the toilet seat was clean before she relieved herself. As she stood washing her hands in the sink, she startled at the pale haunted-looking girl watching her from the mirror before realizing it was her own reflection.

The bulb above her flickered then died. Darkness made her head swim. She sucked in a deep breath and held it as her hands fumbled blindly in front of her, searching out the door. She'd hated the dark. Always had. Her hands still flailing in front of her, she begged herself not to panic.

Savannah swayed on her feet, blinking wildly against the darkness. Before she knew what was happening, she crashed against the wall, and felt a sharp blow ache through the back of her skull as she collapsed to the ground.