Page 19 of The Saint

I recognized the slick of water on her face for what it was. I also knew better than to point it out.

“Can you walk?”

Her head shook, a tiny movement that was barely there. I slid my arm around her back, and hers followed suit, gripping me tight as I helped her over to one of the benches lining the space. But when another flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed by a crash of thunder over our heads a split second later, her grip tightened to the point of pain.

It was pure muscle memory that had me sweeping her legs out from under her and holding her against my chest. “I’ve got you,” I whispered against her head. “It’s okay.”

Jael stiffened in my arms, and I remembered all the pain she’d caused. But the storm around us wouldn’t let me let her go.

Shifting my grip, I reached for my phone.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get a car to take you home.”

Jael shook her head, but she didn’t look up. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I’m not letting you sit here in the rain, David.”

She shook her head again, releasing her grip on me enough to point a shaky hand in the direction of the high-end apartment building down the street. “I live over there.”

Of course, she did.

When Zio Paulo brought people up in his syndicate, he went all out.

Jael’s favorite thing to do when we were young was exploring the woods surrounding Zio’s estate. We’d spent hours every day we were there climbing through the trees and over the hills, being in and enjoying the outdoors. In a city like New York, Central Park was the perfect place for a girl like her.

Adjusting my grip once more, I tightened my hold and started off in the direction she’d pointed. Jael’s head whipped up, her eyes wide.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t walk,” I told her, my eyes on my destination and away from the jade green gaze that had always been my favorite color.

She struggled against me, hissing, “You can’t carry me!” as she pushed at my chest.

I let her legs swing down, holding her so her feet were still inches from the ground. With one eyebrow raised, I asked, “You going to walk on that ankle?”

Her lips flattened into a thin line. I lowered her slowly, letting her weight shift until the corners of her eyes twitched at the pain. Then I swept her legs back into my arms.

“Now tell me where you live.”

She pointed the way with the most minimal of words, her stiff body only yielding when the thunder rolled overhead. Once inside her lush apartment, I kicked the door shut and started toward the back rooms.

“You can put me down now,” Jael said, her voice hard now that we were out of the rain. But she was soaked. She couldn’t put weight on her foot.

I wasn’t about to let her go.

“Rolly,” she pushed, hands against my chest, but I ignored her and turned into a room on the right.

It was full of collapsed boxes stacked against the wall and nothing more. I backed out and moved on to the next as Jael’s pushing became a pounding at my chest.

“Let me down!”

But I didn’t. Not until I’d walked through her bedroom and into the attached bath.

“What are you doing?” she damn near yelled as I set her down on the counter near the sink.

Stepping back, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Saving your furniture from getting soaked.”