Emma turns to face the wall, still taking those rapid breaths. If she keeps sucking in oxygen like that, she’ll probably pass out. I approach her slowly. My last girlfriend wasn’t fond of seeing all my hardware either but she never reacted like this.

I want to hold her but I’m not sure if she would appreciate that right now. So I just lean on the wall a few feet away. “Take a deep breath. Slowly. In and out.”

She looks at me briefly. “I’m okay. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“I know. Just breathe, buttercup.”

Her breath whooshes out all at once, and then she takes a deep inhale. Her eyes stay on my face. We stand like that for a few minutes, breathing quietly. When the color comes back to her face, I move away.

“I am so sorry. I’ll move it.” I lead her to the bed and she sits, woodenly. I block her view of the nightstand with my body as I retrieve the gun. There’s a gun locker in my closet where I keep my Heckler & Koch and a few of my semi-automatic rifles. I walk into the closet and put the Glock in the case.  When I come out, I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Emma? When your parents were killed … you were there, weren’t you?”

Her fingers clench in the blanket and then her head bobs up and down. Yes.

Emotion wells inside me. She’s here, helping me, even though watching violence of any kind has to be traumatizing for her. The scene she witnessed in the alley tonight suddenly takes on new meaning. She waded into that for me.

She’s dealing with things that obviously scare the shit out of her, for me. 

“You don’t have to stay. I understand if you want to go home.” Even I’m not selfish enough to make her sleep here if she’s freaked out. Nothing is going to help me at this point but I can help her. I’ll probably be up all night anyway but she needs to sleep. And she needs to feel safe enough to do that.

She turns sad eyes to me. “I’m staying, Tank. I told you I would. I’m not going to leave you.”

I’m not touching that statement so I grab a T-shirt from my dresser and hand it to her. She pulls it over her head and then pushes her jeans down. After she folds them and puts them on the end of the bed, she pats the space next to her. “Come on. I’m tired.”

I don’t believe that I’ll actually get any sleep. When my emotions run high like this, sometimes I’m up for days on end. But the sheets are crisp and cool and Emma curls up next to me, warm and soft. Her bottom is pressed up against me and I’d have to be dead not to react to that but instead of it being purely sexual, it feels like she’s an extension of me. Like she’s supposed to be there. For the first time all day, I let out a breath and relax.

Then slip quietly into dreaming.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EMMA

This time when I roll over, I’m prepared for it. Tank is awake and watching me again.

“What is it with you watching me sleep? It’s creepy.”

He grins and pulls me closer. His morning erection pokes me in the belly. “Is that creepy, too?”

I rub up against him. “That part I don’t mind.”

He buries his face in my neck and inhales. It should be the weirdest thing in the world, curled up in bed with a man who is smelling me, but instead I feel safe. Protected.

“I’m starting to see what all the fuss is about having a girlfriend.”

“Now I know you’re making stuff up. There’s no way you’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“Well, yeah. Of course. But I went in the Army straight out of high school. Most of my relationships were casual. It’s hard to keep a girl happy if you’re never around.”

I’m fascinated by this side of him. Based on his behavior and well, just looking at him, I’d assumed he’d have had a string of girlfriends. Although I doubt he’s been alone. He may not have had a steady relationship but I seriously doubt he’s been living like a monk all this time.

“What about after you got out? You didn’t meet anyone then?”

He sits up, dragging the blankets with him. “I met someone but after only a few months, she called it off. Said I was too much to deal with. In hindsight I don’t blame her. You saw me last night. That’s a lot to deal with.”

“Do you do that a lot? Get into fights?”

He stretches his arms overhead, the muscles in his arms and back flexing. Looking at him like this, he’s just overwhelming. He’s like some kind of ancient warrior.

God, he’s magnificent.

“Come on. We need to get up. You need time to stop at home for fresh clothes otherwise you’ll be late to work.”

I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it but this is too important. I won’t let him sidetrack me. So I keep silent and wait.

He glances at me once more and then rubs a hand over his face. “When I was younger, I used to fight all the time at school. I was on the verge of being expelled when my mom got cancer the first time.”

“I didn’t realize she’d had it before. You were so young. That must have been really hard.”

“It was harder for her. That was the wakeup call I needed because I got my shit together and stopped making her life so miserable. She’s been in remission until last month. That’s when I started fighting again.”

“You’ve done that before?”

He shrugs but when he looks over his shoulder, I can see the toll the admission takes on him. “I can’t help her but I can help someone else. I can make something right in this world. I can do something that matters.”