AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The main thing was he and Sage were safe, alive. The crisis averted because of their teamwork.
He stared at his exquisite woman. “Turn around.”
She did as he asked.
Alexander retrieved the handcuff key from Mallory’s pants pocket and undid Sage’s shackles, the metal clanging onto the concrete. She brought her hands in front of her and rubbed her red-raw wrists. He took over, trying to soothe her, trying to abolish any memories, any remnants from the past few traumatic hours, days, weeks.
Sirens sounded in the distance, the wailing growing louder as the cops, and possibly ambulance, approached. Elated didn’t even come close to portraying how he felt, more like lucky, grateful, optimistic. Although the circumstances were extreme, stressful, life-threatening—the absolute opposite of romantic—he’d never believed more in the possibility of a happily-ever-after.
The rest of the night happened in a clichéd blur. The police arrived, bombarded them with questions and hauled Mallory off. He’d hardly had a chance to speak to Sage, check in with how she’d been coping.
Relief quickly turned to ‘what ifs’ that could drive a person crazy. He’d been there, more than done that. And he’d do everything he could to talk Sage through it and prevent her descending down that unhelpful rabbit-hole of emotional negativity.
Thankfully, she had regular psychologist supervision, someone professional to speak to, someone external to what had happened to problem solve through it, put the whole thing in some sort of meaningful, palatable perspective.
Alexander negotiated to take her home now, promising they’d return to the police station in the morning to answer any more questions and give a formal statement.
Sage sat silent for the whole drive, and he respected that. He knew all about the importance of having time to process outcomes. He’d give her all the space she needed…within reason, because avoiding wouldn’t help address any lingering issues either. It came down to balance.
Before he’d clicked her seatbelt into place and they’d left, Sage agreed to collect her car the next day. Neither of them had the energy nor motivation to do it tonight. The fight-and-flight chemicals had worn off, leaving them both thoroughly fatigued.
Shattered.
They needed to get home and rest, twined together in bed. They needed some chill time to relax and rejuvenate.
Refresh. Recuperate.
Home. No longer purely a place to reside. Wherever Sage was had become his new definition. Being with her reinforced that home was a feeling, a safe haven, a sense of peace that a physical structure alone couldn’t provide.
He parked in her garage and turned to her. She stared out of her window as though focused inwardly, unaware of her surroundings, probably replaying everything in her mind, which could fuck with a person, make them fixate on something out of their control.
Alexander ran his palm gently over her closest arm, and she twisted to face him. He could practically see her pulse thumping in her neck like she’d been jolted awake from a deep sleep. “Let’s go inside.”
She frowned and nodded, like she’d just realized where they were. He sprang out of the car and hurried to the passenger side, ready to assist if she’d zoned out. Chances were her body would be weak, unsteady, in shock. He needed to get her showered, clean off all the grime of the day and into bed…with him.
He’d emphasize he’d protect her, keep her safe and secure, help her heal—shower her with his undying, irrefutable love.
She took his hand, and, the second they stepped into the front foyer, he whisked her into his arms. He expected a protest, but she clutched onto him like a koala gripping tight to a windblown eucalyptus tree.
He climbed the stairs and set her down in her en suite, holding her in a loose embrace. She needed to know he’d always be available when she required him.
Sage’s glorious golden eyes met his. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me. You’re mine, understand that? I’m never letting you go.” Emotionally, metaphorically, they’d remain tethered. He’d make sure of it.
She hugged him with an unyielding ferocity, their bodies flush, no space between them.
Physically, he couldn’t always keep her close, even if he wanted to. It wasn’t feasible. But, thank fuck, he’d have her soft, sweet, sexy body to look forward to every day, every night.
Now he had to focus on pragmatic considerations. Get Sage nice and clean, for her to then get down and dirty with him in the best possible way, whenever she felt ready.
Sex helped some people escape, cope temporarily, but it lacked the robust guts of intimacy. Others seemed to retreat into themselves, needing time to think and process at their own pace. Responses, reactions were so individual, as unique as each person on the planet.
Learnings over a lifetime, plus nature and nurture concocted the exclusive mix. He got that, and he imagined she did, too, given her history as a psychologist specializing in trauma. Or she would, once she’d transitioned out of shock.
They stood cradling each other, their chemistry, their energy, potent as all fuck. Undeniable.
He broke away enough to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “Let’s wash off the grubbiness of the day and go to bed.”
