The Guarded Widow (13 page)

With revulsion threatening to gag her, Olivia bit down as hard as she could on the sweatshirt material covering the imprisoning forearm.

The painful sting of her bite partially loosened his grip, enabling her to elbow him, hard, in the stomach.

Then she ran.

She’d only made it to the hall landing before he recovered enough to follow her. Adrenaline pumping, she barely felt his hand grip her left shoulder or his nails tear into her bare skin. Desperate, she dropped to her bottom and slid all the way down the staircase. As soon as she hit the first floor, she scrambled onto her feet and ran into the kitchen. She grabbed a butcher knife out of the wooden knife block with one hand and swiped up the phone she’d left
on the counter with the other.
Even as she dialed 911, Olivia heard his final threat as he flung open her front door.

I’m going to kill you when I return,” he furiously roared before fleeing her property.

Officer Ron Barton had just returned to the precinct after resolving another domestic dispute on
Maple Lane
when dispatch diverted him to Olivia Jones’s address. After the dispatcher relayed the nature of Olivia’s frantic call, Ron paused only long enough to contact Gavin, and then sprinted back out to his cruiser. He sped down familiar back roads, covering the short distance in record time. As Ron raced toward the narrow entrance to Olivia’s driveway, he cursed a blue streak, slamming on his brakes in order to prevent a near collision with Gavin’s cruiser.

Gavin never slowed down and just continued fish tailing around the corner into the driveway, arriving at Olivia’s house first. After skidding to a stop, he cut the motor and raced up the steps, two at a time.

The front door was wide open as Ron paused, weapon drawn, and called into the house.

“Olivia, it’s Officer Barton!”

Disregarding all protocol, his fool friend had already barreled through the open door.

“Olivia, where are you?” Gavin was shouting as he frantically swept down the hallway, scouting out each room as he went.

Not finding her, Gavin exploded as Ron crossed the threshold. “Where the hell is she?”

Just as he and Ron burst into the kitchen, a slight almost imperceptible movement caught Gavin’s attention. Spinning around, he spied Olivia huddled by the back door. Shaking uncontrollably, she was wearing only a bra and scrub bottoms while desperately clenching a butcher knife.

Obviously in shock, she hadn’t even looked up when the two men had stormed into the kitchen.

“Oh Livvie!” Ron gasped, hurrying toward her.

Gavin stopped him.

“Get out of here, Barton,” he growled, launching his partner halfway across the room with a violent shove to the chest. Then he rushed over and crouched down beside her, whispering her name.

Groggy, Olivia lifted her eyes to focus on Gavin’s familiar face and immediately recognized a hard look of fury. Harnessing his rage, knowing Olivia didn’t need his anger, he gently ran his fingertips over her swollen right eye and noted the bloody gashes on her bare shoulder.

“I think I’m okay,” she whispered, offering him a weak attempt at a smile.

“The hell you are,” he growled then leaned forward and carefully lifted her into his arms. Long, angry strides carried her out of the kitchen and half way down the hall before Ron stopped Gavin with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“She just seems really shook up. She’s gonna be alright. We need to …”

“Get the hell out of my way, Ron,” Gavin ordered his tone lethal.

He started stomping up the staircase, careful not to cause Olivia anymore undue discomfort than necessary. Safe within his arms, she rested her bruised face against the solid strength of his hard chest.

I’m going to kill whoever did this to her, he silently vowed as he glanced down at the woman in his arms. Appalled to see the numerous bruises and bleeding claw marks on her skin, he instinctively held her closer.

Cautiously, Olivia lifted her eyes to meet his and shuddered. The unmistakable look of murder was raging furiously within those cold, blue eyes.

“What are you doing?” Ron called out after him, incredulously.

“I’m taking her with me,” Gavin ground out. “You can talk to her later. Call Maddy,” were the last words out of his mouth.

As he reached the top step, he looked down at her again and breathed out, “Dear God, Olivia.”

“I am able to walk,” she murmured.

“Not right now you won’t,” he said, turning in the direction of her bedroom.

He felt her body flinch within his arms.

“Not my room. I’m not ready to go back into my room yet,” she whispered and then gestured across the hall. “Please, take me over there, to the guest room.”

Gavin strode through the guest room doorway and gingerly placed her down upon the bed. A quick hard tug on the dark blue comforter enabled him to swiftly draw it up, covering her naked shoulders.

He paused then and studied her for a long, silent moment. Ever so carefully, Olivia swept her own fingers up to lightly examine the tender swollen bruise around her eye. Sheesh, the way he’s staring, I must look absolutely terrible.

Self conscious, she dropped her hands and her gaze.

“It’s hurting you”.

It wasn’t a question, just a statement of fact.

He then stalked over to the window and stared out at the haphazardly parked police cars. Recognizing the uncontrollable fury threatening to erupt, Gavin knew he desperately needed to remain in control of his temper, for Olivia’s sake.

He needed a few minutes to pull himself together.

“I’m going down to the kitchen to get some ice for your face. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Within the blink of an eye, he was gone.

She stared after him, for just a few seconds, before staggering over to collapse into the black Windsor chair nestled between the guestroom windows.

Then she took stock of her injuries, feeling thankful to have only ended up with a few scratches and bruises, especially considering her intruder’s prurient intentions.

When Gavin reappeared, gripping an ice pack wrapped inside a dish towel, he glanced at the bed and frowned. Olivia was no longer on the bed where he’d left her which meant she’d got up and moved, by herself.

Still frowning, he handed the ice pack.

“Put this on your face.”

She placed the cold fabric against her throbbing eye and sat back to watch him as he paced the guest room floor. His face was furious, the muscles in his jaw flexing angrily. As she watched him move about the room, he reminded her of an enraged, wild animal.

But when he walked back over and kneeled down in front of her, his conflicted eyes softened as they scanned her face, assessing the injuries.

He gathered her small hands into his own, larger protective ones. His voice was quiet but firm. “I need to know exactly what happened to you. Tell me, Olivia.”

With a heavy sigh, she lifted her arms to reach up and tuck her hair back behind her ears. As she did so, the blanket slipped off her shoulders, revealing deep purple bruises and angry bleeding claw marks, both were a glaring contrast upon her pale skin.

Gavin flinched at the sight of them. His narrowed gaze swept down over Olivia’s partially clad body when ample curves of smooth satin stretched taut against bare flesh seized his attention.

“He touched you?” Gavin ground out. Gently catching her chin within his hand, he forced her to look directly in his eyes.

Olivia interrupted his next obvious question.

“No, I wasn’t raped,” she said murmured quietly and began visibly shaking again. “I don’t want to relive this experience multiple times by having to repeat what happened to several different people.”

Not wanting to cause her anymore distress, he quickly replied, “That’s understandable; I can wait until Ron takes your statement.”

Wishing to soothe her, Gavin began lightly running his hands over her back and neck, massaging her until she gradually relaxed against the chair and began drifting off into sleep.

Without warning, Olivia sat bolt upright.

With fear clouding her eyes, she reached for Gavin.

“He told me, he’s going to kill me when he comes back,” she gasped, terrified.

“The hell he will,” he growled as he completely gathered her up into his arms.

Needing to keep her close, he sat down on the chair and began rocking her as though she was a child. Finally, after numerous fitful episodes of waking and clutching his shirt in fear, Olivia succumbed to fatigue.

Gavin studied her battered face so completely relaxed with deep sleep, and decided whoever this man is; he will never get the opportunity to touch her again.

He nearly imploded as he tamped down against the raging intense desire to commit murder coursing through his veins.

As he rose from the chair and gently placed her down on the bed, Gavin turned to look out the window. Maddy had just arrived. She rushed out of her car to meet Officer Barton in the front yard. Gavin watched Maddy as she covered her face with her hands and dropped down onto the front porch steps.

“I will not allow her to be left alone in this house, to fend for herself again,” he vowed as he sat down in a chair to watch over Olivia as she slept.

That was how Maddy found them. The setting winter sun cast shadows over the guest bedroom, safely enveloping Olivia within their midst as she slept peacefully on the bed. Looking uncomfortable with his large frame overflowing the Windsor chair tucked between the two windows, Gavin sat in vigilant silence, brooding as he watched over her.

At that moment, as Maddy watched him through the partially open door, she realized Gavin Rafferty was in love with her sister.

He may not even know it yet, she mused before clearing her throat to gain his attention.

Gavin’s head snapped around sharply as Maddy glided into the room.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. Ron sent me up to speak with you. I’m going to take the boys to The Pizza Parlor for dinner. Olivia needs time to talk with you and Ron before she sees the kids.”

He directed a cold glare at Maddy.

“Now Gavin, Ron understands you don’t want to upset her any more than necessary, but he at least needs a description of her attacker.”

“You can tell Ron…”

Rousing from her slumber, Olivia had heard enough of Maddy’s request and slowly sat up in bed to interrupt Gavin’s tirade.

“Maddy, please tell him I’ll be down in ten minutes,” she said, turning her face to look up at her sister.

Although Maddy tried to hide it, Olivia still noticed her sister’s involuntary wince in response to her injured face. “Thank you Maddy for taking the boys, so I can talk to the police alone.”

“Your welcome, I’ll see you soon,” she replied, leaning over to kiss the top of her sister’s head.

As she left the room, Maddy stole one last glance at Gavin. I’ll need to talk to him privately she thought before hurrying out to intercept her nephews at the bus stop.

Since Gavin had kept Olivia sequestered to the second floor for the remainder of the afternoon, Officer Barton launched an investigation into her attack, the best that he could without a statement. He quickly discovered the footprints in the snow around the house which led him on a three quarter mile hike out to the main road. He surmised the attacker’s point of entry was through the garage after finding similar footprints intermingled with Olivia’s tire tracks. His next focus was Tom Jones’s previous employer, Viccerroy Malpractice Group. He contacted the insurance company and requested a complete list of every single employee from the last seven years. But first and foremost, Officer Barton conceded in frustration, I need a statement from Olivia with an accurate description of the perpetrator.

Thank God for Maddy, he thought, shaking his head. If it wasn’t for her, Gavin might have never let Olivia see the light of day again. Annoyed with his friend, Ron decided if Officer Rafferty doesn’t get a grip soon he’d request that Gavin be yanked off this investigation, immediately.

My body feels like I’ve been run over by a tractor trailer, Olivia thought, wincing. Her face smarted, her arms hurt, even her bottom ached. Actually, it seemed to throb with every single beat of her pulse. Hoping the hot water from a shower would help, she eased in, nearly groaning in pain from the heat.

Gavin had brought some fresh clothes into the guest room for her while she’d taken a shower and then he’d gone down to talk with Ron. When she finally came downstairs, moving at a snail’s pace from bruises and stiffness already settling in, she glanced around the kitchen but didn’t see him. As she approached, Ron stood up and pulled out a chair for her, noting her visual search for Gavin.

“He’ll be back in a few minutes, Olivia. I sent him on a food run.”

Actually, truth be told, Ron had taken one look at Gavin’s stony face and decided it would be best to allow him a few minutes alone to mentally prepare for listening to Olivia’s statement.