Outlaw by Nicole James Read Free Book Online

machinery was long gone. Angel
could still see the open industrial type duct work hanging form the ceiling. The floor was cement and the walls were brick, the
top half of which were old, multi-paned, factory style windows. They were
covered in years of dirt and grime. There was a pool table on the left, and
some tables and chairs scattered about. Some old, ratty sofas lined the far
left wall, and a bar was set up on the right. It was dimly lit, and deserted.
    Cole let go of her hand, and walked behind the bar.
He bent into a cooler, and pulled out a couple of cans of soda. Then he came
back around, took her hand, and led her through the room, up a flight of metal
stairs to a second floor, and down a dark hallway.
    They passed several doors. Angel guessed they must
have been the offices of whatever business used to occupy the building. They
were the old fashioned kind of doors with frosted glass at the top half. There
was still gold lettering on them, indicating whose office they had once been.
She read the doors as they passed. Purchasing. Production. Engineering.
Accounting. President. Cole stopped at the last door on the right, and taking
out a set of keys, he unlocked the deadbolt. The gold lettering read, Vice
President.
    When they stepped inside, Angel realized it was now
set up as a bedroom, of sorts. There was a full size bed against the exposed
brick on the left wall. More old, industrial, multi-paned windows framed either
side of the bed. These were also grimy with dirt, but at least they let in some
light. Pushed up against the opposite wall sat an old wooden desk and swivel
chair, probably the original desk from the business. There were some shelves,
and a dresser cluttered with empty liquor and beer bottles. Another doorway led
to what looked like a bathroom.
    “Sit down,” Cole said, indicating the bed. He popped
the top on one of the cans, and handed it to her. Then he disappeared into the
bathroom.
    Angel drank thirstily from the can, and could hear
him rummaging through a cabinet. He came back, and pulled up the chair from the
desk, and sat in front of her. He opened a bottle of aspirin, shook a couple
out, and handed them to her.
    “Take these.”
    She popped them into her mouth, and took a drink.
    Cole took the can out of her hand, and set it on the
bedside table. He held his hands out. “Let me take a look at your wrists.”
    She looked into his eyes, and tentatively held them out.
    He took them in his hands, and examined her thin
wrists that were covered with purple and yellow bruising. He ran his thumbs
over them. He shook his head softly, then reached for
a tube of antibiotic ointment he’d brought from the bathroom, and tenderly
spread some on the cuts on her wrists.
    “The bruising is awful, but you’ll live,” Colt
reassured, smiling up at her.
    “Thanks,” she whispered, undone by his gentle
ministrations.
    “When’s the last time you ate?” he asked.
    “Before the party.”
    “So, three days ago?” His eyebrows shot up, his face
clearly showing his astonishment.
    She nodded.
    He shook his head, tossing the ointment on the
bedside table. “That son-of-a-bitch. I’m gonna enjoy
killing him,” he murmured under his breath. He took Angel’s hands in his, and
rubbed his thumbs across the top of her hands. He struggled to find the words
to tell her how sorry he was for all that had happened to her.
    She looked down, watching the motion of his thumbs
on her skin. If he hadn’t shown her any sympathy, she could have held it
together. But it all caught up with her then. She was so tired of being
frightened, of trying to be strong. She tried to fight it, but the tears came,
and she didn’t have the strength to fight them.
    “Hey,” he whispered softly, tilting her chin up to
look into her eyes. They were starting to fill with tears. “Hey, hey. It’s okay
now. You’re safe here.”
    She broke down into sobs as she finally let what
happened to her sink in.
    Cole could have handled