Protecting Cheyenne (SEAL of Protection Book 5) by Susan Stoker Read Free Book Online Page A

mob she’d have to go through when she walked out the door.
    Dude felt something shift deep inside of him. She was covered in grime and blood, she still had tape wrapped around most of her, her arm looked like it was horribly painful and all she wanted was someone to hold her hand. It was such a little request, but in his eyes it was huge. Women didn’t usually ask him for favors, they waited for him to dole them out. Dude’s respect for Cheyenne, in the face of everything she was feeling and going through, rose dramatically, and it was already pretty high.
    He must have hesitated a bit too long before answering, because Cheyenne suddenly shook her head, looked down and mumbled, “Never mind, it was stupid anyway. Let’s go,” and started toward the door.
    Dude caught her right hand in his left before she could take two steps and before he even thought about the fact she’d have to hold his injured hand. He’d made it a point never to hold a woman’s hand with his injured one. Ever. “Cheyenne,” he said softly, “it’s not stupid. There’s nothing I’d like better than to hold your hand as we face the lions together. Come on.” The words were nothing but one hundred percent truth. Dude wasn’t above lying to get cooperation from someone, but he wasn’t lying now. The feel of Cheyenne’s fingers in his was something Dude knew he’d never forget. She wasn’t disgusted, she wasn’t repulsed, she simply tightened her fingers around his and held on for dear life, as if she couldn’t feel the scars and missing fingers on his hand. On the outside, she looked calm and composed, but the tight grip on his hand proved it to be a façade.
    Cheyenne gripped Faulkner’s hand tightly in hers, swallowed hard, put her chin up, and took a deep breath. She started for the front door, hand in hand with the larger than life man next to her and knew, even with everything that had happened to her in the last few hours, she’d never forget this moment. Holding this man’s hand, letting him support her in that small way, meant more to her than any other gesture he could’ve made. She’d needed him and he hadn’t hesitated to step up to the plate. Not only step up, but not make her feel bad for asking in the process.
    Cheyenne blocked out the questions from the reporters, the police officers’ demands, the lights, the noise…all of it, and concentrated on holding on to Faulkner’s hand and following him wherever he wanted to lead her.
     

Chapter Four
     
     
    Cheyenne sat in the lobby of the emergency room waiting for her taxi. The walk from the front of the store to the ambulance was a nightmare she didn’t want to think about. The only good part was Faulkner’s strength as he helped clear the way for her. At one point she’d been jostled hard enough that she would’ve fallen to the ground if it hadn’t been for Faulkner. He’d taken his hand out of her own and wrapped his arm around her waist and curled her into his body. Cheyenne hadn’t even been ashamed to lean into him and let him help her.
    With everything she’d been through in the last few hours, it had felt so good to be held tight and safe against Faulkner’s side and let him deal with making sure they made it through all the people safely. He’d helped her over to the ambulance and made sure she’d settled into the gurney without any issues. Once she was sitting and stable, Faulkner had kissed the top of her head briefly and squeezed her hand one last time. The last Cheyenne had seen of him was as he’d backed out of the ambulance. He’d given her a smile and a half wave before the doors shut in his face.
    She’d spent the last three hours in the hospital. She’d given her statement to the police about what had happened, at least what had happened from her viewpoint. The nurses had removed the rest of the tape, which had been more painful than Cheyenne had thought it would be, and had both arms gooped up with lotion and antibiotics and who