You're okay now. The nearest hospital was 15 mi away, and the roads were getting worse by the minute. Ryan looked at the woman, her eyes glassy with shock, her breathing shallow and uneven, and made a decision. He couldn't wait for an ambulance. He couldn't risk the drive.
He loaded her into his truck carefully like she might break and turned toward home. She drifted in and out of consciousness the whole way her head lulling against the window, her lips moving soundlessly. When they finally pulled into the driveway, the rain was still coming down relentless and cold. Ryan carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind him and laid her on his bed. It was the only place that made sense.
He pulled the blanket over her, checked her pulse, her breathing. She was stable, he thought. Hoped. He didn't know what else to do. Her clothes were soaked through, clinging to her like a second skin, and Ryan knew she needed to get out of them before hypothermia set in.
He worked quickly, methodically, trying not to think too hard about what he was doing. He found a towel, dried her arms her face. He draped a spare shirt over her, something oversized and soft, and hung her wet suit jacket over the back of a chair to dry. When he was done, he stepped back, his own clothes dripping onto the floor, and let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. She looked small in his bed, vulnerable in a way that didn't match the expensive watch on her wrist or the designer labels on her clothes.
He grabbed a pillow and a blanket and headed for the couch. Sleep didn't come easy, but eventually exhaustion won. Somewhere around 3:00 in the morning, Ryan woke to the sound of small footsteps. Lily stood in the doorway of the living room, her stuffed rabbit clutched to her chest, her eyes wide and worried. Daddy, she whispered. "
Who's that lady?" Ryan sat up, rubbing his face. " Someone who needed help, sweetheart." Lily tilted her head, considering this. " Is she okay?" "
I think so." " Why is she in your bed?" " Because it was the safest place for her." Lily nodded slowly like this made perfect sense. " Are you going to sleep on the couch forever?"
Ryan smiled despite himself. Just for tonight. A flash of lightning lit up the room, bright and brief. And for a moment, he could see the woman clearly through the open bedroom door. Even unconscious, even battered and bruised, there was something about her that commanded attention.
Something powerful, something that made Ryan uneasy in a way he couldn't explain. Lily tugged on his sleeve. She's pretty. Go back to bed, Lil. Okay.
She padded back down the hall and Ryan lay back down staring at the ceiling. Outside the storm raged on, but inside the house was quiet except for the steady rhythm of rain against the windows. He thought about the woman in his bed, about the way she had looked at him in those brief moments of consciousness, like she was trying to memorize his face. He thought about the expensive car, the designer clothes, the diamond earrings he had carefully placed on his nightstand. Whoever she was, she came from a world he didn't understand.
A world of money and power and influence. A world where people didn't end up on the side of flooded roads and neighborhoods like his. He told himself it didn't matter. He had done what anyone would do. When morning came, she would leave, go back to wherever she belonged, and that would be the end of it.
He was sure of it. But as he drifted back to sleep, a small voice in the back of his mind whispered that nothing was ever that simple. Morning came slow and gray. The sky still heavy with clouds. Ryan made coffee in the kitchen, moving quietly so he wouldn't wake Lily.
He glanced at the suit jacket draped over the chair, the fabric expensive and perfectly tailored, and felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Whoever this woman was, she didn't belong here. He heard movement from the bedroom, the creak of floorboards, and turned. She stood in the doorway, backlit by the pale morning light, wearing his white dress shirt. It hung loose on her frame, the hem falling to mid thigh, the collar open at her throat.
Her hair was tousled, falling in waves around her face, and there were dark circles under her eyes. But she held herself like royalty, shoulders back, chin up, unbothered by the fact that she was in a stranger's house wearing a stranger's clothes. " Good morning," she said, her voice calm and measured. Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Lily appeared in the hallway, her eyes wide with curiosity. " Who are you?"
The woman looked down at her and for the first time something softened in her expression. She crouched, bringing herself to Lily's level. Just someone your dad saved. Lily studied her for a long moment, then looked at Ryan. Daddy saves people a lot.
Does he? The woman's gaze shifted back to Ryan, and there was something new in her eyes now. Something that looked almost like respect. Ryan cleared his throat. I can call you a car or an Uber.
Whatever you need, though. The woman straightened, smoothing the shirt down absently. " That won't be necessary. My driver's outside. He's been waiting since 6:00."
Ryan blinked. " Your driver?" " Yes." She walked past him into the kitchen, poured herself a cup of coffee like she had done it a hundred times before, and took a slow sip. " Thank you for the hospitality, Mr. Holt."
He hadn't told her his name. She must have seen the question on his face because she smiled just a little. Your mail was on the counter. Hey. Ryan glanced at the stack of bills and notices his name printed across the top of each one and felt heat rise to his cheeks.
The woman set the mug down and crossed her arms, studying him with an intensity that made him want to look away. You pulled me out of a burning car, she said. You brought me to your home. You gave me your bed. And you didn't ask for anything in return.
I don't need anything in return. Most people would. I'm not most people. The words came out sharper than he intended, and for a moment the air between them felt charged, dangerous. She tilted her head regarding him with something that might have been curiosity or might have been calculation. "
No," she said finally. " I don't think you are." Lily moved closer to Ryan, wrapping her small hand around his. The woman noticed, and her expression shifted again, something almost wistful crossing her face. " How old are you, sweetheart?"
she asked Lily. She's seven. That's a good age. My daddy's the best daddy in the whole world. The woman's lips curved into a genuine smile.