Jake took the little hand with its cold familiarity, and led a reluctant Riley into the station. He understood her fear and hesitation, but he knew why this had to be done, and it was important that she followed through. It warmed his heart that she did trust him enough to do what he was telling her. He knew for a fact that if he ordered her to do this she would, but it made him sick to think about treating her that way. He would be no better than her evil parents, or her shitbag ex...or even that bully Will, if he marched her in there and commanded her to give a statement.

Travis stood immediately and bustled around his desk to greet them as they walked in.

"Hiya, sweetheart. How ya feelin'?", Travis smiled at her in a fatherly way.

"Uh...I...um", she floundered, flushing and peering up at Jake for guidance, her voice shaky.

Jake squeezed her hand lightly. "She's real nervous' bout this", he explained. "Worried 'bout retaliation".

"Yeah. Sure. That's a common worry", Travis said understandingly, nodding. He motioned with his arm toward his office. "Why don'tcha both come on in and let's talk about that?"

Travis' demeanor was exactly what Riley needed, Jake mused as they listened to him talk. He was fatherly and kind, but completely honest. He didn't bullshit her one bit about the process, her valid concerns, or the possible results of the charges.

"I gotta tell ya, you really need to be careful what you do or who you do it with", Travis cautioned. "If you were one of my girls, I woulda already had this discussion with ya about ten years ago, but in case no one has, you're gettin' it now. You're a real pretty girl and there's no end to the amount of creeps in this world who don't care about anythin' other than the way ya look. If ya want, you can always talk to me 'bout someone or something, and I can give you an assessment, tell ya to steer clear if need be. I think ya can trust Jake and Will, too, so don't hesitate to ask them for advice, either. None of us want anything to happen to ya".

She had flushed, ducked her head, nodded, and swiped away a solitary tear which had escaped.

"Thank you", she said in a barely audible voice.

Finally, Travis slid the formal statement paperwork across the desk to Riley with a pen. She turned her peridot eyes to Jake and teared up.

"I still don't want to do this", she said quietly.

Jake placed his hand on the back of her head, running his fingers through her hair without even thinking about what he was doing. He felt a sinking wave of disappointment, and fear for her safety flooded his body.

He sighed, "It's yer decision".

"You think I should, though?"

"Yeah, baby, I sure do".

She looked back at Travis. He nodded.

She leaned forward and Jake dropped his hand from her hair as she took up the pen and began filling out the form.

"A word", Travis said quietly, his knowing brown eyes meeting Jake's over Riley's pretty auburn head.

Jake stood with him, following him out of his 'office' into the waiting area.

Travis walked all the way over to the front door and said in a low voice, barely over a whisper, "Ya know you can't protect her if you're behind bars".

"I ain't plannin' on bein' there", Jake pointed out, moderately confused.

"Sometimes the only way to prevent ourselves from doin' somethin' stupid is to make our minds up not to do it before the situation even presents itself", Travis continued.

"What're ya sayin'?"

"I'm sayin' your anger is justified, and I know why you done what you did to Sam, but you were real close to crossin' a line, and I don't want ya to cross it. Be willin' to guess that lil' gal don't wantcha to, either".

"So she said", Jake agreed.

"Good", Travis said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let's get you two outta here".

...........................................................................

Filling out the statement was emotionally draining, which added to the physical exhaustion I was already fighting against. I felt that I could barely find the energy to climb up into Jake's cab.

Once he had settled into the driver's seat and started moving the rusty old truck down the road, he extended his right arm to me, motioning me over to him as he had last night on the couch.

I didn't even think about being awkward, I simply slid over the bench seat without hesitation, leaning up against him, head on his shoulder, which surprised me even as I did it. I sure was comfortable being close to him. In fact, if I was being honest, I preferred it, even though my cheeks burned.

"I'm proud of ya, kid", he said. "Real fuckin' proud".

I didn't bother replying. I didn't know what to say and was too exhausted to make the effort anyway. I shivered slightly and he quickly reached across with his driving hand to turn the heat on, then resumed driving.

I was more asleep than not as we pulled to a stop in my driveway. I knew that was only a ten minute drive, too.

I sat up feeling groggy and awful.

Jake turned off the truck. "You gotta eat", he commented.

"Too tired", I told him.

"Ain't an option", he said stubbornly. "You rest, I'll cook".

"Fine".

He opened his door and slid out, immediately turning back for me. I didn't even protest him slipping one muscular arm under my legs and carrying me out rather than simply helping me down.

All I did was lay my head on his shoulder and shut my eyes gratefully. Something had definitely changed- in me, and with him, since the drinking incident. I trusted him more, appreciated him more, and was being honest with myself about my feelings, however unrequited they might be.

.............................................................................

Jake was no expert cook by any means, but he did all right, feedin' himself as he had the past four years.  For supper, he made his version of sloppy joes, using venison and his own sauce recipe. He steamed carrots and red potatoes, dropped a giant hunk of butter on top, set the table, and went to collect Riley.

He had initially been alarmed at how groggy she was when he deposited her on her bed, but he pondered that as he was cooking and concluded it made sense. He would bet she hadn't eaten lunch at the cafe, and she had hardly eaten the day prior due to the puking, plus her body had gone through a lot of work throwing up for an entire day. No wonder she was beat.

Probably sore as fuck, too, he thought grumpily. She's sleepin' in that new bed tonight, not the fuckin' couch. I ain't havin' it. I'll sleep on the floor next to her if that's what it takes.

He had paused momentarily and almost started laughing out loud at the image which had popped into his head of him nestled on the floor, but the implications behind it were sobering.

Would I really do that for her?

If that's what she needed to feel safe, you bet I fuckin' would, he immediately replied to himself, almost defensively.

Riley didn't stir as he turned on the lamp in her bedroom. He squatted next to her bed, noticing her perfect features, how pale she was, and the purplish crescents underneath her long, black lashes.

He ran his hand affectionately across her head. "Time to get up", he said in a low voice.

She didn't stir.

"Riley", he said, closer to her ear, running the backs of his fingers across the curve of her sculpted cheekbone.

"Mmmmm", she grunted at him, grabbing his wrist to stop his hand but not opening her eyes.

He smiled at her. God, she was adorable.

"Baby, I need ya to get up and eat", he said gently.

"I'm too tired", she whispered. "You go ahead".

"Uh-uh. Yer body needs food. I bet you'll feel less tired when ya get somethin' in ya".

"No", she whispered, still holding his wrist.

"I ain't above force feedin' ya", he mock threatened.

"Uhhhhhhh", she moaned, dropping his wrist and covering her head with her arm instead.

Jake started laughing. He couldn't help himself. Then he scooped her up and carried her to the kitchen table, depositing her in one of the tall chairs.

She took a sip of water then rested her forehead on her left hand, of which the elbow was braced on the table, and grudgingly picked up her fork. She ate some of the vegetables silently and slowly, then she opened up the sandwich with the fork and used it to collect some sloppy joe. After she had swallowed a bite of that, she raised her head off her hand and met his eyes.

"Jake, did you make the sauce?", she asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah, I can cook", he replied, feeling moderately offended.

"This is wonderful!", she said enthusiastically. "Really excellent".

"Don't sound so surprised", he added, his pride wounded.

She must have caught his tone.

"Oh, Jake, I am not teasing you. I'm not surprised you can cook, I simply wasn't expecting...I saw sloppy joes and that's what I expected it to taste like...".

She took another bite.

"Is this a recipe you followed or did you create this?", she asked next.

"Created".

"I am thoroughly impressed", she smiled at him. "Glad I woke up for this".

He let go of his hurt feelings and smiled back at that little face lit with the light of a persistently beautiful soul.

Jake finished eating first tonight, which wasn't typically the case, but Riley was eating real slowly. He waited for her to finish, as she always did for him, then stood and collected their plates before she could.

"Jake, I can-".

"You can get yer ass ready for bed", he cut her off.

"But I-".

"Shower if you need to, otherwise pajamas on, teeth brushed, face washed".

She laughed lightly. "You know my routine?", she asked jokingly.

He set the dishes in the sink, turned around, folded his arms across his chest and smirked at her.

"Do ya not remember forcin' me to wash yer face for ya?", he asked, and relished in watching her jaw drop, green eyes widen, and cheeks redden.

"I...what now?"

"I was standin' behind ya and had ya pinned between me an' the sink, 'cause ya kept fallin' on me, and ya cried 'till I did it. I had to reach around ya and I had no idea what I was doin' and I couldn't see, and I was scared you was gonna open yer eyes and I'd get soap in'em, and then I'd have'ta deal with that...".

Her hands were pressed to her mouth and she was shaking her head, dumbfounded.

"Oh my gosh, Jake! I have no words! I am seriously so, so sorry. I promise not to put you through that again!"

"I can handle ya drunk, it's the shakin' and non-stop pukin' I don't ever wanna see again".

Her face wavered like she might cry.

"I ain't mad", he assured her quietly. "Just hate to see ya sufferin'".

"You're very kind", she said quietly, and left the room.

Jake started the dishes, and before he was done, he heard the shower running.

...........................................................................

As I sudsed my hair in a steaming hot shower, I tried to remember Jake washing my face for me. I couldn't recall it, which was terrifying, and no less embarrassing than if I had visualized every detail all over again.

I finished showering, dried my hair, put comfy clothes on for pajamas, and exited the bathroom.

I realized that I hadn't asked Jake to continue staying with me. I had assumed he would, and I didn't want to push my luck, but I sure wanted him there.

I discovered he had turned country music on the radio in the living room, and was standing in the kitchen with a broom in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other.

I started laughing at the sight.

He whirled. "What's so funny, woman?", he asked in a gruff voice. I knew he was kidding- his blue-gray eyes were sparkling as they tended to do when he found me amusing.

"Were you dancing with that broom?", I asked.

"Yeah. So?", he asked, setting his whiskey down on the table.

"Let's see", I said, continuing to grin at him.

He arched an eyebrow, leaned the broom against the table, then launched into the most complicated, rapid, boot stomping dance I had ever seen- to the beat of the fast-paced country song which was playing.

My mouth dropped open. When the song ended, I clapped with such enthusiasm my hands hurt.

"Jake, that was fantastic!!!"

He grinned at me. "There ya go, underestimatin' me again".

He wasn't even breathing heavily.

"I certainly don't mean to. I am absolutely blown away. That was seriously impressive!"

He winked at me. "When yer good an' recovered, I'll teach ya".

"Oh, I would love that!", I said seriously.

"Speakin' of...", he started sternly. "Yer sleepin' in yer bed tonight, not the couch".

I felt all of the excitement and pleasure of the moment dissipate. This is what I had been fearing- him getting sick of babysitting me.

"I know it's a lot to keep asking of you", I said, hearing my voice waver, "but I was really hoping I could convince you to stay here again...tonight...".

My cheeks started flaming and I was terrified to be putting my desperate self on display, but I decided to plow forward with, "well, honestly, for as long as I can keep you".

Jake's brow had started to wrinkle as I was speaking, but at that, his face smoothed out and his eyes softened.

"I wasn't leavin'", he said quietly, "but that couch ain't good for yer strained muscles. Ya got a bran' new bed in there and that's where yer gonna stay. Now, if yer scared to be alone, I can sleep on the floor next to ya".

He's going to do WHAT?!?

"Oh, Jake, you couldn't possibly! I would never ask you to do such a thing! I will be fine. I'll be brave".

He appeared skeptical.

"I will keep my door open", I added, and he gave me a knowing smile.

"Atta girl", he said.

...........................................................................

Jake's heart had been touched beyond words to hear poor bashful Riley stumbling through asking him to stay for 'as long as I can keep you'. What he had found maddeningly annoying in the beginning was now so endearing to him, he didn't want her to change. He didn't want her to toughen up or become cynical or swear. He wanted her to be exactly the way she was- sweet, innocent, and needing him.

Jake took his cowboy boots and jeans off, stretched out on the couch, and easily fell asleep. He had drank enough whiskey to relax and he felt comfortable here. It was more homey than his shack, warmer, more positive. There was nothing but repressed trauma, and the lingering stench of guilt and shame waiting for him next door.

Sometime during the night, he woke. He had no idea what had woken him but every cell he had was on high alert. He listened hard.

It was Riley...breathing hard? No, crying...stifled crying.

He immediately sat up but paused before standing.

What if she don't want company right now?

Then he heard the slight noises of her exiting the bed, walking toward him. She was no longer crying from what he could hear.

He could tell she was walking as quietly as she possibly could, apparently so focused on that, she didn't notice him sitting up until she was next to the couch.

He heard a sharp intake of breath as she stopped short.

"Oh, no. I woke you up? I'm so sorry!"

He heard her voice break at the end and his heart went out to her. He didn't know what she was upset over, and it didn't really matter. His instinct was to help her, to make the hurt go away as quickly as possible.

He reached for her, catching her wrist, gently pulling her over to him.  He pulled her down into his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist as hers went around his neck and she lowered her head to his shoulder.

"You wanna talk about it?", he asked.

He could tell she had started crying again.

"Oh...I don't know", she said in a thick voice.

"Didya dream somethin' that upset ya?", he guessed.

A pause.

"Yes".

"A nightmare?"

Another pause.

"Yes".

"Yer alright, kid. It ain't real. Nothin's gonna happen to ya", he reassured her, squeezing her tighter.

"Yes, it was".

"What?"

"It was real", she sniffed.

"Yer nightmare was a memory?", he realized.

"Yes".

"What about?"

She physically squirmed in his arms. A wave of apprehension hit him in the chest. He instinctively knew he wouldn't be okay with whatever she had dreamed about.

"You can tell me anythin'", he said reassuringly. "I can handle it".

However...he wasn't sure if he could.

She sniffed again. "I don't know...".

"Ain't gonna help ya to keep it in".

There was a lengthy pause while he waited.

"Harrison was trying to kill me", she finally said from down below his chin, barely audible.

Jake felt his pulse throb to life.

What.

"He actually tried to kill you, or that's what you was dreamin'?", he clarified.

"Both".

One of her hands had a fistful of his shirt at the collar and she was twisting it nervously.

"How?", Jake asked through clenched teeth.

"He was strangling me. I couldn't breathe". She half sobbed but caught herself. "I was terrified. I nearly lost consciousness".

"How'd you get away?"

"His mother came into the room. She convinced him to let go. She wasn't concerned about me but she was concerned about him leaving marks on my neck. You know where the phrase 'rule of thumb' comes from?"

"Unfortunately, yes".

Jake's pulse was throbbing so hard, his head was hurting and he found it hard to breathe.

"In our families' circles, the rule of thumb is you can hit your wife as long as you don't damage her face or leave marks that can't be hidden".

"That's deranged!", Jake snapped, feeling utterly revolted.

"I didn't say I agreed", Riley said in a broken voice, squirming and attempting to take off out of his lap.

She had tears on her face and she was avoiding eye contact.

"Woah", he said, not loosening his hold. "It ain't you I'm judgin'. Talk to me. Why'd he do this?"

"Because I told him I wanted a divorce".

"He couldn't control ya anymore so he wanted to kill ya?"

"He didn't want the scandal. None of them did. It made him especially look like a failure and I think that was too much for him to bear".

Jake carefully wiped away her tears with his thumb.

Only then did she meet his eyes, and only briefly. It was dark, the muted moonlight the only light he had, but he could see her shame and embarrassment.

"Hey", he said.

He waited until she met his eyes again.

"None of this was yer fault. You have every right to be treated with respect and not abuse".

Her chin dipped down and she appeared to be staring at her hands in her lap.

Jake had a sudden terrifying thought.

"It made him angry you was leavin' 'cause it made him look like a failure as a man?"

"Yes", she replied.

"His friends, colleagues, they would judge him?"

"Oh, yes, absolutely. They were very harsh. He would do the same if it were his friend going through it rather than him, though".

"Toxic", Jake muttered. "And he hit ya randomly, too, right? Like he could be considered a violent person?"

She shifted in his lap.

"Um, not abusive like you see in the movies but...yes, he hurt me frequently. It was more like... I don't know...".

She squirmed again.

"Um, intimidation or humiliation, I guess I'd call it...rather than beating...but yes, he hurt me in little ways when I didn't do what he wanted correctly. Like a slap or he'd squeeze my arm hard or pull my hair. The choking incident was the worst".

"I'd fuckin' hope so. Jesus", Jake breathed.

She raised one hand to her face, shielded her eyes, and started crying again.

"Ahhh, darlin', I'm sorry", he said, guiding her head back to his shoulder and wrapping his arms back around her. "Sensitivity's never been my strong point. I'm sorry this happened to ya. It makes me so fuckin' angry I could kill every single one of 'em".

Indeed, he was having difficulty breathing evenly.

"These fuckin' people ain't here", he assured her, "an' they ain't gonna be. You ain't never gotta see any of them assholes ever again".

"You say you're not sensitive but you always say exactly what I need to hear", she said quietly from his shoulder. "I'm sorry I told you such horrible things".

He squeezed her slightly. "I wanna know. I want you to tell me everythin'. I can't help ya if I don't know".

After a couple minutes, she sat upright and said, "Can I go to the bathroom now?"

"Ya ain't gotta ask me permission!", he growled.

"Sorry", she replied, quickly getting out of his lap. 

As she disappeared into the bathroom, his thought fully formed- Harrison himself could have easily been the one to solicit those guys to kidnap the woman who ruined his social image. It would fit his character.

...........................................................................

My nightmare had been horrible- so realistic I had woken up panting for breath with my throat aching like it had at the time.

I hadn't thought about this incident for months. It was behind me with the rest of my life, so why would this dream hit me now? Why now? I could tell it upset Jake. He was probably questioning my sanity at this moment for having stayed with Harrison as long as I had.

Harrison had seriously snapped, utterly lost it once he realized how serious I was about getting divorced.

His mother had pulled him off of me, talked him down while I gasped for air and tried to recover enough to leave.

Then she helped me to my feet, gave me to a chauffeur, and sent me home with the threat, "You really don't want to do this, Rillian. You know you're simply being emotional right now. Think about everything you will lose. Take some time, reconsider your options. I can help".

There was a time when those words would have sounded comforting, when I would have believed she was being genuine, when I would have trusted her and taken her up on that offer.

That time had passed. I only heard empty manipulations. When I got home, I went online and searched for lawyers. By the end of the day I had an appointment with a woman specializing in divorce.

Neither of us anticipated Harrison's family pulling out their high powered corporate lawyers to run the divorce through the ringer. An entire year later ended me here.

I'm glad I'm here, I impulsively thought. I would have never met Jake otherwise.

I used the bathroom, splashed cold water on my face, dug out some acetaminophen, and returned to him while absentmindedly rubbing my neck.

I was about to sit next to him again but he stood.

"Hold up", he said softly, one palm lightly against my stomach.

I had left the bathroom light on so I could see his troubled face clearly.

"Ya ready to try sleepin' again?", he asked.

"Maybe...".  If I can lay by you.

"I'm real serious 'bout ya not layin' on this couch", he said quietly, "but ya don't wanna be alone?"

"Correct".

"I don't mind sleepin' on the floor", he said. "I wasn't kiddin' when I said that".

The words were out of my mouth before I considered the implications.

"Can you sleep in my bed?"

His eyebrows raised slightly but otherwise he gave no signs of surprise.

I suddenly realized what I had asked, felt my face flame with embarrassment, and backpedaled.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean...I shouldn't assume...I don't want to make you uncomfortable. It's just that...you are...I sleep so much better with you. I'm sorry. I'll be all right alone. You don't need to sleep on the floor. I would feel terrible".

He hadn't moved, had maintained eye contact, still had his hand on my stomach.

"You want me to lay by ya or don'tcha?"

My voice shook as I replied honestly, "I do".

"Then that's what I'm doin' like we done on the cot and the couch. It ain't a big thing 'cause it's a bed. Don't make it one".

I nodded. He was being rational. His logic made sense and put out the fire in my face.

"Go", he instructed, patting my hip.

I went...into my bed...to wait for the man I had a crush on to lay in there with me.

I felt my cheeks flame to life again in the dark.

...........................................................................

* I appreciate your reads and votes! Thank you for sticking with my story! *