Breaking His Dancer

chapter five

The last thing Charles expected was to receive a call on his personal phone from none other than Sammy at one o'clock in the afternoon on his day off. Yet, that was what had happened. The poor woman had been in hysterics as she recounted the events of her day. Whoever this bastard was that was stalking her had managed to find out where she was staying. She didn't feel safe anywhere anymore. He couldn't really blame her. The poor woman had been through enough already.

That's how he found himself driving across town in the middle of the afternoon, to do the most unprofessional thing he could possibly do: pick up Sammy and her son to come stay at his house for the time being. He couldn't think of a reason to justify to any of his superiors having a twenty-four hour detail on the poor girl, in spite of the terrors that she had already witnessed by this mysterious stalker. Professionality be damned. At this point, his one and only concern was her safety. She had been on the forefront of his mind since the night before and in spite of his best efforts, he had been unable to stop thinking of her.

He got to the hotel fairly quickly and found her sitting in the lobby with her head in her hands as her small son sat next to her tentatively rubbing circles on her back. He could see that she was crying. Not that he could really blame her. She had been through quite a lot. He approached her carefully, not wanting to startle her. The gentle clearing his throat prompted her to look up at him. It took all of his willpower not to pull her into him. Her beautiful face was stained with tears, her mascara running down her cheeks, her eyes red. She sniffled pathetically as she looked up at him and his heart melted at the sight. She already had him wrapped around her finger, and she didn't even know it.

“Hi, Sam.” His voice came out much huskier than he meant for it to. He picked up the bag at her feet and offered his hand to her. She took it hesitantly and he smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring and comforting.

“I have a plan to help keep you safe” he said. She opened her mouth to ask questions but he held up a hand for her silence. “ but, if I'm going to do this than I will require your total obedience. You're not to question me, you are to follow my orders and do as I say. Your safety may very well depend on your ability to do so. Do you understand?” The words sounded entirely reasonable to him. Laying out his expectations before bringing her home was a big part of making sure that she was kept safe. But as her face went from tearful and despondent to full of rage, he began to question his own choice of words.

She looked at him incredulously. Here she was, in tears, in a helpless and terrifying situation, and this man dared demand obedience from her as if she were a dog. Something within her snapped. Her indignance flaring. From her seated position she looked up at his face, screamed the scream of someone who had endured too much and finally broken, and slapped him across the face as hard as she could.

The minute her hand connected with his face she instantly regretted her action. Disbelief flashed in his eyes before something much darker, and more dangerous came to the forefront. He grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

“You're going to regret that later, littlegirl.” his voice was a deep growl, and she shivered at the sound. “But for now, we need to get you out of this hotel lobby, and somewhere safe.”

Chills traveled down her spine. She gulped, and stared into his captivating hazel eyes. He had a glint in his eyes that reminded her of a predator, ready to hunt his prey.

Still, she gathered her things and stood, following him to the car. What choice did she have? It seemed like absolutely nowhere was safe for her anymore. And at the very least this man would keep her son safe. Of that she had no doubt. He may be militant in demeanor, but with that also came a sense of honor that she knew wouldn't let her harm a child. She didn't know why she was so sure of this, yet she followed him out to the car with no hesitation, praying that her instincts were correct.

They arrived at his house in short order. The car ride was probably less than ten minutes, and yet the entire time Sammy couldn't help but feel a sense of growing dread and anxiety. He said nothing to her, just glanced at her from time to time as she sat in the passenger seat. Her emotions churned as she watched him from her peripheral vision. Oh yeah, she had definitely pissed him off. anger , and something much more potently s****l in nature, seemed to roll off him in waves.

Once they arrived, he showed them to his guest room which had a large queen sized bed in the center that would easily fit both her and her son. The room was painted in a calming gray color. Against one wall was a TV stand with a medium sized TV, and three different types of game consoles on it. The minute that her son's eyes fell upon the electronics, his face lit up with glee. She put her hand on his shoulder, reminding him to be patient and wait.

They deposited their bags into the room and followed him out into the kitchen. The house itself was plain, but tidy. There were no pictures of family hung on the walls, no knick knacks or scented candles of any kind. The walls were all painted in neutral beige or gray colors, and the furniture was sparse. While comfortable, the space had a certain steryl and spartan feel to it.

She still wasn't certain why she was here. It seemed like he planned to have her stay with him for a while. A strange thrill went through her body at the thought and she silently chastised herself for this. He was here to help her, she needed to keep her distance. Be professional. He was the chief of police for gods sake! She nearly jumped ten feet in the air when the deep timbre of his voice jarred her from her thoughts.

“I've already ordered pizza. I figured that by this point we would all be tired and not too interested in cooking. I imagine that it will arrive any minute. In the meantime, make yourselves at home. I want you both to feel as comfortable as possible here. There's a TV in the living room. I have a few calls to make, and then I'll join you” He turned to leave as Sammy stepped forward, intent on apologizing for having slapped him. He looked her in the eye and subtly shook his head. Resigned, she turned and followed her son into the living room to watch TV.