John watched the dark haired woman stand up shakily and promptly sit back down again on her chair; and had to force himself to ignore the urge to close the distance between them and lead her outside to clear her head. The quick turn she had taken from being capable and in control to unsteady unnerved him a bit; and he decided to call Finch and let him know that he intended to follow Lena home to ensure her safety.
“Are you really sure that’s necessary, Mr. Reese?” Finch’s voice asked from the other line, a slight tinge of worry lacing his next words. “That would take you directly into mob territory; and I highly doubt that they will take too kindly to your presence what with their boss in jail partly by your own doing.”
“Don’t have a choice, Finch. I’m not letting her walk back alone in this condition. I’ll call you when I’m heading back.” John responded, smiling inwardly at his boss’ concern before disconnecting the call and getting up to follow a now very wobbly Lena out the door and into the night. Try though he might, the former agent couldn’t fight his unusual desire to protect this mysterious woman; despite the fact that he knew that she could take care of herself. Something about the way she was acting tonight worried him; and he was not about to knowingly let another woman that he cared for walk into a trap, no matter how illogical his feelings for her seemed.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Lena Burton turned down the alley on her left, taking her frequent short-cut towards home; and simultaneously suppressing a groan as she realized it was raining. Maybe it was a good thing, she thought; something to allow the fog now surrounding her brain to dissipate. She hated the feeling of not being completely in control, and it was with a great force of will that she held off her panic; focusing instead on getting home to her bed. As she continued walking through the deserted alley, skirting puddles to avoid ruining her new heels; her thoughts returned (albeit slowly) to her father.
How in hell could he expect her to keep control over his enterprise when most of his “crew” didn’t even know she existed? Only those in his tightest inner circle (Scarface, unfortunately, being one of those individuals) knew who she really was; while most others in her father’s gang thought she was just someone he kept around because she was easy on the eyes. With that kind of thinking, she had no way of commanding anyone’s respect.
But did she want their respect? She didn’t even want to be thought of as an associate of her father’s; much less the one who would carry out his will while he was gone. But she had agreed without a second thought when he had given her that desperate; almost pleading look from behind the glass. She knew then, that no matter how some of his actions upset her to no end; she would move heaven and earth if it made him happy. Having his trust and respect had become more important to her than assuaging her guilt over some of the things he was a part of; and this fact alone had been one of the leading reasons that she hadn’t taken the nearest exit from this life, despite how much she wanted to.
Sighing and bringing a hand up to swat a drenched curl away from her face; Lena was forced to come to a sudden stop when she saw the man who had suddenly appeared before her.
“Hi there beautiful” he said, his voice and his leer alone enough to send shivers down her spine. “You’re certainly dressed to impress tonight.”
She eyed him carefully, trying to sift through her mental fog to figure out what she should do about this unexpected turn of events. She began backing away from him slowly, still trying to latch onto her fleeting thoughts; when her heel caught on a crack in the pavement, forcing her to stumble back into the side wall of the alley as the man continued to walk towards her.
“C’mon, Lena, think” she pleaded with herself as she realized with a jolt of fear that she was now effectively caged in between her assailant and the wall. She knew she had to do something…what was it that her father taught her regarding how to deal with shady men? For the life of her, she couldn’t remember.
Shaking her head to bring herself back to reality, she found herself letting out a soft whimper that had been meant to be a scream as the man brought a hand up to caress her face while the other rested uncomfortably on her hip and pinned her lower half to the wall with surprising strength. She wanted to bring her knee up to connect with his groin; but she couldn’t seem to make her extremities cooperate with her brain’s directions. She couldn’t do anything while in this damned mental haze, except watch in horror as the man’s mouth moved closer to hers and she felt his hand slide up underneath her skirt…
Fighting the panic that was clawing its way to the surface, she closed her eyes and tried frantically to think of what to do next. After several moments of attempting to corral her unruly and elusive thoughts (while the man had migrated from roughly kissing her mouth to trailing sharp bites down her neck), Lena finally came to the conclusion that she should attempt to pry his face away from her neck. She sluggishly moved her hands up to do just that; but was spared the trouble of going any further when her attacker was suddenly yanked away from her and tossed into the wall opposite them.
Still maintaining her position with her back flat against the cold brick wall of the alley; Lena watched in confusion as the tall man made short work of her would-be attacker. She knew that there was something about him that should have triggered her recognition; but she couldn’t quite make it through the fog holding her brain in a vice-like grip to figure out what that was. Her curiosity piqued, she was just about to take a step away from the wall to get a closer look at her rescuer when the alley spun with such a force that she crumpled to the ground; slipping out of consciousness completely as she blacked out against the damp pavement.
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
With one last punch to the jaw for good measure, John Reese dropped the unconscious body of the man who attempted to take advantage of Lena’s vulnerable state to the floor of the alley, turning with a slight smirk to tease her:
“You know, Lena, you really should…Lena?” His teasing demeanor turned instantly to fear as he took in her form that was now sprawled on the ground in front of him. Kicking the attacker’s feet out of the way, he quickly reached her side; looping one arm around her shoulders to pull her limp body towards him as his other hand went to her neck to feel for a pulse. Satisfied that her heart was still beating, he sat down on the damp pavement; pulling her into a sitting position against his chest as he used his other hand to dial Finch.
“Mr. Reese, if you’re calling to tell me that you need help escaping the mob; let me just say I told you so” Harold’s voice said; the testiness he was feeling radiating through the phone and making his opinion of his employee’s actions crystal clear.
“Nothing like that, Finch. There’s been a change in plans.” John replied, biting back his original retort in an effort to be expedient. He knew that Harold had his best interests at heart; but it still irked him how his employer seemed to expect that he remain aloof and unattached from every single person he encountered. Looping his arm more securely around Lena’s waist to keep her from sliding down his chest to lay flat on the pavement again; he continued:
“We’ve encountered a…complication. I’m taking her back to my place to keep her safe for the time being; and I’ll need you to go over the videos of her at the bar in the meantime. Someone had to have slipped something in her drink to get her to act this way; and it may have something to do with her number being up.”
“Are we sure that it isn’t just a classic case of someone not being able to hold their liquor, Mr. Reese?” Finch’s voice sounded over the line; even as the audible clacking of his fingers against the keyboard also came through.
“Call me when you get something, Finch?” John said, pointedly ignoring the older man’s snide remark as he disconnected the call. Returning his gaze back to Lena, he trailed his thumb lightly over the angle of her cheekbone before easing his other arm underneath her and lifting her easily into his arms so that he could make his way back out of the alley and towards his own apartment. His employer could snark all he wanted to; but Lena was a person who needed their protection just like everyone else. As long as he could remain as objective as possible; John didn’t see why there had to be any issue at all.
“Yeah, like hell” he muttered to himself as he carried Lena towards the safety of his apartment.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………….
Once at his apartment, John set Lena temporarily on the chair near the bed; striding over to turn back the sheets before returning to her and noticing that her clothes, like his own, were dripping from the weather outside. Frowning for a moment, he walked over to his closet; opening the door and, after some consideration, pulling out a crisp white shirt. He returned to the young woman’s side; tossing the shirt on the bed as he knelt in front of her and debated how best to get her out of her sopping clothes in her current state.
After a few more moments of eyeing her, and trying to avoid noticing how heartbreakingly small and alone she looked; he began removing her shoes, setting them both on the floor beside the chair before moving on to her dress. That caused him some difficulty; in part because the zipper was in the back, requiring him to pull her close in order to get it undone; and in part because the small act of his thumb brushing against the skin of her back as he tugged at said zipper caused her to arch into him and let out a small moan that was nearly his undoing.
Cursing himself over how he wanted nothing more than to hear her make that sound again, he set her back against the chair; sliding the straps of the dress down over her shoulders and averting his eyes from the rest of her body as he slid the garment the rest of the way down her small frame until it slipped off over her feet, landing with a damp splash on the floor of his apartment.
He paused then, in an effort to corral his thoughts; seriously considering tossing her in the bed in her bra and underwear to avoid inciting any more of his thoughts that should be damn well left alone. Casting that option aside, however, he picked up the shirt from his bed; once again bringing her close to him as he slid it around her shoulders. The muscle in his jaw jumped as her soft breath gusted against his neck; and it was all he could do not to drop her unceremoniously back onto the chair and leap away from her as though he had been burned.
Finally succeeding in getting the shirt around her body and navigating her arms through the sleeves that were just a little too long for her; he busied himself with the slightly less rattling task of buttoning the front of the shirt so that she had at least some sense of privacy for when she woke up. Shaking his head at his own ridiculous thoughts; he picked her up again, gently placing her on the bed and covering her up before retreating to the shower in an effort to calm the unsettling torrent of emotion that had just been unleashed.
He knew that he shouldn’t allow himself to feel this way about her…hell; he shouldn’t allow himself to feel this way about any woman. Since Jessica, it had been so easy to shut himself down so as to avoid becoming attached to someone that just may wind up hurting him in the end. After what his former girlfriend’s death had almost turned him into; he had been sure that remaining aloof, just like Harold wanted him to, was for the best.
But there was something about Lena Burton…he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. He recognized the fact that she was a beautiful woman; almost too beautiful. But that wasn’t the only reason that his usually calm demeanor was shattered in her presence. Since the first time they met, he had been overcome not only by her beauty, but by an unyielding desire to protect her; to keep her safe from the harm that would likely come her way because of who she was related to. And, in every encounter the two of them had from that moment; she had gotten under his skin in a way no other woman ever had before. From her playful banter with him at times, to the infuriating way that she kept insisting on remaining by her father’s side no matter what the consequences; John found himself irrevocably and involuntarily drawn to her. He supposed that she reminded him a little bit of himself from when he was with the Agency…sticking by “the cause” no matter how wrong it seemed; out of a fierce desire to remain loyal to those who had given her a purpose. And perhaps it was that fact that prompted him to protect her from herself; not wanting her to fall into the same ruin that had almost been his own downfall.
Whatever the reason was, he knew on some level that it would be best for all of them if her case was wrapped up swiftly. Then she could go back to her life; and he could return to his own, and no one would find themselves crossing that thin line into the territory of what should never, ever happen.
With this thought in mind, John dried himself off from his shower and donned a t-shirt and jeans before he dialed Finch’s number once again; hoping beyond hope that the billionaire had made some headway in figuring out how Lena had come to be in this predicament so that they could take care of the problem quickly and move on.
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