Taming the Lone Wolff(84)
“Because he was expecting you to fall in line.”
Winnie grimaced. “Yes.”
“Damn,” Larkin said gruffly. “You are one amazing woman. But I’m guessing he didn’t take that well.” He let her see his admiration, but not his loathing for her attacker. She had refused to be a victim and he would do all in his power to protect that heartbreaking dignity.
“He did not. First, he tried to undress me again. I kneed him in the groin. Then he tried threats. I laughed at him.”
“Ouch.”
“He said some pretty awful things about how no man would ever want me after what had happened and that I was hopeless when it came to sex. For a long time afterward, I believed him.”
“Bastard…”
“Then he threw me into a wall and broke my jaw.”
“Jesus.”
They stared at each other, Winnie’s gaze wary, her arms wrapped around her waist. She shrugged. “He stormed out. I think the blood scared him. I called an ambulance and ended up having surgery. When it was all over, I found a decent lawyer and filed charges. Mike is now serving an extended sentence in a federal pen.”
“I wish I believed in the death penalty,” Larkin growled, meaning every word. The thought of a young, defenseless Winnie being sexually assaulted and abused shoved his anger to catatonic levels.
“The point is,” she said quietly, “that because I was reared in a good family, well educated and left with plenty of money, I had the self-confidence to do what I did. And the courage to do so, because I had options. Choices. The women I work with have none of that. So they stay in abusive relationships longer than they should…sometimes far too long. So now you see why I have to help.”
He bowed his head momentarily, feeling something that was far stronger than pity, much deeper than compassion.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly. “We have about a half hour before we land. Why don’t you lie back down and try to sleep.”
When Winnie closed her eyes, he heard her breathing grow deep and steady in moments. He knew that telling him her deepest secret had exhausted her emotionally. And coming on the heels of what had happened to Esteban’s mother, he suspected the recounting of her own experience of violence had drained her to the point of collapse.
His reaction to the truth was a physical pain that permeated every cell of his being. Though it made no sense, he felt guilty that he had been unable to save her. And what about now? Who would be there to keep her from harm in the years ahead? He couldn’t, wouldn’t answer the question. Not if he wanted to survive.
* * *
When Winnie walked into the safe house a couple of hours later, the women encircled her, their faces filled with relief. Despite the elaborate security precautions put in place by Larkin and his team, these vulnerable, terrified wives and girlfriends and mothers found solace in Winnie’s presence.
She had made Larkin promise to stay outside until she summoned him.
The crowd parted and Esteban stepped forward. “Hola, Miss Winnie. I missed you.” He burst into tears as she knelt and gathered him into her arms. Every set of eyes in the room was wet.
Winnie rocked him in a tight embrace as she whispered to him. “Everything will be okay, my sweet boy. Don’t you worry.”