In His Keeping
Page 11Exactly four minutes later, her father’s Escalade roared into the parking lot and came to an abrupt halt beside Ari’s car. He was out and striding around to the driver’s seat of her vehicle before she could even open her door.
When she stepped out and couldn’t control the wince when her ribs protested, her father’s face became stormy, his eyes like stone, his jaw clenched and ticking with agitation.
“I called 911,” she said in a low voice, knowing her father wouldn’t be pleased that she hadn’t heeded his instructions. “I couldn’t just leave him there.”
“The little bastard is fortunate he’s still out,” her father said coldly. “I’d kill him for what he did to you.” Then he put a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. “Are you all right? Are you in pain?”
“I hurt,” she admitted. “I’m scraped up, but the kick to the ribs is what’s bothering me the most.”
Her father’s gaze became glacial, but he bit back whatever response was burning on his lips.
“Get in your car and follow me. If you called 911, an ambulance will be here soon and probably the police as well. I want you as far away as possible when that happens.”
“Dad, the school has security cameras,” she said, her voice trembling.
She breathed out in relief. Her father would handle it. He would protect her just as he’d always protected her. She turned and hurriedly slid back into the driver’s seat, ignoring her body’s protest. They likely only had minutes until medical personnel and the authorities converged on the parking lot.
There would be questions. She’d made the call to 911 and then left the scene. Most people would have remained, rendering aid or at least ensuring the safety of the victim until medical help arrived. And she’d have to answer for why she hadn’t done just that.
But she had absolute faith in her father. He’d never failed her.
She took off with a jerk as she hit the accelerator to follow her dad as he roared from the lot.
Her father set a determined pace through traffic and she realized they were heading home—one of the many places they called home—but the place they stayed mostly during the year when she taught and her father managed his business.
They zoomed through the security gate and it swiftly closed behind them. As soon as she pulled into the garage, her mother appeared in the doorway and she rushed over to open Ari’s door, her face a wreath of concern.
“Be careful, darling,” her father told her mother gently. “She’s hurt.”
Gavin Rochester put a reassuring hand on his wife’s shoulder before leaning in to help Ari from the car. This time Ari was more disciplined and didn’t let her discomfort show because her mother was already verging on panic and Ari didn’t want to add to her worry.
“There wasn’t time, Ginger. We have problems that needed to be addressed quickly. I’ve already put a call into Doctor Winstead and he’s on his way over. If he feels Ari needs to be hospitalized or that she’s seriously injured, we’ll do so discreetly in his outpatient clinic, where privacy and anonymity can be assured.”
Ginger wrapped her arm gently around her daughter and Ari could feel her shaking in fear and agitation. In turn, she wrapped her arm around her mother’s slender frame and hugged her as tightly as the discomfort in her ribs would allow.
“I’m okay, Mom. We have bigger problems than my injuries. I messed up.”
As she spoke, she glanced apologetically up to her father, regret for letting him down flooding her heart.
His expression immediately became fierce. He framed her face in his hands, turning her away from her mother, forcing her gaze to his.
“Don’t you ever apologize or feel you’ve let me or your mother down for doing whatever it takes to protect yourself. You could have died today, Ari. If you hadn’t done what you did, your mother and I would be planning your funeral right now. This is one time I thank God for your extraordinary abilities, and for the first time, I believe there is a genuine purpose—some higher reason—for your gift. Today that gift saved the life of someone very precious to me.”
“Now let’s get you inside,” he said, urging her carefully toward the door. “I have some phone calls to make and Doctor Winstead should be here soon. Let your mother fuss over you like she’s dying to do and don’t worry about this, baby. I promise you, I’ll take care of it.”
“I know you will, Dad,” she said in a low voice.
FIVE
ARI settled with a sigh into her bedroom her parents still kept for her, even though she had her own apartment—in one of the buildings her father owned, of course. It had been hard enough for her parents to let go, but her father’s tolerance only ran so far. He’d insisted she move into his building that housed upscale apartments not far from where she taught, because security was tight and he could be assured of her safety.
It wouldn’t at all surprise her if he had a full security detail also housed in the apartment building just to keep an eye on her.