Luke's Daughters. Lynnette Kent

Big help.”

      “We’ll work on it.” Luke stood up to his full height. “I’m going to take you to the hospital, Sarah, get a doctor to check you out.”

      Again she shook her head, panic replacing pain in her eyes. “I don’t think—” she whispered.

      “You’re safe with me.” He pulled his ID from his back pocket and opened it in front of her. “I should have explained—I’m a cop. My partner can go with us, if you’d feel better about it.” He nodded back toward Nick, who gave them a salute.

      She seemed to wilt. “No. That’s okay.” When he put his hand under her elbow she stood and took a shaky step, then stopped. “Thank you,” she said to Hank, still in that hushed voice.

      Flushing, Jordan waved her away. “No problem. You take care. We’ll get back to you if…when…we find something.”

      Luke opened doors and warded off obstacles as they worked their way slowly through the station. He could tell the effort it cost Sarah to make the trip by the sigh she gave as she relaxed onto the seat of his truck. Without asking, he pulled the seat belt over her and clicked the latch shut.

      She gave him a half smile as he got behind the wheel. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.”

      The angle of her head and the light from the parking lot revealed what he hadn’t seen before—ugly maroon finger marks on her throat.

      He couldn’t stifle a curse. “We’ll be there in a few minutes,” he said. Driving carefully, but fast, he flipped on the emergency flashers and accelerated into highway traffic.

      A couple of hours later, the ER doctor came to find him. “No broken bones, no major damage. Abrasions, contusions, a couple of lacerations. She’ll be sore for a while.”

      “He tried to strangle her.”

      “Yes.” The doctor shook her head in disgust. “The swelling will keep her voice out of commission for a few days. Don’t let her talk too much.”

      “Can you tell me anything else about the beating? Anything specific?”

      “Besides the fact that the guy who hit her is a bastard?”

      “Besides that.”

      The doctor cocked an eyebrow. “She’s lucky he didn’t kill her.”

      Luke found Sarah sitting on a cot in a cubicle toward the back of the emergency room, with her hands folded in her lap and bandages on the worst of her scrapes.

      “Hi,” she whispered. Her wide eyes were less focused than before, but the pain and panic in them had receded.

      “You’re not supposed to talk. Let’s get you out of here.” He helped her slide off the table, then braced her with his hands under her elbows as her knees buckled.

      She gasped and caught at his arms. “They…they gave me a pill. I guess I’m not too steady.”

      “No problem.” Luke put an arm around her waist. “I’ll take you home and make sure you’re settled.”

      Sarah tried to pull away, though she didn’t make much progress. “I can get a cab. Really.”

      “I don’t think so.” She looked prepared to argue, but Luke simply eased her toward the doors. “You don’t want to wait here another hour or two, do you? This isn’t New York—cabs don’t circulate in Myrtle Beach in the middle of the night.” Finally convinced, she leaned wearily against him. They stepped through the automatic doors into the cool summer dark.

      “All we need now is—” He thought a second and stopped.

      “My keys.” She closed her eyes. “But—”

      “He took them.” Her sigh confirmed his guess. “Do you have any friends in town? Somebody to stay with?”

      “No.” She seemed to lean more heavily against him at the word. Luke walked her to the truck.

      “And no credit cards for a hotel room?” he asked, as he buckled her in again.

      “Not anymore.”

      He shut the passenger door and rounded the truck bed, thinking hard. By the time he sat down, the decision was made. “Okay. I’m going to take you to my place for the night. We’ll get the rest sorted out in the morning.”

      She tried to sit up against the seat belt. “Mr….Officer Brennan…I don’t think—”

      His own throat ached to hear her rasping whisper.

      “Call me Luke.” Backing out of the parking space, he gave her a grin. “I’m going back to work. You’ll have the house to yourself. It’s the easiest solution.”

      He didn’t mention the other benefits—the fact that no one would look for her at his place. And that whoever had her keys could be inside her home by now.

      Maybe he didn’t need to—she suddenly stopped fighting. “Okay.” The next time Luke glanced over, she was asleep.

      Once parked in his own driveway, he left Sarah in the car while he went to unlock the kitchen door. Then he lifted her gently and carried her into the house. In the dining room he hesitated—where should he put her down?

      The lumpy couch in the spare room, surrounded by piles of magazines? Erin and Jen’s room, which usually looked as though a hurricane had hit? Or…

      Luke maneuvered carefully through the doorway to his bedroom. He’d changed the sheets this morning and neatened up. Sarah would have enough aches to deal with tomorrow. Why not give her the best rest possible?

      He lowered her to the side of the bed he didn’t use and covered her with a blanket. Leaving an old football jersey nearby, with a note inviting her to help herself to anything in the house, he moved to the door, then stood for a second watching Sarah…Sarah who?…sleep.

      She looked peaceful in the low light, almost happy. Her mouth had softened into a smile that even the bruises couldn’t dim. After a night of horror, she’d fallen into sleep as easily as a child could.

      But reaction would set in—Luke had no doubt of that. He’d seen victims fall apart immediately, and he’d seen them hold back until they had privacy. He figured Sarah would want to be alone when she struggled with her personal tremors.

      God knew, he always had.

      That thought led him to Kristin, on her honeymoon with Matt. To Jen and Erin, at Disney World with their mother and their new dad. To a family that had once been his and now belonged to another man. His brother. Forever.

      The house closed in on him, airless, lightless. Breathing hard, Luke fumbled his way toward the door, fighting the need to howl. He had to get out. Get back to work, back to a reality he could handle. Back to the outside world, filled though it might be with threats and violence and agony.

      At least there he didn’t stand face-to-face with the total, wretched emptiness that constituted the rest of his life.

      WHEN HE CAME HOME at 7:00 a.m., the only sign of Sarah’s presence was a glass standing on the counter by the kitchen sink. But he could hear water running in the back bathroom. Good for her—she must be a strong woman, to be getting back on track so soon.

      As he walked by the desk in the corner of the dining room, he caught the blink of the answering machine light. “You have one new message,” the tinny recording announced.

      “Hi, Luke.” The soft Southern accent needed no introduction. “It’s Kristin.”

      A vise gripped his gut and twisted. He braced his arms on the desktop.

      “The girls wanted to call and tell you what’s going on.”

      “Hi, Daddy! It’s me!” Erin’s husky voice was as unique as the girl herself. “We went to Sea World yesterday and it was so cool. They have this tunnel under the