Drake Sisters 05 - Safe Harbor

and this time he didn't bother knocking. The hell with it. He began working on the lock. Joley came up behind him with Sarah.
    "You have to leave her alone, Jonas. It was too much for her, facing Prakenskii like that," Sarah said. "She needs to rest."
    "And you need to mind your own business. Hannah's a grown woman. She's my woman." He made the declaration as he freed the lock, opened the door and stepped in, closing it on Sarah's furious face.
    Hannah was pulling clothes from her dresser, tears streaming down her face as she stuffed them into the small sports bag she had open on the bed. He could see the fatigue and the dark circles around her eyes. His heart twisted in spite of his anger.
    Hannah was a woman of such contrasts. She appeared fragile and delicate, yet had a core of steel. She had panic attacks, yet courageously defended her sisters. She was shy, but made herself into a public icon.
    He would never, as long as he lived, get over seeing her come into the room, head up, her face slashed deep and raw, but her eyes steady as she faced Prakenskii with such regal dignity. He knew it cost her pride. He knew she didn't want to be seen. But she had stood up to all of them and insisted on being treated as an adult. He had never been prouder of her. Yet here he was, about to chew her out. Again. He sighed.
    She looked up, her wet eyelashes spiky, nearly breaking his heart. Her hand went defensively to her throat—where three deliberate slashes had been made, damaging her vocal cords for all time. He wanted to gather her into his arms and hold her close.
    "Get out," she said. "You have to get out and leave me alone."
    Fury swept through him. So much for good intentions. He slammed the door closed again, this time against Joley as she attempted to enter, and turned the lock, crossing the room in three swift strides.
    "What the hell did you think you were doing, Hannah?" Jonas caught her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. "Do you like playing with fire? I told you to stay away from Rudy Venturi. He may seem harmless, but he's living a fantasy and you don't know what could happen if his fantasy is disrupted."
    "Jonas!" Sarah protested, from the other side of the door. "What are you doing?"
    "I'm going to beat her, that's what I'm doing," Jonas snapped. "Why can't you, just once, go along with something I say, Hannah? That man is loony tunes and you're bringing him a signed photograph personally ! I know what I'm talking about when I tell you about security, but no, you just have to defy me." His eyes darkened, blazed down at her upturned face as he gave her another shake, anger sweeping through him, building and building as the images of a knife slashing at her while he was thousands of miles away played in his head. "You do whatever everyone else tells you like some damned puppet, but me, you have to argue and defy me at every turn. Even if you're taking a chance with your life."
    "Stop it, Jonas," Joley called, pounding on the door. "Stop it. You sound like you're going to hurt her."
    "I'd never hurt her," Jonas declared, abruptly letting Hannah go. "Get the hell away from here, Joley. You, too, Sarah. This is between Hannah and me."
    "I'm fine, Joley," Hannah assured her. "Leave us."
    "Are you sure, Hannah?" Sarah asked. "You don't have to put up with him yelling at you."
    "I don't interfere between you and Damon, Sarah," Jonas hissed. "Do us the same courtesy. Go away." He shoved both hands through his hair, waiting to hear the fading footsteps before he glared at Hannah. "Damn it. Why would you risk your safety like that?"
    He stepped back away from her, his hands shaking as he paced across the room. His chest heaved as he tried to draw in air, as he tried to push away the images crowding in. There had been so much blood. Her long hair had been everywhere, but instead of platinum and gold, the spiral curls had been red. He could barely breathe and he actually staggered, reaching out blindly for anything to anchor him.
    Hannah caught his arm. "Sit down, Jonas. You haven't slept in days."
    "Weeks," he corrected and sank into the large chair by her fireplace. He wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face against her stomach. His arms tightened, two steel bands, locking her to him, holding her as close as he could get her. A shudder went through his body. "Damn it, Hannah. You're killing me."
    Hannah's fingers tunneled in his hair, made small soothing circles against his scalp in an effort to