Written in Ink (Montgomery Ink #4)(50)

It wasn’t fair to let Griffin do that now.

He set her on the couch so carefully that she almost cried again.

“Lo-ck…lock your doors.” She couldn’t get the words out the first time. As it was, she was barely holding it in. Tears still fell from her eyes, but she wasn’t sobbing uncontrollably. Yet.

That would come unless she got a handle on her emotions.

Griffin cupped her face and forced her gaze to his. “I’ll do that, Fall. Anything else you need?”

She tried to open her mouth to say something, but she didn’t know what it was. Instead, she swallowed again and let him release her. She would not feel sad at the loss of his touch. Griffin locked the door, slid the deadbolt in, and hooked up the chain. He lived in a safe neighborhood but seemed to have more security than her.

When he clicked a few buttons and the security system she didn’t know he had beeped, she almost wept harder.

“You’re safe in here, Autumn,” Griffin said when he walked closer. “Give me a minute. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

She nodded, her eyes on the locked front door. There were more entries into the home, but she could feel safe at least for the moment. Right? No. She couldn’t think like that. She needed to drive away and keep Griffin safe. He was more important than her. She couldn’t let another person get hurt because of her.

Griffin was back before she could figure out what her next step was. He had a cup of coffee in one hand and a tumbler of amber liquid in the other. He also had a first aid kit tucked under one arm and a bottle of water under the other.

If she hadn’t been crying already, she’d have started then.

This man…this man.

“I just made this pot,” he said as he handed her the cup. “Though you look wired enough that maybe coffee isn’t the best idea. So I have whiskey, too.” She frowned. “Good whiskey. I can even add said whiskey to the coffee if that helps.”

He sat on the coffee table in front of her and sighed. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

“I…I could use the whiskey,” she whispered, her voice oddly hoarse. “But I can’t drive after I do.”

He met her gaze, his eyes pleading. “Don’t drive anywhere. Not tonight.” He set the whiskey down next to him along with everything else. “Please.”

She licked her lips, winced when her tongue hit the cut.

“Please,” he repeated.

“Okay,” she whispered.

He let out a sigh then added the whiskey to her coffee—not all of it, but enough to sooth her nerves. He slammed back the rest of it before setting the tumbler down on the table.

“Let me take care of your lip,” he said softly.

“I…there’s nothing you can do.”

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.” She knew they weren’t talking about her lip just then.

She let him wipe down her cut and clean it. It was already healing and had stopped bleeding, but it still hurt if she touched it.

“You bit your lip, Autumn,” he said, his voice smooth, overly controlled. “Can you tell me why? Can you tell me why you’re as white as a sheet and shaking?”

“I can’t,” her voice broke and she took another sip of her whiskey-laced coffee, careful of her lip.

“You can, Autumn,” he said, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “You can tell me anything.”

He took the mug from her hands and cupped her face. She held back a sob.

“Autumn. Tell me. Please.”

Her body shook and her heart raced. She’d kept everything inside for so long, never allowing another to know her thoughts, to know her feelings. No one knew her past. If they did, they could be hurt…but what if she didn’t hold it in any longer.

What if she told him?

Griffin’s eyes stayed on her, his face begging her as much as his words.

She didn’t know what she’d say, what she’d do, and when she opened her mouth, the word she uttered surprised her. It shocked Griffin too from the way his eyes widened.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated on a breath. “Okay. Tell me.”

She swallowed hard and pulled away from his hands. He frowned, but she took his hands in hers instead. She couldn’t speak when he cupped her face.

“My name isn’t Autumn Minor.”

His eyes widened, but he nodded. “Okay.”

God this man was so strong, so…ready to listen. She had to be ready to say it all. Reveal her truths, reveal her past.

She could do this.

“My name is Hannah Daniels.” He didn’t interrupt her, and she gained the courage to continue. “I…didn’t exactly go about it legally when it came to changing my name.” She paused.

“We can deal with that. If you’re running from something that forced you to change your name, then we can deal with that.”

“I hate the word running,” she said softly. “I feel like I’ve been running all my life.”

“Autumn…”

She let out a breath. He still called her Autumn, not Hannah. She liked that. She was his Autumn…if only for the moment.

“I have a brother and two parents. They loved me…they might still love me, but as I haven’t spoken to them in ten years, I don’t know. I left home at eighteen and never turned back. I couldn’t.”