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look. “Well hell, J.D., sounds to me like that’s exactly what you’ve done.”
    J.D. only smiled.
    Some things, he thought, people just needed a little help with.
    Just sometimes.

 
    CHAPTER 7
    Erin was on the verge of crying as she pulled into the parking lot of the small apartment complex where she lived. That was something she never did, especially when it came to a man. Regret was a dark, aching wound in her chest. The bitter, painful feeling refused to be pushed away. Realization hounded her, lashed at her emotions.
    She was falling in love with Turk. She’d been aware of it, and though she knew she should have fought it, still, that hunger for him, the need for something far more than physical, had grown inside her.
    Because she’d believed she had a chance at his heart.
    She’d fooled herself into thinking that if she hungered this deeply, then surely he did as well.
    Moving from the elevator and walking slowly to her apartment, she still marveled at how easily that hope had blown apart in her face. How quickly the need had lashed back to strike at a heart she hadn’t realized was so vulnerable.
    But that was no excuse for losing the wariness that had been ingrained inside her since she was a child and she and her mother had endured her father’s rages. In the years before J.D. had come into their lives, there had been very little security in it.
    It was no excuse for not being aware of the dangers she knew existed in the world though.
    It was no excuse for what came next. The second Erin pushed the key in the door of her apartment to unlock it, she knew she made a mistake.
    The door was already unlocked and someone was waiting on the other side.
    Dragged into the apartment, the force exerted on her arm was excruciating. She let out a scream worthy of a horror heroine.
    â€œBitch!” The furious hiss accompanied a hard blow to her head, dazing her for a second. But it didn’t hurt her lungs. And it seemed screaming could actually be instinct, because she kept screaming.
    Pain exploded through her head. Harsh fingers gripped her hair, jerking her head back forcefully a second before they tried to ram her face into the wall. Fighting, jerking against the hold, another cry left her lips as her shoulder took the impact instead, the sting not nearly as painful as a full-face kiss to the dry wall would have been.
    She was beginning to think no one was going to hear her. That her screams were being ignored or everyone was just gone. It wasn’t that late, surely someone could hear her screaming.
    The grip in her hair tightened as she reached back, her nails digging into skin as her assailant cursed and tried to ram her into the wall again. Turning quickly, the pain to her scalp enraging her, Erin kicked, scratched, her cries more guttural now than loud. She fought each attempt to disable her as she twisted, trying to claw at his face, knee him in the groin. She refused to stay still, refused to give in to the pain or allow the son of a bitch enough of a grip to actually succeed in quietening her.
    â€œErin!” The sound of her name being called, the voice harsh, power resonating in the voice, was followed by the heavy thump of something crashing into her door.
    â€œTurk!” Screaming out his name, powerless to stop the coming crash as she was thrown to the floor, Erin rolled with it instead.
    Coming against the wall as her door was kicked in, Turk’s large, powerful silhouette rushed the room. His entrance was followed by the sound of glass shattering.
    â€œOh, hell no.” Scrambling to her knees Erin turned, staring at the hole in her living room wall where a large, picturesque window now lay shattered.
    She couldn’t believe it. Wasn’t this just the perfect ending to this night?
    â€œThat was my window,” she whispered, shocked as Turk rushed past her, the weapon in his hand held ready as he braced himself against the side of the wall