
So she lives out of a suitcase, and ironically enough, volunteers at a women’s shelter. Yet she lives in motels, under assumed names, using the money she’s taken from George’s accounts. That infuriates him more than anything, she knows…well, more than anything except that his prize, his arm decoration, has left him, making him look bad in the eyes of his fellow richies.
Finally, Sherri is fed up with moving from motel to motel. She knows of a place being rented by the owner of the women’s shelter where she works, also under an assumed name, since she only volunteers. Should she go there? Should she tell the man why she works for him?
She decides to take a leap of faith, and prays her luck is about to change, for the better.
<> John - a fireman who once rescued Sherri from a burning building, when her husband tried to kill her - thinks he meets Sherri for the first time when she steps out of the cab in front of his home. He doesn’t remember her name and hadn’t seen her face well when he’d saved her, so he doesn’t recall meeting her. He thinks her beautiful…and he feels her fear. He’s seen it countless times at his shelter. This woman needs him, needs his help, and he’s not about to turn her away.He wants more than to help her though, but he suspects she’ll take a long time in coming around to trust him, or any other man, if his guess is correct. He soon finds out he’s right, when she breaks down and tells him her story and asks for refuge in his above-garage apartment, which many of the past women of his facility refer to as the Safe Haven.
Can Sherri learn to trust, and love again. Can John let go of the guilt driving at him, guilt over the loss of another woman in quite the same predicament as Sherri – Amy: his lost love, who was murdered while John was away, working, by her ex husband, who’d always sworn he find and kill her, and he had.
Sherri
must be dreaming.
John’s
hands caressed her as she slept, awakening desire, causing her to stir,
and
reach for him. She put her hands around his neck, wishing she didn’t
have to
leave him, kissing him back, arching towards him…
Then
she realized she was awake. She wasn’t dreaming. He was here, in bed
with her,
but Sherri was confused. Had John come home in the middle of the night?
Would
the doctors have released him early?
There
was something else odd, too. John was different somehow, rougher,
stiffer,
grabbing at her, pawing at her, almost painfully…
Oh,
God. George.