"I'm going to get you somewhere safe. We're going to clean you up, and then we're going to text Tabs. That's her name?"
I nodded. “Tabatha.”
"Good, then we'll text her and tell her where you are, okay?"
I shifted on my feet. This was not the plan. Then again, getting jumped in an alley outside the club was not the plan, and Tabs was having fun. And all my instincts told me Lock was not like that bloke, so I nodded. "Where are we going?"
"I live not far from here."
"Oh, of course, your place."
He released me briefly to pull out his wallet and then he pulled out his license. "Here you go. Text Tabatha now. Tell her you're with me, yeah? That way she’ll know where you are and you’ll feel a little safer."
I lifted my gaze and studied him. "You really are a good bloke, yeah?"
He shrugged. "Well, that’s debatable, but right now I'm trying to get you taken care of."
"You know I can take care of myself, right?"
He laughed. "Yes, you have rendered me useless in defending you. But please allow me to be of some service. My ego can only takes so much."
I had to laugh at that. "Fine.” I took a photo of his license and sent it to Tabs.
Saff: I’ll explain later. I’m fine.
And then I handed him back his ID.
"Excellent. Now, can you walk?"
I frowned at him. "Of course, I can walk.” That was the truth. Mostly the truth, because I hadn't exactly accounted for the adrenaline flooding my veins. I took a step forward, and in the heels I may have wobbled slightly.
Lock's firm hands wrapped around my upper arms again. "That's what I thought."
And then the giant oaf bent down, picked me up, and the threw me over his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.
“You’re coming with me,”
Chapter Seven
Saffron
"So, is this the serial killer den?"
Lock laughed as he eased me down just outside his door so he could pull out his keys. He slid the heavy steel door on its track and then stepped aside. "Ladies first. Or can you not walk?"
I shook my head. "I can walk. You didn't have to carry me all the way here."
"It's only three streets over."
"You know what I mean."
I liked his loft. It fit him somehow. I barely knew this bloke, but I knew that his place somehow fit. The trim was a mix of wood and steel, some chrome, but there were eclectic pieces of art from what looked like all over the world. A mismatch of paintings and artwork on every surface. A couch that looked comfortable and lived in.
"I like your place."
He gave me a nod. "It was mine and my brother's for when we were in the city or stopping through. But it’s mine now."
I frowned at his word choice. "You said it was yours and your brother's."
He licked his bottom lip. "He died. Five years ago."
I winced. "Shit, I'm so sorry."
"It's all right. I guess. That's supposedly the right response you're supposed to give people. I miss him every day."
"It must have been a special relationship for you guys to be able to share a place together."
He shrugged. "Yeah. Charlie was the best."
"Lachlan and Charlie?"
He shook his head laughing. "Lachlan and Charleston. If you can imagine that."
"Oh my God, your parents."
"Oh yes, just as pretentious as you would believe they would be." He indicated the bathroom. "Just through there. I'll grab the first aid kit and meet you there."
"You don't have to do all this. I'm fine."
"You keep saying that. I’ll determine if you’re okay. Did you hear from your mate?"
"I love that you know Tabs already. She texted back. She said she will sever you from your balls if you hurt me."
"Of that, I have little doubt."
His bathroom was the sort of thing you saw in Architectural Digest. Clean and modern. But instead of the proverbial white that was the style of all modern bathrooms these days, it was all black and grays, and the effect was gorgeous. He had one of those sauna steam showers, and all I wanted to do was jump in.
The floor was that wood looking tile, ceramic, I think. It was beautiful. The backsplash was all shimmering browns and golds with a really ornate enormous mirror. When he joined me, he indicated the chair at the vanity. "Take a seat."
"This is ridiculous. I'm fine."
He also had a T-shirt he offered. "Something to change into. You probably got some blood on yours."
I glanced down at my top which was mostly a shimmering metallic panel on the front and some strings. The top was entirely backless, and once I let go, my breasts would be screaming for freedom. The top was free of blood, but it would be nice to cover up a little more. I was too exposed.
"Thank you."
"All right, let's see about this." He grabbed the alcohol and the iodine and made a quick work of starting to clean me up.
I hissed and jerked back when the alcohol touched my skin. "Ow."
"Sorry. No one told you to be a badass today."
"I'm basically a badass every day."
His smile was soft. "I don't doubt it. Your mate said that you were celebrating tonight. What were you celebrating?"
I gave him a sheepish smile. "It's my birthday."
"No shit. Well this is bad. I didn't even get to wish you a happy birthday properly. You need cake."
"No, I don't."
"My mum always said a birthday is not a birthday without a cake. I think we can get some ordered."
I shook my head. "That's really un—"
He already had his phone out and was texting. "The cake will be here in ten minutes. There's a bakery down the way. They're on one of my food service apps."
"Well, isn't that convenient?"
"They're certainly handy. You didn't want to celebrate with your family?"
It was my turn to go somber. "My parents died two years ago."
He cursed under his breath as he put the remnants of the gauze and bandages away. "Fuck."
"Yeah, fuck."
"What happened?"
I chose the cover story. “Plane crash.”
He winced. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
I left out the part about how there had been a bomb on that plane specifically designed to kill them and only them. The madman had figured out who they were and took them from me deliberately. Intentionally.
I also left out the part about having full intentions of finding that madman one day and annihilating him off the face of the earth. Those were the kinds of things you didn't say to a stranger.
"Did they do anything for your birthday when you were little?"
I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, there were two things we always did. Dad always made sure that for my birthday, he would teach me a new skill. Something he expected me to master by my next birthday. Sometimes there was a puzzle. Sometimes it was a martial arts thing. Sometimes it was learning to play a really complicated song. He always said an Abott should be multitalented. He was the best. And Mum she always shared a journal entry she’d written for me when I was a baby. Sometimes they were silly, sometimes they were poignant. But we’d snuggle in bed first thing in the morning and she’d read it to me. I guess she started it when she was pregnant with me."