April's eyes went wide. "You weren't there. You don't know. She was antagonizing them. Spitting in their face, calling them names, she was hardly a benefit."
DI Spencer gave Livy another once over. "Well done then. You managed to escape. Did anyone look familiar? Do you know them from somewhere?"
It was the only moment Livy hesitated. "The one with the burn on his hand. I'm doing a research book for my mother. She passed away recently. The book was about the disappearance of Caroline Ritter. She was a diplomat. The man with the burn was in a couple of her photos.”
DI Jones nodded at Liv. “You’re very brave. We’ll need to talk to you again. Where can we reach you?”
I was already on it. I pulled a card out of my wallet and handed it over. “You can reach her here for questions.”
“Thank you. Miss Ashong, you’re very brave and very lucky. Tonight could have turned out very differently. But thanks to your quick thinking, it didn’t. I don’t want you to worry though. We will find your assailants. We just need to know why you were taken in the first place.”
Livy’s gaze met mine and spoke volumes. She didn't give away anything to do with London Lords or the Elite, but her gaze said it all. This might not have anything to do with the Lords at all, but rather to do with her mother's book, which led us to a whole new set of questions that I didn't have answers for right at that moment. All I wanted to do was grab her in my arms and never let go.
"If we're done here, Detective Inspectors, she just had a long day. For anything else, you can come to us at Covington House in Belgravia after she’s had some rest." They exchanged another glance, but they nodded and put away their notebooks. "Sir, I do suggest you get her medical attention. That lip is going to swell at the very least."
I glanced at her. "Yes, I'll have a doctor look at her tonight."
"You know, I can hear you." she protested. "But this time, I agree. I think a doctor is a good idea. I think I need stitches."
April moaned from the chair. "She needs stitches; I need stitches. Do you know how they abused me? It was inhumane—"
I turned my back to her self-pitying act. "Let's get you looked at. I want to make sure nothing else happens to you. Do you understand me?"
"I don't think you can stop it, Ben. I had the protection of our whole team, and still, someone got to me."
It chafed to know that she was right. Someone had taken her right from under my nose. But I still had to try and figure out a way to make sure that never happened again.
Livy
Once we were able to leave the penthouse, Ben wasted no time and scooped me up like I was a child without a word. A doctor had been called for April to deal with her concussion. Ben told me one was coming to the house for me.
I got to have no opinion, no thoughts about where we were going or what we were going to do. I assumed he would take me home, but it wasn’t like he said anything.
The ride from the elevator down to the car was a quiet one, although everyone stared. I was clearly a mess. Blood on my torn clothes. My face was a mess, and my hair was worse. And Ben, wearing black jeans and black sweater, with his slightly too long blond hair and ice-blue eyes, easily carried me out of the hotel as if this happened every damn day.
All I got were one-word answers from him as he eased me onto the passenger seat of the car that was waiting for us at the valet area. But this time, there was no driver. He drove us to the house, and once again, the whole drive from Soho to Belgravia was tense, quiet. Traffic was light, but he said not a single word. He didn't take a phone call. He didn't even put on the radio. I had no choice but to sit there, letting my mind wander. But I was too afraid to let it wander too deep. How much of the ordeal was going to come bubbling back up to the surface if I let it? So I didn't dare close my eyes.
When we reached the house, for some reason it felt like I was seeing it for the first time. Maybe because I’d wondered if I would ever see it again. If there would ever be a moment when I’d walk through those doors again and marvel at the unassuming contemporary design, knowing full well that instead of one stately townhouse, Covington House was actually two done together and going three floors deep below the surface. Why? Because everyone needed a gym, a sauna, and a pool. And of course, a movie theater. Not to mention the multitude of rooms on the first, second, and third floors. There was more to the house than I could ever figure out. And somehow this place felt more like home to me than anywhere in the world ever had.
When we parked, Scott came out of the side door to take the keys from him and he shook his head. He wouldn't even let Matthew open the door for me. "I have it."
Those three words... those were the only words he'd spoken since we’d left East’s penthouse.
When he opened the door, I tried to step out, but he prevented me and instead scooped me up. He carried me through the side door, past the mudroom and the offices into the great room. "I would take you to the bedroom first, but a doctor needs to check you out. Where do you think you'd be most comfortable?"
"The bedroom would be great. I would love to clean up and get a bath."
He winced. "I know, but I'm not sure if it's safe."
I frowned. "What do you mean, safe?"
"You might have internal bleeding."
I laughed. "I'm fine. Sure, they got a couple of hits on me, but I wasn't impaled. You should see the other guy."
His lips quirked, and that was the most emotion I'd seen from him in nearly an hour. "Ben, do you think—"
The doorbell rang, and he jogged to answer it, quickly checking the security cameras on the way. When he returned, a middle-aged man followed him. Dark hair, kind eyes, around five-ten. When he smiled though, he definitely became more handsome. I could see how he might be one of Ben's gorgeous friends. Ben introduced him. "This is Dr. Callahan. He's going to check you out."
"Honestly, Ben, I just need a few stitches."
"No, give me some sanity. Please let him do his job."
For the minor intrusion into an otherwise extremely long day, Dr. Callahan was kind, efficient, and patient with me. But still, he worked to get me as cleaned up as he could with antiseptic, had sure fingers to sew up the gashes, and then gave me butterfly clips for the smaller cuts. When he was done, he stepped back and admired his work, then gave me a nod. "None of it looks really pretty right now, but I promise you, you are lucky there is no major damage to your face. We'll put a cold compress on that eye and that cheekbone. No broken bones. So, no worries."
I nodded slowly. "Right. I sure feel damn lucky."
"I know. If you do need someone to talk to, you can call one of the therapists on my team."
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
Once Ben was sure I would live through the night, he showed Dr. Callahan out. When he returned, his hands were tucked in his pockets and he rocked back on his heels. "It's probably safe for you to try a shower now. I just wanted to be sure."
I gave him a nod and pushed up out of the seat, nearly stumbling as I tried to keep from pitching forward. God, I was tired. Just plain exhausted.
Ben rushed toward me. "Let me help you."