Page 15 of Merciless King

“I…fell when he tried to grab me and we…” She swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet room. “We wrestled on the ground for a bit before I managed to get away and lock myself in the back room. It’s just a few bruises.”

I had to bite back the rage building inside me. No, this was definitely not some random robbery. The fucker had tried to hurt her. If this really was a copycat, some fucked-in-the-head Coombs disciple, London was in serious danger.

“Thanks for everything you did tonight,” she said. “I guess I froze earlier…then I heard your voice, and—well, I didn’t know who to trust, and then you…” She shook her head. “Anyway. Thanks for coming.”

She trusted me.

Jesus.

I was the last person she should trust.

If she had any idea what I wanted to do to her, she’d run a mile. My thoughts where she was concerned were far from innocent.

Still, my need to protect her shot even higher. She was scared out of her mind and trying to hide it. And yeah, the more I thought about it, the more I thought Daniels was right. Something about tonight had set off every one of my alarm bells. I wanted to question her further. I’d only heard the beginning of what she’d told him, what the fucker terrorizing her had said to her. I didn’t want to scare her more, but she wasn’t safe. Not here and not on her own.

“Baby, you look tired,” I said instead, forcing myself to keep my mouth shut and not ask all the questions flying around my head. I intended to get a copy of her statement tomorrow, though. “Why don’t you go to bed, get some sleep?”

“I am pretty tired.”

The pulse at the base of her throat was fluttering madly. There was no way she’d sleep if I left her. Which I wasn’t going to. Just the thought had my gut coiling, tightening with fear.

“Thanks again for helping me out.” She stared at me for several seconds. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime?”

“I’m not going,” I said.

London was so damn sweet. She was also fucking impossible to read. I had no idea what she was thinking right then, what was going on in her head, and I hated it. Hated knowing there were parts of her I would never see. Irrational, but true.

Again, my thoughts and feelings where this woman was concerned confused the hell out of me.

“You’re…not?” she said, brow scrunched.

“No.”

“But…um…”

“We’ll talk about what happens next in the morning.”

Her throat worked again, but she didn’t argue and that said it all. Even after sending her away when she came to me for help, after being a prick and not believing her, she’d rather have me here than be alone.

She dipped her chin, lowering her eyes, like she often did. Her hair was resting over her shoulder and I reached out before I could stop myself and touched it, sliding a thick wave of the silky strands between my fingers.

Her eyes shot up to mine.

“You can rest,” I said, voice like gravel. “You’re safe now. I’m not going anywhere.”

We stood there like that for several long seconds, with no one saying a thing. It was hard, but I finally let her hair slide free.

She turned away as soon as I did and rushed for her room.

And I got comfortable on the couch.

4

London

I stood at my bedroom door and listened to the dull thud of Van’s boots hitting the carpet as he walked around my living room. I squeezed my eyes closed. Yesterday hadn’t just been some awful nightmare, and Van was still here. In my apartment. After sleeping on my couch.

I tried to control my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I had to go out there, I had to face him this morning. Alone. Like try and talk in full sentences to the man, when talking to people was already hard for me. But Van wasn’t just people, he was the man who’d saved my life, the man who’d stayed until I had recovered. The man who had come to my rescue again yesterday.