He stepped back, fingers unclenching, and Eastern swooped in to cuff the guy.
Lock dropped beside Callie, on the other side of Antwan. Her skin was too pale, and the fucking bruise on her head was already too dark.
He gently touched her chin, tilting her head up. He barely bit back the growl at the sight of her purple and red skin. He should have hit the asshole a third time. “What happened?”
“I don’t know where he came from. One minute I was on the phone with you, the next, he was shoving me against the door, saying that my friends killed his brother.”
Brother…? He looked up to see Eastern had already dragged the man to his patrol car.
Lucian’s brother, Oscar.
He looked back at Callie, forcing himself to stay calm as he studied her eyes, noticing there didn’t seem to be signs of a concussion. “You’re okay.”
It was like he needed to say it out loud to remind himself that it was true. That she was here. No one had taken her or seriously hurt her.
Her green eyes burned into him as she repeated, “I’m okay.”
CHAPTER 23
Callie studied the navy specks in Lock’s ocean-blue eyes as the chill from the bathroom counter seeped into her skin. She’d always loved his eyes. A light blue that darkened with different emotions. She swore she’d always been able to see his every mood…and right now, she saw anger. And pain. Maybe a bit of guilt.
She set a hand over his where he held the ice pack to her head. “Are you okay?”
“You’re the one who was attacked.” His voice was low, that anger in his eyes slipping into his voice.
“That doesn’t change my question.”
There was a beat of silence before he responded. “I just got you back.”
“You did.”
“I can’t lose you again.”
She tugged at his wrist, pulling the ice pack down. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“Someone was killed. Someone connected to you.”
“You’re right. It looks like my stalker murdered Lucian because of the way he treated me, which means if anyone shouldbe worried, it’smeaboutyou. If the person writing those notes wants me, you’re in his way.”
“I can take care of myself. And I wasn’t the one who got hurt today.”
“What happened today was a grief-stricken brother lashing out, not a stalker trying to get to me.” She reached up and traced the lines beside his eyes. “Do you remember the night we met?”
He blinked, looking confused at her change in topic. “You took my Biscoff ice cream.”
She pulled back, feigning shock. “No. Youtriedto takemine.”
They’d both reached for the tub at the same time. The last tub. She’d had a crappy day, and the thought of Biscoff ice cream had been the only thing that had gotten her through. She’d only been mad at the potential loss of the ice cream for a fraction of a second—because then she’d looked up and spotted the most gorgeous man she’d seen in her life and had almost forgotten about both the ice creamandthe crappy day.
His hands went to her hips, his fingers skirting below the material of her shirt. “I wanted Biscoff, and it was the last one.”
“I tried to convince you that coffee bean blast was just as good.”
His gaze shifted between her eyes, voice lowering. “I didn’t want coffee bean blast.”
“Neither did I. So we shared.”
Yep, she’d agreed to share with a stranger. Heck, she’d invited himback to her place. It was the most reckless thing she’d ever done.
