I don't even ask him if he managed to call in my favor because I trust that he did. He's a good man.
"Mitch is on his way," I inform Darby. "How are you feeling?"
"Dazed."
He sounds it, and my body aches to be close to him.
To hold him in my arms.
To wipe the sweat off his forehead.
To help him get dressed, cleaned up.
To protect him.
I glance toward the front doors. Mitch hasn't shown up yet, but he'll be arriving any minute now.
"I'm going to get the override key from Mitch, and then I'm going to get you out of there myself. Is that okay?"
"That's perfect," Darby says, and I can hear him getting up.
After what he went through as a kid, I don't want me getting him out of there to bring up any more trauma than it has to.
Mitch is six-six, so it's hard to miss his massive frame when he appears at the entrance. I jog through the store and open the front door for him.
"Hey."
"Hey, buddy. Sorry I took so long." He moves like he wants to step in, but I block his path. His eyes narrow in suspicion. "What are you doing? Why are you standing in my way?"
Spoken like a man who's never had that happen to him before.
"This is going to sound very weird," I say, fast and low, palming his chest of steel and gently pushing him back onto the sidewalk. "But I need you to just give me the override key and leave."
"Is this a joke?"
"It's not, I swear. I'll explain everything later." I look down to his catcher’s mitts sized hands. "The key, please."
He hands it over, eyeing me with mild curiosity. "This is a chain of custody violation, you know. I could be fired for this."
"Stop using fancy security words. You've got nothing to worry about. You won't get fired. I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. I'll get the key back to you within the hour. Thanks and bye."
He shakes his head but leaves anyway.
"Oh," he says, turning around and taking a few paces toward me. "Here. I almost forgot."
He hands me the thing I asked for, and I arch a brow, impressed. "You got both. Excellent."
"Well, I did owe you one."
In an attempt to attract a younger, more diverse crowd, the store next to mine has been converted into a pop-up store, with the space being offered for free to up-and-coming emerging designers selling their wares.
Mitch has a major crush on one of the designers, Kalex, and begged me to come up with reasons to justify him showing up there. We've had more fire safety drills in the last three months than we've had the whole time I've been here.
I've played my part, he now needs to play his and stop getting so damn tongue-tied around the guy. It's funny in an adorable way, watching this hulking six-six guy getting so flustered in front of a guy who barely reaches his pecs.
"We're even now," I tell him. "I'll return the key in a bit."
"Yeah, yeah," he says with a wave, keying his radio and murmuring into his shoulder mic. Dude seriously needs to be working for the CIA, not guarding a measly building.
