I press the ice harder to my cheek, my temper simmering alongside my confusion.
Trevor took the effort to find me to deliver his message. A man wouldn’t go to those lengths if he didn’t have a reason.
Disappearing, moving over a thousand miles away didn’t stop my trouble. It was stupid to think it would, but I assumed out-of-sight, out-of-mind.
With a groan, I let my head fall back against the wall, knocking a note off that was taped there to remind me to use blue sprinkles, not green this week.
Probably won’t matter, since I’ll be losing the job.
I’m in the same spot when Ryker returns. His expression is even more grim when he walks through the kitchen doorway, but almost seems to ease when he sees me.
“How you doing?”
“Same.”
I don’t tell him that I’m now getting over the shock of what happened and settling into despair.
He leans a hip against the counter next to me, crossing two arms that are the size of my thighs. Watches me for a long moment, but it feels like he’s holding something back.
“What are you thinking?” I ask, because if there is one person I can’t read, it’s this man.
Or maybe it’s just all men, because I sure read Trevor wrong in the beginning too.
“I’d like to get the authorities involved,” he says in a way that I feel the pressure, but it’s not harsh. Almost like he’s trying to reason with the logical part of my brain.
“No. Don’t.” Inside of me there’s a visceral, instant reaction to the idea of involving any officials. “My father’s a cop.”
Oh crap.That last part is the thing I didn’t need to say. But I don’t know what the hell is wrong with my control.
Ryker’s head tilts as he works this added information over.
“Are you telling me he’s somehow involved in this?”
“Not directly. The one who assaulted me in the parking lot is my father’s friend.”
Shame makes me look down.
“You saw me flinch when you caught my wrist. My father’s an abuser and I have no intention of ever seeing him again. Reporting this will only draw attention that I don’t want.”
Ryker’s reply is instant and downright shocking. “Then you’re going with me.”
I’m sure I look stunned, because I’m pretty sure I heard him wrong. Only he looks completely committed.
“I can’t...” I breathe, choking a little.
He lifts a brow. Just one as the line of his mouth firms to stubborn on steroids.
“Where?” I ask when I admit to myself he’s not going to budge.
“My team is stationed up at a safe house. Unless you’ve got somewhere completely secure to go, then you’re with us. The men in that Mercedes weren’t tearing out of there, they had no remorse for what happened. That says they won’t hesitate to do it again.”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I look away. He’s right.
“But my job, it’s not much, but I need it,” I half-croak, fighting to hold myself together.
“It can wait.”
“No it can’t. I’m broke.”
