I hugged my knees harder and kept my gaze on Tyler’s profile. His steady focus on getting us to land.
Thank all the pretty angels that he’d been the one to find me. To grab me before the Shithouse could. At whatever was coming next, I was safe in his hands. I knew that as well as I knew how to draw on a wingtip with a swipe of my fingers.
Tyler’s intervention had come right at the point where I had no more strength to run. There was no way I was fighting him. Even if I wanted to.
But I really needed to ask the question.
Land came into sight fast, and we cruised into a quiet dock. Tyler tied off the boat then stepped out and offered me a hand, one foot to the boards, keeping the vessel steady. Cautiously, I rose and put my fingers in his. Electricity danced between us. I stumbled.
He steadied my elbow. “You’re okay.”
A rush of emotion hit me.
I wasn’t okay. I hadn’t been in a long time. Not from months ago when I’d been brutally attacked and left for dead, and not weeks ago when a client tried to rape me. I was so far from okay it was a blurry dot on the horizon.
My chin wobbled, but I put my head down and let him lead me up the track to a car park, rain spattering us so we hustled. I didn’t need his guidance to find the right vehicle. Tyler drove a matte-black chunky SUV. Old enough that it didn’t stand out but with power under the bonnet for him to do his intercept job. I’d admired him in it many a time.
I knew it well enough to see that he’d switched the plates.
At the door, I finally got my voice back. I lifted my gaze to his eyes. Grey.Beautiful.
“You taking me back to Deadwater?”
I wanted it but at the same point couldn’t handle it. Not the questions or the faces.
Anything but having to give answers.
Splotches of raindrops dampened Tyler’s shoulders. He should have been freezing, but his rough fingertips on my arm were so warm. “No.”
Good enough for me. I climbed into his passenger seat and let Jesus take the wheel.
I must have nodded off the minute Tyler hit the heat. I’d slept badly for so long that the sense of safety he gave me knocked me out better than any drug could’ve.
When I woke, it was to him saying my name. I blinked my eyes open. The afternoon was darker. Our car stopped.
“Dixie,” he said again. “We’re here.”
I stepped out of the car and peeked up at the property we’d stopped beside.
A log-built home, single storey with a slate roof coming down low. Pretty. Thick woodland lay to one side, not a neighbour in sight, and a view on the other stretched out to rolling hills with a high point in dark-green and grey stone. I squinted at the landscape, trying to recognise where we were.
“Deadwater Ridge,” Tyler informed me with a head tilt to the summit.
I knew it. About an hour from the city. The peak marked the border of Scotland and England, just as the river that flowed through our city did the same further to the east.
From a storage box at the edge of the drive, Tyler collected shopping bags then gestured for me to follow. At the front door, he wrestled to get his keys from his pocket, so I took them from him, unlocking the door myself.
A good little kidnap victim, helping out.
I stepped into a cosy but spacious room. A stone fireplace, the scent of wood in the air, a deep and comfortable-looking brown leather sofa with a blanket across the back. No TV, though that was hardly a surprise.
I glanced back to find Tyler watching me.
“What?” I asked.
“Strange to see ye here.”
“At the place you brought me to?”
