"No," I said immediately, surprising myself with the firmness in my voice. "No hospitals. Please."
Walker frowned. "Lottie, you're hurt. You need—"
"I can't afford it," I whispered, shame burning my cheeks. "I don’t have insurance. I’ll just—”
"Okay, I won't take you to the hospital," Walker said, his voice softening as he studied my face. "But I do know someone who can help. A doctor who works with us at Salvation. Will you let me take you somewhere safe so he can check you over?"
I hesitated, clutching Mr. Snuggles tighter against my chest. My face throbbed, and I could feel the tender swelling on my cheek. "Will it cost anything?"
"No," Walker said firmly. "Not a penny. I promise."
I nodded, too exhausted and shaken to argue further. Walker's arm came around me again, steady and strong as he guided me toward a black SUV parked half on the sidewalk, hazard lights still blinking.
"How did you find me?" I asked as he helped me into the passenger seat.
Walker secured my seatbelt before answering, his movements gentle but efficient. "I had a bad feeling when you said you had aride. So, I checked the cameras outside the club." He closed my door and walked around to the driver's side. "You got on the 42 bus. When I looked I discovered that route doesn't run all the way through after nine."
"You followed me?" I wasn't sure whether to feel disturbed or grateful.
"I tried to catch up to you before you got off," he said, starting the engine. "But the lights were against me, so I was about thirty seconds too late." His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry, Lottie."
"You saved me," I whispered, watching his profile in the dashboard lights. "How did you know how to fight like that?"
A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Military. Special forces."
That explained a lot about Walker—his watchfulness, his controlled movements, the way he'd neutralized three men without seeming to break a sweat.
We drove in silence for several minutes. I leaned my head against the cool window, trying not to think about what might have happened if Walker hadn't shown up when he did. My only nice dress was ruined, torn down the front in a way I couldn't hide. I clutched the edges of Walker's jacket closer around me.
"We're almost there," Walker said, turning onto what seemed like a private drive then through a barrier that lifted as soon as his car approached. "My place."
I looked at him in surprise. "Your house?"
"My doctor friend is meeting us there." He pulled into the driveway of a large house and I tried to swallow my nerves. Was I safe? Or had I been foolish coming here without questioning him.
The house was dark except for a porch light that flickered on as we approached—motion sensors, I realized. Walker helped me out of the car with the same careful movements, one hand at my elbow, the other hovering near my back without quite touching.
"Can you make it up the steps?" he asked.
I nodded, but my knees turned to jelly. Before I could collapse, Walker scooped me up, cradling me against his chest like I weighed nothing. I should have protested—I barely knew him—but I clung to him, hugging Mr. Snuffles tightly, his ears squished against my cheek.
“I…I’m okay,” I mumbled, voice so soft I nearly whispered, fingers kneading the bear’s scruffy nose.
Walker murmured, “I have you. You’re safe now,” his breath warm against my hair as he carried me up the porch steps.
A tall, lean man with salt-and-pepper hair got out of a car as we approached. His eyes swept over me with cool precision.
“Bring her in,” he said, following us. “I’m Dr. Atkins—Edward.”
Walker carried me through a sparsely furnished living room and gently set me on a butter-soft leather couch. I sank gratefully into the cushions, clutching Walker’s jacket around my shoulders and pressing Mr. Snuffles to my chest.
“What happened?” Dr. Atkins asked, placing a medical bag on the coffee table with a soft thud.
“Three drunks cornered her,” Walker said, voice low and tight. “Hit her, tore her clothes. I got there before it went further.”
Dr. Atkins nodded, then offered me a gentle smile that eased the sharp lines of his face. “I need to examine you, okay? Just to make sure there aren’t any hidden injuries.”
I blinked at the ripped hem of my dress, cheeks burning. “Um…my dress is torn,” I whispered, tugging at the fabric.
