Page 29 of Protected from Torment

Once I’ve finished my story up to the point when I regained consciousness to find my attacker gone and my house trashed, Tyler just looks at me for a long moment. His handsome features turn pensive as he thinks. “So, you said this all started three weeks ago?”

I mentally count backwards. “Yes. Three weeks ago yesterday. That’s when I noticed the files were missing from my desk. And I’m certain I had them there. I wouldn’t have misplaced them.”

He rubs his stubbly jaw. And crap, I never thought I liked men with facial hair before, but there’s just something about how it looks on him. Kind of rugged and sexy.

Why am I thinking about how sexy he looks? I scold myself. This isn’t a date. And even if Tyler doesn’t think I’m crazy or lying, he’s not likely to be interested in someone like me.

“So it sounds like things have been escalating quickly,” Tyler observes. “And given everything else that’s happened, it’s not a stretch to think that the attack could be related.”

That’s something I haven’t let myself think about. “Do you really think so? I was hoping… maybe it was a mix-up. That he was on drugs, maybe he got the wrong address...”

“It’s possible. If it was an isolated event, it would be more likely. But—” he shakes his head. “I think we need to consider that it’s related.”

Tyler’s gaze shifts to the window, and his gaze grows distant. A few seconds later, he brings his attention back to me. “And what did the police say when you told them?”

My stomach knots. “I didn’t tell them.”

Tyler frowns. “Why not?”

After a heavy sigh, I explain, “Because I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me. With my history, I was worried they’d assume I was involved. That I’m some drug dealer trying to welch on my deal. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s assumed I’m up to no good because of what I did.”

A grimace twists his features. “People do that?”

I nod. “Sometimes. But I’ve been trying to keep a low profile ever since I moved here. Stay out of trouble. Not give people a reason to suspect me.”

Tyler goes quiet, thinking again.

“Well,” he finally says. “It’s clear to me that we need to look into this. Not just the man who attacked you, but the incidents at work, too. Once you’re out of the hospital, we’ll want to put you someplace secure. Someplace the attacker—” He stops. “I haven’t checked since I got off the plane. Did the police catch the guy?”

“Checked?”

He lowers his voice. “The police records. I checked them earlier, to see if they had anything on your attacker. But once I arrived in Albany, I was in a hurry to get here. So I didn’t take the time to look again.”

Before I can respond, he adds in that same conspiratorial tone, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about the records. I don’t think they’d be thrilled to know what I was doing.”

A spark of pleasure ignites inside me.

He’s sharing a secret that could get him in trouble. Which means he trusts me.

I wrap my fingers around his. “I won’t say anything.”

He smiles at me. “I know you won’t.” Then he continues, “So we’ll get you someplace safe. Then I’ll start investigating. Security cameras at your work, near your house, background checks into your coworkers⁠—”

Alarm replaces pleasure. “Tyler,” I interrupt. “I can’t pay you for all that. I have some money, but I know Blade and Arrow’s services are expensive. Maybe, if you would accept installments…”

“Mel.” Tyler shoots me an offended look. “I wouldn’t take your money.”

“But if you take me on as a client…”

“We don’t charge our clients. Not for stuff like this. And besides, you’re not a client. You’re a friend. I would never charge a friend for helping them.”

“What about your teammates, though?”

“They agree. Whatever you need, they’re on board with it.”

Oh.

I can’t deny being taken aback. It’s one thing, having Tyler agree to help me—which I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around—but for his teammates to be on board, too?