Page 36 of Unlocked

Her anger had carried her this far, but now she was worried. Not that she thought someone was in there, because logically they'd already trashed the place. Why would they come back? Even if they hadn't found what they were looking for, they had to assume from the damage they'd done that it wasn't there in the first place. They didn't know about her safe room. Obviously. If they had, she'd be dead.

That thought gave her pause.

Still. She was okay. That hadn't happened. And now all of her information was in there. She wanted to work. She needed to work. Not to mention, the damage done was not going to clean itself.

She squared her shoulders, unlocked the door, braced herself, and walked inside.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

Everything was just as she'd left it before the gala. The kitchen, the living room, all of it. Exactly as it had been before it was destroyed. As if the destruction had never happened at all.

She kicked off her shoes and walked into the living room.

The carpets had been cleaned. The ruined furniture had been replaced. Even her pictures that had been smashed to pieces were rehung on the walls, frames whole again. She went down the hallway toward the bedroom.

Again, the typical orderliness of her private space had been restored to exactly as she'd had it. Her books were back on the shelf, and she could tell by the spines of some that they'd simply been replaced outright. The whole room was exactly as it had been before she’d left for the gala. Nothing out of place. No dirt. Nothing. If anything, it was cleaner.

She went into her closet. Every piece of clothing had been hung up. Some items still had tags, new pieces to replace what had been destroyed.

Whose idea was this? Archer. He’d said Ryker was going to take care of it, but she'd had no idea the extent of what they'd discussed. This was extraordinary.

Standing in her closet, relief washed over her, followed immediately by remorse. Archer had just been trying to take care of her, and she'd snarled at him and willfully gone against his wishes. Not that she was beholden to his wishes, but damn, the man had her best interests at heart. He'd made sure all of this happened. Ryker might have done the work, but it was Archer who put it together. Archer had directed him to make it happen. Archer, who knew exactly how hard this was going to be for her and had done everything he could to lessen the stress.

She blinked back tears she hadn't expected.

Nobody had ever put this much effort into taking care of her. Not anyone. Certainly not her parents. None of the men she'd ever dated, that was for sure. She wasn't even dating Archer, although she just might after this.

That thought hit her like a physical thing, warm and unsettling all at once.

And then, because apparently her brain had decided she hadn't suffered enough this morning, an image arrived uninvited. Archer. Those rolled-up sleeves she'd noticed earlier. Except this time, they were coming off. The button-down shirt sliding from his shoulders, revealing all that lean muscle and scarred skin she'd only glimpsed. His hands, rough and capable, reaching for her.

Heat flooded her face.

Jesus, Tatum. Get it together.

But she couldn't shake it. The way he moved. The way he looked at her, like she mattered, like he'd burn the world down to keep her safe.

That path of thinking was dangerous.

More dangerous than whoever had trashed her apartment. Because wanting Archer Gray meant letting him in. Trusting him. And trust was the one thing she couldn't afford to indulge in right now.

She took a shaky breath and turned away from the closet, trying to focus on anything else. His words came back to her. He was protecting her because she was a board member. That was it. Plain and simple. He needed her vote to keep Austin Davis in check. That's what this was about.

Frankly, it stung to think it. But it was fair. And it helped restore balance to her perspective.

She went back into the kitchen, made herself a coffee, noting that even the ground coffee had been replaced with a superior brand. Once it was brewed, she headed into her private room. She sat down in her chair and started reviewing her notes.

Two hours later, she looked up. Her coffee was cold, and so was she. She needed a sweater. The AC was cranked higher than she normally kept it, probably because they'd touched up some of the walls. A faint smell of fresh paint lingered in the air.

She left her room and went out to the kitchen.

"Tatum."

Screaming, she jumped and dropped her mug on the floor.

"Josh, what the hell are you doing in my apartment?" she growled.

Archer had known she was going to run the moment she’d agreed to stay put.