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The emergency exit opened, and Riley ducked out, pulling her cardigan tight around her shoulders. Her hair was tangled, and she shoved it off her face, revealing blood on her lip.

Darkness rushed through Saint’s veins. Fuck.

“Hey,” he called, voice soft.

She looked up at him, and he didn’t recognize the blank expression. Her eyes were glassy and flat, and the line of blood on her lip stuck out against her pale skin.

A sob escaped before she clamped her hand over her mouth.

He stopped himself from sweeping her into his arms. “Where else are you hurt?”

She shook her head, hair pooling around her shoulders, obscuring her face.

Saint watched carefully. Riley’s lip was cut, but she was breathing well enough. Her eyes were vacant but tracked his face.

“It’s okay. I’m fine,” she said, but her lip started to tremble and she swiped her hand across her face, smearing the red. “I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he said, careful to match her quiet tone. “You’ve done well, you got yourself safe.” He’d get her the rest of the way.

She didn’t respond, brushing dust off her pant leg.

“We’re going to go now.” Saint held out his hand, and she immediately took it, her hand icy. She stopped.

“My bag… it’s still at my desk.”

“Do you need it?”

Riley shook her head, her hand clamped his tightly. “Just… my keys are in there.”

Security risk. “I’ll go get them.”

“No.” She shook her head hard, the wet wind blowing her hair into his face. Raindrops started to fall. “No.”

He ground his teeth. He’d get whatever she needed from her apartment, and she would stay with him.

Saint opened the passenger-side door and stepped back as she got in, wincing when she pulled on the handle. She said she was fine.

He was starting to hate that word.

He shrugged out of his jacket, tucked it around her, and ignored the murmured refusal.

She was shivering and in shock.

She flinched when he touched her shoulder.

“It’s just bruised. I want to go home.”

He ignored the lurch in his chest and walked around the truck to the driver’s side. No one looked twice at them as he pulled the truck out and into traffic.

It was safer that way.

Chapter 28

Riley

Riley leaned her head back on the leather sofa and stared at the loft ceiling.

“Can I look at you?” Saint moved silently. She nodded, and he settled onto the coffee table, putting a small first aid kit next to him.