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I tap at his cheek, staring down at him. “Hello, Titan?” I tap a little harder. “Please, wake up.”
He stirs, and I lift his head to rest it on my lap. “What happened?” he mumbles.
“One of Steele’s men came from behind and hit you.” He tries to sit up, but I stop him. “No, don’t move. I’m sure you have a concussion or something. Take a minute.”
“Did they hurt you?”
I smile, liking the way he’s worried about me, even though he’s the one who’s hurt. “No, I’m ok. They hit you and drove off.”
Titan lifts a muscular arm to rub the back of his head with his hand. “That’s weird. They did nothing else?”
“Nope.” I shake my head. “They just left.”
He tries once more to sit up, and this time I let him. “He must have had somewhere else more important to be.”
“I guess.” I move from beside him. “Do you want to stand?” He nods, and I help him to his feet, wrapping an arm around his waist until he finds his footing. “Let me use your phone to call an Uber. I’ll take you back to my place. I don’t live far from here.”
“My truck is around back,” he mumbles, swaying a bit and pulling his keys from his pocket.
Somehow, we make it to his massive truck without him toppling over and taking me down with him. Once he’s settled in the passenger seat, I shut the door and round the hood to the driver’s side and climb in.
“I’ll have you all better in no time.”
Under the interior light, I see he’s got a nasty gash that’s bleeding on the back of his head, and I start the engine to speed to my house.
“Thank you. But I feel fine.”
“You have a head injury.”
“I feel fine,” he gruffs out. “I’ve had worse injuries.”
“Big, strong man. I’m fine. Like caveman.” I make the caveman deep voice, and pound on my chest before I back out of the space and zoom away.
“Tarzan pounds on his chest, not cavemen,” Titan says as I make a right onto the street.
I shrug. “Same thing.”
“Um, not even a little bit the same thing.”
“Sure it is.” I glance over at him. “Tarzan was a simple man who didn’t know the way of the modern world. Just like cavemen.”
Titan rubs at his head as I zip through the empty roads. “But they existed at completely different times.”
I shrug again. “You say tomato.”
He laughs, rich and deep, and I really like the sound of it. “Whatever you say.”
I pull up to my one-bedroom house and park. “We’re here,” I say.
“What is that?” Titan asks, leaning forward, peering through the windshield.
“It’s my house.”
“Yeah, but I mean, what is that?”
I laugh a little at his reaction. “It’s a glass home. Ever heard of them? All the walls are made of glass.”
Titan shakes his head as he gets out of my car. “Nope, never have. What would possess someone to buy a glass house?”
“The views are spectacular.”
He looks over at me. “I’m sure it is.” The way he says it makes me think he doesn’t mean the view of the woods surrounding us. “Hope you didn’t spend too much on this, though.”
“You really shouldn’t throw stones at people who live in glass houses.”
“I think you got that saying backwards.” He grins, and I help him to my front door and inside.
“Does it really matter? Either way, the glass will break. Besides, they’re the same price as a regular house.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Titan stands in the living room, glancing around at the open floor plan surrounded by glass walls. “It’s got character, kind of like you. So, do I own this place now because I own you?”
“Ha-ha. Don’t get any ideas.” We still haven’t discussed the fact they sold me to him or that he spent a lot of money on me. Should I offer to pay him back? “Have a seat.”
Titan drops down on a lemon-yellow wingback chair and massages his temples. “My head is killing me. I’d like to see that fucker try that again. Normally, I’m sharp as a razor on my feet,” he glances up at me, “but I was preoccupied by your hips.”
“I’m sorry.” I pretend he didn’t just say he was watching my hips and move closer to his head, assessing the gash on the back with gentle fingers. It’s not as bad as I thought. Luckily, he won’t need stitches. “What do you do for a living?”
Titan inhales a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Retiring hitman.”
My fingers pause in his hair. “Oh, ok,” I say with a little laugh. I cross to the kitchen and snatch a clean towel from the drawer by the sink. “What do you really do?”
“I’m serious,” he says as I turn on the faucet, wetting the rag with warm water.
