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"You put yourself there. Go back to England and forget about your petty revenge plot."
I bite my bottom lip as the other man, Holden, glowers at Thane with all the heat of a furnace in Hell. Why does this man despise Thane with such passion? He speaks with a British accent, so I assume he lives in England. He must hold a huge amount of hatred inside himself if he traveled all this way just to harass Thane.
The Brit abruptly veers his attention to me---and smiles with all the wicked glee of a bad, bad man. "Well, who are you, pet? Thane's new bit of stuff, eh? He used to shag shedloads of girls, don't you know? That was his only talent. All that geospatial rubbish was a cover."
"Shut your bloody mouth, Holden," Thane snarls. "Or I will shut it for you, permanently."
"Oh, I'm so fucking scared of you. The computer geek who became a---"
Thane launches himself at Holden, clamping his hands around the man's throat and shaking him violently. "Everything ye just said violates the Official Secrets Act. Ahm taking ye to the police station."
"Don't think so, mate."
Holden slams his knee up into Thane's groin. Thane grunts and stumbles backward, losing his grip on the Brit who spins around to launch himself at me.
I ram my knee into his groin. The second he bends over, I smack my fists down on his neck as hard as I can. That won't stop him for long, but at least it gives Thane a chance to take another shot at the creep.
But just as Thane straightens, wearing a thunderous expression, Holden takes off down the street away from us. He sprints as fast as an Olympic athlete, disappearing before either of us realizes what's going on.
I hurry over to Thane. "Are you okay?"
"Aye, fine." He manages a weak smirk. "You clobbered him good."
"Sorry I couldn't knock him out. The creep got away." I brush hair away from his eyes. "Who was that guy?"
"Holden De Boer. That's all I can tell you about him."
"I understand."
But yeah, my curiosity is desperate for more information. I understood going into this relationship that he had secrets he couldn't share. Now I need to hold up my end of the bargain and not demand more facts. How can I do that now? Knowing a man from Thane's past has a vendetta against him.
I hesitate for about one minute. Then I forge ahead with my questions. "Why did Holden say you're responsible for putting him in prison?"
"Because it's true. I assisted in bringing him in."
"He attacked you, and he saw us together. Will I be in danger now? Sorry. That sounds really selfish."
Thane pulls me into his arms and kisses my forehead. "I'm sorry, gràidh. You should never have been pulled into this. You are not selfish to be concerned about our encounter with Holden." He rests his forehead on mine. "Just know that I will do whatever is necessary to keep you out of this and keep you safe."
"Do you think Holden knows where you live?"
"Most likely. I am listed in the phone book." He winces. "Not very clever of me to be listed, considering my background."
I desperately want to ask what he means by that, but I keep my mouth shut. This isn't the time to grill him. "At least Holden can't know where I live. He doesn't even know my name."
Thane's face goes blank. He stares at the empty space beyond my shoulder for several seconds before he squeezes his eyes shut and mutters what sounds like a curse. It must be in Gaelic. "I have royally fucked up this time."
"I don't understand."
"This wasn't the first time Holden cornered me. I saw him on Sunday night when I was leaving your apartment building."
All the blood in my body seems to have frozen solid in an instant. "That creep was hanging around my building? For how long? You knew but didn't tell me? What if he'd gotten into my apartment or caught me in the garage when I was on my way to my car? You should have warned me, Thane."
He scrubs a hand over his mouth. "I assumed Holden was just blowing off steam."
"Clearly, he wasn't. You're so meticulous about your work, but you treat a stalker like he's nothing but a bug on your windshield."
Thane closes his eyes, exhaling the longest sigh I've ever heard. Then he sits down on the curb and rubs his eyes. As he shakes his head slowly, he issues more nasty Gaelic phrases that I can't translate. Even once he's done swearing, he bows his head and slumps his shoulders.
