Page 3 of Safe in His Arms


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“Fucking hell.” He pinned her with a look. She couldn’t tell the color of his eyes, but they were black in the moonlight. “You’re going to be trouble.”

“No I’m not,” she said, shrinking away from him. “Please, take me to see Katarina. I won’t do anything to cause a problem.” She’d promise him almost anything at that point.

“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll need to wake her up. She’s probably in bed. I’ll dig out the first aid kit, too. Even if you won’t see a doctor, we need to do something about that cut on your forehead.”

She touched a finger to the gash and hissed. With her fight or flight reflex fully engaged for the past hours, she’d forgotten about it. Head wounds bled a lot, so she must look a fright.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “What happened to you?”

She didn’t answer, and he didn’t ask again as he led her to one of the doors she’d tried to open earlier and fished a set of keys from his pockets. Casting a glance over her shoulder, she searched the shadows for movement but didn’t see anything.

She prayed that meant nobody was out there.

2

Once he’d unlockedthe foyer entrance, Tione waited while their unexpected guest limped up the stairs with Pixie on her heels. He wanted to help but he’d seen the way her eyes followed him, like she was waiting for him to lash out, and he didn’t want to frighten her. Instead, he closed the door and led her to Kat’s apartment, where he knocked softly. Something rustled, low voices murmured, and then the door cracked open.

“Tee?” Kat asked, opening it wider and shoving hair out of her eyes. “What’s up?”

“You’ve got a problem.” He spoke quietly so the woman behind him wouldn’t hear.

She frowned. “What is it?”

“Come out here and see.”

Stepping into the hall, Kat’s gaze traveled to the mystery woman but in the dim light she hadn’t yet noticed the extent of her injuries.

“Kia ora, sweetheart. I’m Kat. How can I help you?”

“I found her outside, trying to get in the garden entrance,” he said.

Kat glanced at him irritably. “Arohamai, sorry, but I was talking to…” She trailed off, waiting for the woman to fill the gap.

“Hope,” she rasped in that gravelly voice he suspected had more to do with the bruises ringing her neck than anything else. “You can call me Hope.”

Interesting choice of phrasing. She hadn’t actually said her name was Hope, just that they could call her that. It didn’t slip past him, and he was pretty sure it didn’t get by Kat either. His friend came closer, offering her hand, but it froze in midair.

“Oh, my God.” With that, Kat hip-barged Tione to the side and stared at Hope in horror. “You poor thing! What happened? Wait—don’t tell me now.” She turned to him. “Take Hope to the pink bedroom. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Just as he’d feared, she was ready to take the girl in, no questions asked. This was exactly why she needed him around. But he’d wait before he raised his concerns. Right now, Hope needed tending to.

“Come with me,” he ordered, leading her to the guest room with pink decor. The door stood ajar and he switched the light on before letting “Hope” in. She went straight to the bed and settled on the edge of it. The artificial light cast her vicious facial bruising into sharp relief. Her left cheek was a map of mottled purples and blues, and the wound at her forehead was still bleeding. Her eyes were downcast, and she wore a baggy black jacket and loose pants. It was easy to see how he’d mistaken her for a boy. Dark blonde hair was tied in a tail at the nape of her neck, but a few strands hung around her face, sticky and red.

“You’re a mess,” he said, bending to stroke Pixie’s trembling body. “What happened?” She kept her head down and didn’t reply. Crossing the room, he bent to study her wound more closely. “This might need stitches.”

She shivered. “Tape will be fine.”

“You’re cold?” It had been brisk outside, and her body was probably putting all of its energy into healing.

“No, I’m fine.”

“Liar.” He switched on the heat pump that was mounted on the wall. “There you go.”

“Thank you.”

Kat bustled into the room carrying a bucket and a large plastic container, and closed the door. The scent of disinfectant followed her, and Pixie backed away, put off by the strong antiseptic odor. Laying the container at the foot of the bed, Kat sat on the bed beside Hope and lifted a steaming cloth from the bucket, then wrung the water from it.

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