Chapter 5 #3
Why am I thinking about how sexy he looks? I scold myself. This isn’t a date. And even if Tyler doesn’t think I’m crazy or lying, he’s not likely to be interested in someone like me.
“So it sounds like things have been escalating quickly,” Tyler observes. “And given everything else that’s happened, it’s not a stretch to think that the attack could be related.”
That’s something I haven’t let myself think about. “Do you really think so? I was hoping… maybe it was a mix-up. That he was on drugs, maybe he got the wrong address...”
“It’s possible. If it was an isolated event, it would be more likely. But—” he shakes his head. “I think we need to consider that it’s related.”
Tyler’s gaze shifts to the window, and his gaze grows distant. A few seconds later, he brings his attention back to me. “And what did the police say when you told them?”
My stomach knots. “I didn’t tell them.”
Tyler frowns. “Why not?”
After a heavy sigh, I explain, “Because I was afraid they wouldn’t believe me. With my history, I was worried they’d assume I was involved. That I’m some drug dealer trying to welch on my deal. It wouldn’t be the first time someone’s assumed I’m up to no good because of what I did.”
A grimace twists his features. “People do that?”
I nod. “Sometimes. But I’ve been trying to keep a low profile ever since I moved here. Stay out of trouble. Not give people a reason to suspect me.”
Tyler goes quiet, thinking again.
“Well,” he finally says. “It’s clear to me that we need to look into this.
Not just the man who attacked you, but the incidents at work, too.
Once you’re out of the hospital, we’ll want to put you someplace secure.
Someplace the attacker—” He stops. “I haven’t checked since I got off the plane. Did the police catch the guy?”
“Checked?”
He lowers his voice. “The police records. I checked them earlier, to see if they had anything on your attacker. But once I arrived in Albany, I was in a hurry to get here. So I didn’t take the time to look again.”
Before I can respond, he adds in that same conspiratorial tone, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything about the records. I don’t think they’d be thrilled to know what I was doing.”
A spark of pleasure ignites inside me.
He’s sharing a secret that could get him in trouble. Which means he trusts me.
I wrap my fingers around his. “I won’t say anything.”
He smiles at me. “I know you won’t.” Then he continues, “So we’ll get you someplace safe. Then I’ll start investigating. Security cameras at your work, near your house, background checks into your coworkers—”
Alarm replaces pleasure. “Tyler,” I interrupt. “I can’t pay you for all that. I have some money, but I know Blade and Arrow’s services are expensive. Maybe, if you would accept installments…”
“Mel.” Tyler shoots me an offended look. “I wouldn’t take your money.”
“But if you take me on as a client…”
“We don’t charge our clients. Not for stuff like this. And besides, you’re not a client. You’re a friend. I would never charge a friend for helping them.”
“What about your teammates, though?”
“They agree. Whatever you need, they’re on board with it.”
Oh.
I can’t deny being taken aback. It’s one thing, having Tyler agree to help me—which I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around—but for his teammates to be on board, too?
“So,” Tyler continues. “Since that’s decided. The question is, where best to protect you. If it wasn’t so far away, I’d bring you to HQ. But I’d rather be here for the investigation. We could try setting up your house, unless your parents—”
“No!” I blurt, louder than intended. “No. I won’t bring my trouble to them. They already had to deal with so much during my treatment and recovery. Plus, what if the guy comes after me again? I can’t risk their safety.”
“Okay.” His gaze holds mine; calm and reassuring. “That’s fine, Mel. I can set up something right in town.” He pauses. “It’s probably better if we stay at your place, anyway. So if anyone gets it into their head to try anything else, we’ll be right there to stop it.”
“We?”
“Yes.” Tyler enfolds my hand in his. “We. Me. My friends. You.” A beat, and then, “You’re not alone in this, Mel. Okay?”
My throat thickens again. “Are you sure?”
I don’t know why I keep asking him that. Like I want him to change his mind, or something.
“I’m sure,” he replies. “Absolutely sure. Now.” He glances at the clock. “I think we’ve talked about this enough for now. You need to rest. Unless… Are you hungry? Have you eaten anything today? I remember when I was in the hospital, my appetite was shit—”
His mouth abruptly clamps shut. Dull spots of red color his cheeks.
The limp, I think. Something happened, maybe on an op, and he ended up in the hospital.
The hospital, where he may have gone when his wife died.
What if it’s hard for him, being here? What if it’s bringing back bad memories?
My own worries shift to make room for concern about him.
“Maybe we could find something to eat,” I offer. “I bet you’re hungry, after traveling all day. And we could see if the hospital TV has the channel that plays those shows you like. Ancient Aliens and Ghost Hunters.”
Tyler looks at me, surprised. “You remembered?”
“Yeah.”
He thinks again. “I bet Griff would grab some takeout for us. So you don’t have to eat the crap they serve here. And—” His gaze moves to the bruise on my forehead. “Your concussion, though. It’s not good to watch TV.”
“Just a little,” I reply. “A few minutes of TV couldn’t hurt.”
Tyler looks at me with an unreadable expression. His gaze softens. Then he gives my hand another gentle squeeze. “You’re right, Mel. And I think it’s a great idea.”