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Story: The Inquisitor

“Are you in pain?”

“Yes, but seeing you safe makes all the booboos go away.”

I rolled my eyes. How could he tease right now?

“You need to take care of this or you’ll bleed to death.” I used the hem of my shirt and dabbed the blood from his palm, trying not to touch the gash.

He didn’t even wince when I accidentally touched the swollen flesh.

“Does it hurt?” I asked, wanting a serious answer.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In my other hand.”

“What?” I dropped the injured hand to look at the other one, but no injuries appeared.

He flexed it. “It’s in pain because it’s throbbing to hurt the escaped attacker.”

The police and emergency crew arrived, took the wounded attacker to the hospital, and dropped us off at his health center where Forrest added ointment to the wound and wrapped his hand in gauze.

I held his palm in my hands, staring at the white gauze. Then I drew a heart at the center with my finger and kissed it. “That’ll heal the wound faster.”

“It certainly will.” He raked a gaze up and down my body. “Are you sure you’re not hurt anywhere?”

I nodded. “They just had a bag over my head. You came just in time.” I was scared to death, but compared to his injury, mine was psychological. It would pass soon enough.

“The fuckers.” His jaws tightened. “That was a traumatic experience you didn’t deserve.”

It was traumatic, and my body trembled a little remembering it. He pulled me into an embrace and kissed the top of my head.

“Do you have an ex-girlfriend who still loves you?”

“What? No. Why?”

“A woman warned me to stay away from you. Her voice was distorted though.”

He stared at the floor, thinking. “I don’t know who it could be. No one stands out. Maybe it’s a misdirection. I’ll work with the local authorities on this. Let’s not think about this anymore. We need to get you back to Providence. I want you safe. There’s good news waiting for you there.”

“News about what?”

“Your mom will be okay.”

An immense burden fell from my shoulders. “Really? How? What did you find out?”

“I’ll tell you on our flight back home. I want you safe. You have three hours to pack.”

He deserved a gold medal for the ability to think clearly under stress.

“No more being nice, okay?” He touched my cheek delicately. “That old lady vanished when you went after the dog. When I came back to our table and didn’t see you, I knew something was wrong. The restaurant has a camera so I asked to see it. Don’t trust anyone. My enemies could be after you because you’re mine.”

“Oh . . .” Goodness, I should be extra cautious of people.

What the hell was going on? Were his enemies using me as bait?I could tell there was more he wasn’t telling me. Maybe he was still trying to piece everything together as well.

I want you safe.He’d told me that too many times.