Page 115 of The Toy Maker

I swallowed down the fear of what I assumed was a fight. But with who? I remembered those hazel eyes as he yanked the hand off me and lifted me off the table.

My fingers wandered over my neck. It was still sore. Just as I was about to get up, the back door opened, and I was face to face with my supposed savior.

“Ethan?” My voice was barely audible, but he still looked relieved.

He set a couple bags on the table and rushed to my side. “How’s your head?”

“I’ve never had any complaints.” It hurt to laugh.

The grin on his face set my mind at ease. Clearly, he wasn’t the one Jason punched. “I’m glad you feel like you can joke about this.”

I gave him a weak smile. “How long was I out?”

“Three hours,” he said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here the first time you woke up; I was trying to find him.” Ethan nodded toward Jason’s sleeping form.

My brows scrunched together in concern. “What happened?”

His expression darkened. “After putting on a very convincing performance, an unnaturally large man nearly choked you to death.”

I blinked back to the flashes of the table and tried to push the memory from my mind. “I meant what happened to Jason,” I said quietly.

Ethan’s face fell even further at my question, and he sighed. “He punched Sam a few times.” He must have seen the panic form in my eyes. “He’s okay. Just a little black and blue.”

“Who’s Sam?” I asked, embarrassed.

“The guy who nearly killed you.”

Finally, a name for the golden-haired stranger. “Is he still here?”

“Kitty is bandaging him up in the dressing room.”

“How hard did Jas?—”

Ethan cut me off before I could finish, “Hard enough.”

“But the blood on hi?—”

“Isn’t his,” Ethan said. “He did what he thought he had to do.”

I glanced over Jason’s still sleeping figure; he seemed so tranquil. Even after insulting me and pretending not to care about my involvement in the feast, he defended me in front of the whole store.

Hehitsomeone to protect me.

“I’ll be happy to answer more of your questions after you eat something.” Ethan grabbed the bags and brought them over to me.

“I can’t even think about food right now.” There was a sentence I never thought I’d be saying.

“Fine.” He handed me a soft drink. “At least drink something so Jade doesn’t hit me.”

I took a sip and fought down the urge to vomit. Ethan watched me intently, probably bracing himself in case he had to rescue me from toppling to the floor.

“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” I admitted.

He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“Were you really?” The chill of the soda can felt nice against my palms.

Ethan’s eyes met mine. “I have an offer.”