Page 24 of His Asset

And I wasn’t anyone’s property.

Not ever again.

I’d promised Reuben a week and that was what I’d give him.

Unlike the humans who’d shown me nothing but broken pledges, I’d never broken a promise, and I didn’t intend to start now.

Chapter Ten

The armored SUV slowedto a stop at the end of the narrow, uneven alleyway.One of Reuben’s men jumped out first, checking the growing shadows with a quick sweep before opening the rear door.

Reuben climbed out stiffly, a wince tugging at his features as he straightened.His boots crunched on a spray of gravel and broken glass.I followed him, dragging in a steadying breath.The air was thick with city smells.Stale oil.Wet concrete.Rust.And the deeper stench of decay.

Unlike the night before, I took note of the place Reuben called home.

His building looked forgotten by time, brickwork stained and sagging under the weight of years.His door was wedged into the crumbling wall, paint peeling, the wood warped.Above it, the single bulb flickered, the only source of light in the alleyway that was heavy with shadow.

“You good?”Reuben’s man asked.

Reuben nodded and his security, or whatever he was, climbed back into the passenger seat of the vehicle.It rolled off silently, leaving us in the hush of near-dark.

I hadn’t realized how tense I was until the murky air surrounded me in its warm, quiet cloak, so soothing compared to the roar of the underground ring.

Reuben offered his hand without looking at me.I took it reluctantly, my mindset different toward him now.It was with good reason I didn’t trust easily.I followed him over the cracked asphalt toward his place.There were no cameras here.No spotlights.Just the creak of the door as it opened into dim stillness.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of amber, aged wood and the faintest trace of smoke.It was familiar and oddly safe.

Reuben toed off his boots, his robe clinging to him.He was squeaky clean now he’d washed away the sweat, and the blood that hadn’t been all his.He didn’t say anything at first, just rolled his sore shoulder before absently glancing at his bruised, scraped knuckles.

Then his eyes found mine, sudden concern lacing his voice when he asked, “How’s your ankle?”

I blinked.He hadn’t checked his busted lip or the swelling around his brow.But somehow, he remembered the burn he’d bandaged earlier like it mattered more.He’d gone from Reuben to Chief and back to Reuben again.

He stepped closer and crouched in front of me, already pulling off my boot, then reaching for the fraying edge of the gauze.

I tensed.“I’m fine—”