Page 129 of Pretty Mess

“Fox put a room at our disposal for the night.” He hesitates. “Would you like to go home instead?”

“I just want a shower and to sleep. I don’t care where that is. And what do you mean, is it okay to help me?”

“I didn’t want to do that unless you say it’s okay,” he says stubbornly.

I edge into him, feeling his body’s heat and strength with a sigh of relief. “You have my permission and do me a favour—please don’t ask me that again. I’m fine.”

He nods and slides his arm over my shoulder, his grip perfect. “Let’s go up. You can have a shower.”

“That soundslovely,” I say fervently.

Julian pats my hand. “I’ll see you later,” he murmurs.

I’m relieved to find no one outside goggling at us. In fact, the whole place seems deserted.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

“Fox sent them away. The club is closed.”

I nod and focus on getting one foot in front of the other. The stairs are slow-going, but Mac doesn’t show irritation when I insist on managing them myself. He helps me along and patiently waits whenever I pause.

At one point, I have to rest against the balustrade, and I gaze into his quietly concerned face. “You’d make a good dad.”

“I think that might be the first time that’s been said to me.” He stares at me. “You ready to move again?”

“Absolutely.”

It seems like an eternity, but eventually, we get to an open door. Fox is there waiting, and he hands Mac a plastic bag with a chemist’s logo. “Doc’s prescription,” he says and gives me a gentle smile. “How are you feeling, Wes?”

“I’m not sure he’s up to much conversation,” Mac warns. He helps me into the room.

“I just need to know what you want to do, Wes.” Fox says, following us in.

“About what?” I ask.

“Should I call the police?”

“You would do that? Isn’t it against club rules? Won’t it impact your business if the police are involved?”

Mac huffs and looks at me fondly. “Get used to the multitude of questions, Fox. They’re a regular feature of keeping company with Wes.”

Fox offers me a wry look. “I know too many secrets about coppers for this to impact me. And I never met a rule I didn’t want to break. I’m more worried about you. Do you want him charged?”

“And what would that do?” I stop to rest against a chest of drawers, waving off Mac’s attempts to help and hissing in pain when I lean on my hip. “I’m okay,” I say to him. I turn back to Fox. “The police won’t do anything. If they find out what I am, they’ll have zero sympathy, and in the end,I’llbe the bad person.”

“What do you mean, they’ll find out what you are?” Mac echoes, looking confused.

I grimace. “I’m a whore, Mac.”

“Do noteveruse that fucking word about yourself.”

“Why? It’s the truth. We can sugarcoat it, but the police certainly won’t.”

“I’m not the police,” Fox says steadily. “And I have a powerful rage. Do you trust me to handle this?”

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” I ask anxiously. “I hate him, but I don’t want him dead.”

He stares at me in stupefaction. “No, ofcoursenot. Whatever gave you that idea?”