Page 147 of Terms of Exposure

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I rubbed her back. "Then let's get you to bed."

I'd tried to stay. Offered to sleep on her couch, but she declined.

"I need to be in my own space," she whispered. "I'll lock the door. I'll be fine."

I'll be fine.

Every instinct screamed no. But Damien stepped in.

He made the calls—fast, efficient. Within minutes, building security was alerted, the doorman tipped.

The only reason I agreed to leave.

Damien checked the lock one last time after we stepped out.

"You ready?" he asked quietly.

No.

I nodded.

The elevator doors slid open. He placed a hand at the small of my back and guided me inside.

As the doors closed, adrenaline drained away.

She was safe.

At least for tonight.

My gaze fell to Damien's hands.

Split knuckles. Drying blood. Swelling already setting in.

"Damien," I said softly. "I didn't want you in a fist fight tonight."

"I know." His shoulders dropped. "I'm sorry, I tried not to."

My brows furrowed. "Tried?"

He sighed, long and weary.

"I tried not to be like him, but—"

I froze.

Him.

Thehim.

I caught his hand.

He didn't pull away.

The seconds ticking by in silence.

The elevator dinged, doors opening wide.

We stepped out, the doors closing behind us.

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