Page 69 of Unlocked

Relief flooded through him, so intense it left him momentarily still. She was safe. She was here. And the fact that that relief hit him as hard as it did told him considerably more than he wanted to know about where things stood between them.

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

He took the stairs two at a time, his pulse hammering. She was safe, but the relief was already giving way to something else. She'd left without security. Left her apartment alone. Put herself in danger. Again. The anger sat easier inside than the fear that had preceded it, so he let it build.

He pounded on the door. A brief pause, then he heard her undoing the chain and then the lock. She opened the door, and his heart hit his knees.

His eyes moved over her in one sweep. The torn shirt. The dirt on her cheek. The way she was holding herself too carefully, as if movement hurt. Something tightened in his chest that had nothing to do with anger.

"What happened?" His voice came out quieter than he intended.

"Someone tried to grab me," she said. "At the corner store. They tried to put me in a van." A shudder swept over her frame.

They'd tried to take her. Put her somewhere he couldn't find her.

"Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine."

"Tatum."

"I got away," she said, lifting her chin. "I'm fine."

She wasn't fine. He could see it in the tremor in her hands, the pallor of her face, the effort it was taking her to hold herself together. He fought the urge to pull her in and not let go. Instead, he stepped inside and closed the door.

"Let me see your head."

"It's fine."

"Let me see it."

She sighed and turned around. He reached up, his fingers careful as they found the knot on the back of her skull. When she winced and pulled away, something moved through him that wasn't entirely anger.

"You need ice," he said, keeping his voice steady. "And you need to be checked for a concussion."

"I don't have a concussion."

"You don't know that."

"I know what a concussion feels like," she said, turning back to face him. "This isn't one."

He didn't believe her, but he could see the stubbornness in her eyes and knew arguing would get him nowhere. He pulled out his phone.

"What are you doing?" she frowned.

"Calling Ryker. I'm putting a full-time security detail on you. No arguments."

"Archer..."

"No arguments, Tatum." He met her eyes and kept his expression neutral, keeping everything he was feeling well back from the surface. The fear. The fury. The part of him that wanted to promise her nothing would ever touch her again and mean it completely. "They just tried to kidnap you in broad daylight. This isn't a warning anymore. This is an escalation."

She looked like she wanted to argue. He could see it in her face, that fierce independence that was so fundamentally her, the thing that made her extraordinary and also the thing that was going to get her killed if he couldn't keep her safe.

Then something shifted. The fight went out of her. "Okay," she said quietly.

He blinked. "Okay?"

"Okay. Put security on me. Whatever you think is best."