Page 171 of The Reluctant Hero

“I see my imp has been busy while I’ve been away,” he remarks casually as his eyes narrow on my wounds.

“Get away from me,” I manage to get out hoarsely. The words spark a wobbly sense of panic, and I try to get away from him. I don’t have enough strength in my limbs to manage it. I’m more wavering on my feet than struggling. My arm comes up to create a space between my chest and his but ends up flopping uselessly. As soon as I try to move the baton his fingers tighten over my wrist. Not hard but enough that I know a spin won’t happen.

His expression darkens, and his eyes meet mine. They seem blank, like South’s, for a split second until I see deeper. There’s something wild in them that I don’t recognize. My brain is screaming that it isn’t good, but my body is sagging weakly, all of the fight washing out of me as pain takes first place.

I want to sit down and have a pint of ice cream with some alcohol to wash it down. And some aspirin. What do I have to do to make that possible?

He slowly releases his hold on my ass and brings his hand up to lightly run his fingers over my neck. Even with the gentleness, I wince at the burning sting.

“I see now,” he whispers and nods to himself.

The same hand reaches behind him underneath the jacket and then stiffens to point at the guy who’s slowly regaining consciousness. I get a brief flash of something black in his hand before Jake’s arm jerks. At the same time, a loud clap of sound deafens me.

I cringe, turning my face away from the sound as if that could help. An insistent ringing starts up that sends every other sound into the background. My head hurts too damn much for this.

Jake’s body moves, his chest rumbling against mine. I can tell he’s speaking, but not what he’s saying. It’s all mumbles and earnest looks of concern as I stare up at him in dazed confusion. My hands go up to grip his shirt in my fists to keepsteady. I feel wobbly, and he’s the only stable thing I have near me. I don’t notice when the baton falls to the ground.

Something pulls my attention away from his face and toward the empty mouth of the alley. Jake’s head follows. He leans away from me to toss the gun from one hand to the other and aims where I’m staring before I stumble. When I fall into him, he stays stiffly in place. His arm bands around my waist to hold me close.

Mikael rounds the corner with a gun at the ready, Ace close behind him. They take in the situation with calm expressions and focus on the guy instead of Jake. Their mouths move for a second before the muffled sounds snap into painful focus.

“-in public?” Mikael is saying angrily.

“He put his hands on her. I killed him,” Jake’s tone is way too reasonable for that kind of action.

“Get her out of here,” Ace seethes, his attention going to me. I’m mostly hidden behind Jake’s body, so he doesn’t see much.

Jake’s arm lowers, replacing the weapon at the small of his back. Both arms go around me this time as he frowns.

“Can you hear me?” he asks slowly. His hands move restlessly up and down my back, the heat searing me. I feel like I just got dipped in ice water.

I blink and nod a few times. That intense expression is overwritten with concern and a brief flash of irritation.

“Sorry about that,meine Seele.I didn’t think about the noise. He won’t interrupt us again.”

“Jesus, Jake,” Mikael grunts and moves past us.

Jake ignores their furious commentary and brushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I’m still nodding, and I can’t seem to stop. It’s agonizing. I just thought my knee hurt. Am I inshock? I should be running away from them. They’re going to toss me back in jail or worse.

Fingers pinch my chin and tilt me to see Ace next to Jake with concern all over his face. I’m too dazed to be mad at the move.

“You alright, darlin’?” His eyes rove over me, taking in the bruises I have covering me like a rash.

“Grab her weapon,” Jake instructs him with a confidence I haven’t heard before. “I’m taking you home now,meine Seele. Ok? Stick with me.”

Jake begins slowly backing up, forcing Ace to let go. My hands clench on his vest, and he pauses, making a soothing noise in his throat.

“I’m not leaving you. It’s fine. We’ll get home and have a hot bath together. How does that sound?”

It sounds wrong. I’m starting to think my sanity deserted me somewhere in this alley. He sounds so rational but his words are not what I’m expecting. Maybe I have a concussion.

A white SUV pulls up at the entrance of the alley, distracting me from his crazy speech.

“I can’t,” I mutter in confusion, my steps shuffling as he leads me away from whatever destruction is behind me. My lack of any particular feeling is beginning to irritate me. I embrace the familiar emotion gratefully.

“Did you just shoot that guy?” My voice is weak, and I sound like a bullfrog. I haven’t let him go, but my disapproval is apparent.

“I did,” he says in the soothing tone of someone trying to lure a feral cat to a food dish.

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