Page 26 of Broken

“Don’t argue,” I say.

A fire enters her eyes, like she is about to tell me to go to hell, but I do the childish thing and walk off with her bike. It leaves her no choice but to follow me. She’s limping, so I slow down. As she catches up, I run my eyes over her again.

“Did you hit anywhere else? Your head?” I ask.

She shakes it and frowns at my elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve been hurt worse.”

“Really?”

I grunt in response. I’m not about to fill her in on my time in the army, or the fights I’ve gotten into over the years. Guess Calli gets the picture because she stays quiet. We’re careful crossing the street and Calli rushes forward to hold the door open so I can get the bike inside.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Katja comes out from behind the counter when she sees us. “Are you alright?”

“It was a slight accident,” Calli tells her, embarrassment staining her cheeks again.

I set the bike against the wall, gritting my teeth as another arrow shoots up my arm. “Kat, grab the first aid kit.” She nods and ducks under the counter.

“I’m fine,” Calli says.

“Come with me,” I tell her. She frowns and is about to protest, but Katja passes me the first aid box. I mean, it wasn’t a demand. I’m trying to help her. “Please, let me get you get cleaned up.”

Calli’s eyes widen. That hits home a little too hard. She’s surprised I’m being kind. Fuck. To counteract that, I turn my back on her and walk away.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Do you need a hospital?” Katja asks.

“No, it’s a few scrapes, honestly. I’ll get it cleaned up, then be good as new.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

I stop short and glance at Shane. He is bent over his table, with the woman from earlier. With her huge cat on her chest. I swear to fucking Christ.

“Is that a cat?” Calli asks, coming to a stop behind me.

My nostrils flare. If I didn’t have to deal with her injuries, I’d be losing my shit right now. I bet Lucky told cat lady they didn’t need to stay in back the minute I was gone.

“Everything okay?” Shane asks. His face is pensive as he glances at the cat, then back to us.

“Get it done,” I tell him. I don’t need to add and get that fucking cat out of here. He knows we’ll be having words when she’s gone.

“Almost finished.” He turns away and gets back to the tattoo.

The damn cat is staring, as if challenging me. When I look at Calli, there is amusement shining in her eyes. It turns to pain, and she winces, reminding me why she’s here. She follows me into the back room, and I set the first aid kit down on the counter and point to the table.

“I can do it,” she steps inside.

“Can you just let me? I have medical training.”

“You do?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. Public safety is a priority here.”

I’ve surprised her again. She walks over to the table and carefully gets on it, wincing when her palms touch the leather.

“Careful,” I say, gentling my tone a little.

Calli inspects her palms, then leans forward and looks at her knees. I busy myself at the sink, getting what I need from the first aid box, washing my hands and wetting some paper towels.It doesn’t register in my head I’m going to touch her until I’m standing in front of her holding out a hand.

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