Page 38 of The Way You Hurt Me

"All clear," the man next to me replies.

Clear as in, Tom and Sam are dead.

Because Tom was hurting me. And these people came in to stop it.

Those facts slowly make their way to my brain, but I can't quite make sense of them. Why would they be here for me? How did they know I needed help? Did they hear something?

No. He called me Ms. Brown. He knows me. He was watching me. Protecting me.

"I'm going to let you go now, Ms. Brown. Please do not scream again."

I make my head nod, feeling myself shiver all over.

His gloved hand moves from my mouth, and he straightens up. "How are you feeling? Are you hurt anywhere, miss?"

I shake my head. "Thanks to you."

The man smiles. "Only doing my job, miss. Glad to have helped."

I suddenly straighten up in panic. "I'm live!"

Someone must have seen them shoot the guys. And sure, Tom was trying to rape me, but given my line of work, I figure that’s a far less important detail than, oh, say, an actual murder.Plus, he said my name.

"Your equipment was my first shot, miss," the stranger assures me. "No offense. That scum of the earth was the second."

Oh. Of course he was smart enough to cover his tracks.

"My apologies about your equipment."

"Oh, you never have to apologize for, like, anything. Ever." It occurs to me that I know nothing about my rescuer. "Sorry, you are?"

The logical questions would be, what are you doing here, how did you arrive just in time. But I don't need to ask, do I? Not only because the second, silent man, near the door, spoke in Russian in his earpiece. Simply because there's only one possible answer.

These men work for him. They have to.

He's had me watched.

I flush.

He…knew what was going on tonight. Oh, god. Somehow, that's a little mortifying. Did he tell Morgan? She's going to strangle me.

"Andrei, miss."

"Andrei. Thank you so much." I clear my throat. "So, you're a bodyguard?"

"Yes, miss. One of your regular ones. I work in shifts with Quintin and Marc. Paul, here, has been assigned to you as well tonight, in case we needed more security for your hobby."

He's saying words, and each one first confuses, then baffles me when I understand their meaning.

"You mean, you regularly watch after me?"

"Every day, miss. For the last three years."

Three years.

Threeyears.

I gasp. That's just...not logical.

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