Page 143 of His Secret Gift

“Uh…”

“I know, I know.” He’s likely more used to keeping that a secret. “I promise it’s for an important reason. Um, I don’t want to implicate him or anything, but we have reason to believe he’s with afriendof mine.”

Thinking of him hurting her makes me grip the phone tightly.

“Please. He’ll never find out it was you who gave it to me. You have my word.”

With a little more convincing, he finally gives it to me.

“Thank you. Thank you.”

Fortunately, there’s a group of men walking by, and I ask them if they’re locals.

“Yes,” one of them responds.

“Can you please tell me where Philoxenia Apartments are?”

“It’s literally right over there, mate.” He points in front of himself.

“Thank you.” I don’t think another second before taking off running, and I feel Bryant and Callie behind me.

We get there, and I scan the caller box. Then, I find the number Dimitrios told me, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

“God damnit!” I exclaim, brushing my hair with my fingers.

However, our luck continues when someone buzzes in, and doesn’t seem to notice or care when we follow in after him.

My adrenaline is pumping as we get to his floor. I’m anticipating having to kick his door down or something, but as it turns out, she’s already out in the hallway.

“Leave me alone!” she yells before he follows after her.

When she turns to see me, her eyes are wide. “Jack?”

I engulf her in my arms before warning Yannis to take a few steps back. He raises his hands and does as I say.

“You’re safe now,” I whisper to her.

I pull her away and look at her for a second. There are tears falling down her cheeks.

“What happened?” My jaw is clenched.

“Nothing. Well, he tried. But I fought him off. I’m so sorry. I thought I was helping you.” She collapses against my chest, and I hold her.

“I—” Yannis starts. I put my hand up and then gesture with my head for Bryant to take care of him.

“Yes, sir.” He then stomps past us. “You, in there. Now.” Then, the door shuts with them inside.

Callie takes her turn hugging Kayla, and she wipes at her face. “I was so worried about you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kayla repeats.

I have many more questions—like why the hell she would be stupid enough to leave and go home with a complete stranger—but those could wait for now.

“Did he hurt you?”

She holds her arms out. There are a few scratches.

“Do you think you need medical attention?” I have no idea what might be concealed by her clothing.

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