Page 12 of Saved by Him

Six

The floor was cold,and they took my coat, but sometimes the colors came and kept me warm.Hehadn’t come back since I’d screamed him away, but sometimes others came.

“You’re a really good agent,” I told Clay. “I’m glad that no one found out about us. It was stupid for us to fuck. It wasn’t anything real, and we risked your career. Don’t do it again. You wait until you find someone who’s worth everything, and if she’s worth it, she won’t ask you to risk your career. You deserve it all.”

He smiled at me. That Clay smile that always made me think of the times before Anton died. Back when I still had at least some family. Before I was alone.

Like I was alone now.

Because there wasn’t anyone in the room with me. Clay had left. He never stayed long. He hadn’t stayed long before either.

“Anton, haven’t you gotten that damn thing to work yet?”

I looked up from my seat in the corner as a tall pretty-boy came swaggering into the loft like he owned it. Unruly dark hair and a pair of intelligent blue-gray eyes. If he hadn’t walked right over to the fridge and grabbed a beer like he had every right to go rooting around in the kitchen, I might have thought he was attractive.

Okay, I wasn’t blind. He was hot. Younger than Uncle Anton, but older than my seventeen years.

“Want to grab me a beer too?” I asked as I set aside my book.

He looked down, surprised to see me. “You don’t look old enough to drink.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I believe it’s legal as long as I’m at home and it’s been given to me by my guardian.”

“I’m not your guardian,” he countered.

“You walked into my home acting like you live here, so I was confused.”

He stared at me for a moment, then laughed. “I’m Clay Kurth.” He held out a hand, and I shook it. “I met your uncle at the courthouse a couple weeks ago.”

“You’re the FBI agent who helped him carry that old turntable up here.” I gestured to the hunk of junk in the corner where Uncle Anton had spent his spare time lately.

“I am,” Clay said. “He was bound and determined to get that thing up here. I thought he was nuts.”

“I’m not the one who went undercover in Crazy Tony’s crew to make a racketeering case,” Anton said mildly.

I gave Clay another look. Anton made sure I stayed away from the more unsavory parts of Hell’s Kitchen, but I would’ve had to be deaf to not know who Crazy Tony was. This FBI agent was either incredibly brave…or an idiot. I was leaning toward the latter.

Clay had come around a few more times before Anton died, and after that, he’d kept an eye on me, eventually recruiting me to the FBI. I doubted Uncle Anton would’ve approved of the two of us sleeping together, but I knew he would’ve been glad to know that I had someone like Clay at my back.

Back.

Back.

My back was against the wall. It was cold. My colors had gone away again. Food would come soon, and with it, the needle and the colors. I wouldn’t feel the cold or the fear that wanted to sneak in when those thoughts crept in again. The thoughts that asked where I was and what was going to happen to me.

“Did he hurt you again?”

Jalen looked worried as he crouched next to me. I slowly shook my head as he brushed his finger down my cheek.

“As long as I don’t scream, he doesn’t hurt me,” I said. “And I don’t need to scream when you and Clay are here to protect me.” I grabbed his hand. “Don’t be mad about Clay. He’s my friend.”

“I know,” Jalen said. He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “He’s a good guy.”

I nodded emphatically, then closed my eyes for a moment. Too much moving made me dizzy. I kept talking though. I liked talking to Jalen.

“He is a good guy. I really want you two to get along.”

“We do.”

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