Page 14 of Fallen Angel
All three men lay unmoving, limbs twisted, faces bleeding.
“Come on,” Ethan said, breathing hard. He pulled her close while leading her from the alley.
“It’s you,” she stammered weakly, still amazed that he was there.
“It’s me,” he said, his voice low and firm. “Faster if you can. I’d rather not be here when the police show up.”
They stepped from the backstreet onto Landon. “Wrap your arm around me,” he said. “Hide your face in my chest like you just can’t get enough of me. That asshole got you pretty good. I don’t want a cop to stop us thinking I gave you that welt.”
He led her to where his bike was parked. “I don’t live far from here. Are you too dizzy to hold on?”
She stood for a moment and tried to be aware of her body. Her head ached, but she thought she could manage. “I’m okay.”
He swung his leg over the bike. She followed behind him, resting her feet on the pegs and wrapped her arms around his waist. Squeezing her eyes shut, she pressed her cheek against his back and tried to calm her pounding heart. Still, she could see their cruel faces and feel their biting fingers.
“Hold on tight,” he said. His deep voice washed over her as they sped out into traffic. Winding through Boston’s narrow streets, the crisp air on her face sent a shiver up her back. She snuggled closer to Ethan’s warmth while she watched the tall buildings whizz passed. When they pulled onto Beacon Street and passed the State House, she sat straighter. “Where did you say we were going?”
“My place,” he answered.
He stopped on Beacon Hill right across from Boston Common. She scanned the historical row houses. “Which one is yours?”
He pointed up at the corner unit.
She took in the massive bay windows and the white woodwork, which contrasted beautifully with the brick exterior. She didn’t try to hide her surprise. “But this is Beacon Hill.”
He nodded. “I’m aware of that.”
She lifted a skeptical brow. “That’s a multi-million-dollar condo. How does a mechanic live here?
“I work hard and make good investments.”
“Oh,” she said, not knowing how else to respond.
“And my business involves more than trying to rescue young women broken down on the Zakim.” A soft smile curved his lips while he cupped her cheek and examined her face. “Let’s get some ice on that.”
He helped her off the bike and held her hand as he led her up the front steps.
“When was this built?” she asked in awe of the surrounding history.
“1822,” he said, guiding her through the front door and over to a plush, grey sofa. His hand stayed about her waist as she slowly sat down. When she was settled, he stepped back. Panic struck her as he started to walk away. She grabbed his forearm, afraid to be alone.
“Everything is gonna be okay,” he soothed. “I’m just getting you some aspirin and an ice pack, okay?”
She swallowed the knot in her throat and nodded.
He grazed the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him walk away into the kitchen, her gaze traveling over his wide shoulders and powerful arms. Again, she nearly burst into tears, but not tears of panic or fear. It was gratitude that sent the rush of emotion surging up her throat.
Ethan had saved her life.
She couldn’t bear to think of what might have happened if he had not appeared in the alley when he did.
She gazed up at the towering ceiling. Tonight had been the third time he had come to her rescue, only this time she had been in no position to refuse his aid. Her eyes shifted to the large marble fireplace and the massive bay window. The wide wood panels around the hearth gleamed under the delicate crystal chandelier—both, she assumed, were original to the house. The art and furniture suited the historical home, but also boasted clean lines and simple colors, which brought the space into the twenty-first century. As she took in the surrounding opulence, she couldn’t help but wonder after its owner—who the hell was Ethan Calloway?
“Here,” he said.
She looked up. He stood above her; the brows framing his ice-blue eyes were pinched with concern. “Thank you,” she said, taking the aspirin and water from his hand.
