Losing Control(73)

“Put me down,” I say. “I have to get going. What time is it anyway?”

I had it planned so that my last delivery would allow me to get to my job in time. Too many late arrivals and absences due to my mom’s illness have put my once-secure courier position in jeopardy. Ian’s arms tighten around me as I struggle, but then the pounding in my head gets stronger so I give in. It’s easier to lay my head against Ian’s broad chest and close my eyes.

He curses softly. “What happened?”

“Guy attacked her. She fell down the stairs and he hit her a few more times before I could get to her.” Steve pauses. “Sorry, man. Parked too far away. She vomited when I tried to sit her upright. Probably has a small concussion.”

“Where is he?” Ian growls, like a feral animal. The harshness in his voice is in direct contradiction to the tender way he’s holding me. “I’m going to kill him.”

“Mate, we need to move her soon.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Get his details. I’m coming back once I have Tiny squared away.”

“Don’t go to sleep, Tiny.” Steve snaps his fingers in front of me again. When I have the energy I’m breaking those digits off so he can’t snap them again.

Ian shifts me higher in his arms. “Where’s the car?”

Steve must’ve gestured because I don’t hear any verbal response. “What car today?” I ask because I don’t feel like pulling my head out of the nice little nest on his shoulder. If I place my nose is the right spot, I get a whiff of lemon from his shaving cream. And the lemon scent makes me think of how great the morning started with Ian heavy between my legs before I came out here to this quiet family neighborhood and got the crap beaten out of me.

“Things went to hell in a hurry this morning,” I murmur into his collarbone.

“Should never have left you,” he replies tersely. When we’re at the car, Ian settles me against the side of the vehicle as he opens the car door.

“We should get a minivan,” I tell him. “In the commercials, the doors open and close with a push of a button.”

“I don’t think anyone in the city owns a minivan.” He sounds amused.

“We’ll need it for our kids.”

He sucks in a breath and then hugs me tight as he puts me into the back of the Bentley. I stretch out on the soft leather and fall into a light sleep. It’s not even sleep because I can hear Steve climb in and then another car door open and shut.

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

Ian replies, “We can’t. They’d be bound to report an assault and Tiny’s got the packages on her. Let’s go to the warehouse.”

As Steve takes off smoothly, Ian plucks a phone out of his pocket with one free hand. The other is pressing me against his chest. “Roger, Ian Kerr here . . . Great. I’m glad that investment worked for you. Hey, I’ve got a friend who had a little run-in. Need her checked out . . . Yep, my place over on Hudson. See you in thirty minutes.”

I doze in and out of consciousness on the ride to Ian’s loft. “What were you thinking that day?” I ask during one of my lucid moments.

“Which day, bunny?” He’s holding me on his lap with one hand propped against my head and the other running lightly over my outer thigh. It’s really nice.

“When your snake camera was looking at me. It scared me.”

“I was thinking that you looked regretful that you were leaving the box and about how much I’d enjoy bringing it back to you.”

“You’re always so sure of yourself,” I whisper.

“Yes, but you are too, Tiny, or we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“Right,” I nod and then stop because that hurts. “You want to think for me. Sounds like a great plan.”

“Let’s wait to have this discussion when your head isn’t banged up, because you’re saying things right now that you might regret.”

“You’re big on the no regrets thing.”

“When it matters.”

I don’t remember being carried up the stairs and into the loft, but a bright light in my eyes wakes me up.

“Ow.” The pinpoint light is directed right at my eyeballs. I bat at it but someone takes my hands and folds them in his.

“Tiny,” Ian says. “There’s a doctor here. He’s checking you out.”

“Does he have to blind me while he’s at it? I thought they took an oath to do no harm.” He doesn’t resist when I pull my hands down, but I don’t try to hit the doctor either. Not even when he presses into my ribs, causing a hiss of pain to release.