She opened her mouth, no doubt to argue, but seemed to think better of it and closed it again. She flipped the dead bolt on the back door and pointed to her kitchen table. “Sit. I’ll check the locks, but then I need to get you cleaned up. And I want to know what the hell is going on.” Turning, she walked from the kitchen toward the front of the house, and I noticed she wore only an oversized Tshirt and panties. Nice.
I flipped the safety on and lay the gun on the table before pressing a palm to my eyebrow. I hadn’t felt the pain from the hit, adrenaline dulling everything but my need to take the guy out, but now it hurt like a son of a bitch and bled even worse.
Scarlett reappeared with a bottle of alcohol, some cotton balls, and some gauze. “Now, tell me what the hell that was.” She sat next to me and grabbed my chin, pulling my face toward hers. “Move your hand.”
I did as instructed, and she wrinkled her nose as she perused the cut. “This is going to sting.” She doused a cotton ball in alcohol and dabbed it on the wound. “Now, talk.”
I growled and gritted my teeth.
“Big baby.” She wiped across the cut and dropped the bloodied cotton on the table.
“A man followed you home. I followed him. He watched you through your window.”
Her hand stilled and she stared at me. “Go on.”
“I think he was sent here to hurt you, maybe kill you.” I tapped the gun. “He came with this.”
The color drained from her face. “We should call the police.”
“Carey said not to do that.” I covered her hand with mine.
She looked over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “What if he comes back? Let’s just go to the police station.”
“Look, we can go to the police, give them a statement and a description, but where would that get us? I didn’t see his face. I have no clue who he is or who sent him. All we have is his gun, and I’d bet good money—” I picked it up and flipped it over, inspecting it. “—yeah, the serial number’s been filed off. We got nothing to go on. I’ve got a better idea.” I put the gun back down and ran my hand across her cheek. I never wanted her to be afraid. “We’ll go to my place, and I’ll call some old clients of mine.”
“What good will that do?” She leaned away from my hand and ripped open a package of gauze. Her hands shook and I took them both in mine.
“Scarlett. I’ll keep you safe. I promise. Okay?”
She met my gaze and nodded. “You already did. If you hadn’t followed him . . .” She trailed off and her eyes watered.
“Don’t think about that.” I squeezed her fingers. “Just fix up my ugly mug, pack up a few things, and we’ll head to my house. We’ll get it all sorted from there. But we need to let Carey know what’s going on. Do you have your laptop?”
She rose, pulling her hands from mine, and dug around in her bag on the counter. Her house was clean, with a small kitchen that had been updated with granite and stainless. She pulled out the laptop and sat back down.
I flipped it open and clicked on the chat window as she dabbed at my cut again. The sting was nothing short of a bitch, but I ignored it and typed in the black box.
Gorepheus, we got trouble. ~K
I hit enter and the green letters morphed into unrecognizable symbols mixed with numbers and then disappeared.
Scarlett pressed some gauze to my forehead and taped it in place. “That’s the best I can do. There’s a good reason I went to law school instead of med school.”
“I’m sure it’ll do just fine.” I resisted the urge to touch it.
She leaned over to see the screen. “Did he answer?”
“Not yet. Go get your things.” I scooted my chair back so I could watch down the hall. “Stay where I can see you. I’ll wait for him to reply.”
She stood and headed toward her bedroom.
“Thanks, by the way.” I pointed at my eyebrow. “For this.”
“Anytime.” She gave me a small smile.
A line of text appeared in the black box, the symbols and numbers telling me nothing until they changed into actual words after a few seconds.
What happened? ~ G
A man followed Scarlett home. He had a gun. I stopped him, but he got away. I’m going to take her somewhere safe. Are you okay? ~ K
Don’t worry about me. I can stay hidden. Get to safety, and don’t contact anyone that you don’t trust implicitly. No police. I’ve gotten a few responses to my feelers, but I still haven’t heard the final word on who ordered the breach. The things I’ve heard so far are not comforting, to say the least. When I get confirmation, we’ll know who’s out to get us. ~G