Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Lucas

I hated this. I fucking hated every second of this morning, and part of me was desperate for it to end. Imogen had strode up the stairs with a head full of steam, then… It was like she was collapsing in on herself the minute she got through the front door. The cleaners and their clinical-looking overalls, the stink of the chemicals, the wreckage of the door frame, our door and locks still pristine, but worse, it was the stink of him.

That fucking arsehole had violated our mate's space.

He obviously didn't see Imogen's fragility, the way she worked so hard to construct a space all her own. He didn't know how long she'd been working towards this very goal. That even though the place was old and shitty, it was perfect to her because it was hers. But it was the sound in her throat, low and keening, at the sight of her books that broke my heart. I knew the sound of loss when I heard it. It's why I avoided the intake interviews, when new clients were admitted to headquarters, because I couldn't take it. It was like other people's pain became mine. Tearing at me with razor-sharp claws, chewing chunks from me with powerful jaws, it threatened to eat me alive, but I couldn't back away from this. I stepped forward, mentally recording the name of each book, right as she made the call.

"Whaddya mean?" She didn't have the phone on speakerphone, but I heard the nasally sneer of Mike's voice loud and clear. "Phil didn't do anything."

"Phil…?" I was so proud of the poison in her tone. "I didn't say it was Phil."

"Had to be, didn't it? I knew you were a fucking bitch, Imo, but?—"

"Imogen." She barked out her name like a drill sergeant. "You don't get to call me that anymore."

"Well, Imogen." He sneered her name, right when I wanted to say it over and over like some kind of prayer. "You pressed charges against Phil. He's on bail because of some dumb shit with his wife."

When my hands clenched into fists, I saw the others did the same, because that ‘dumb shit'? It involved splitting his son's lip, leaving a nasty array of bruises all across one side of his face.

"You didn't need to get him in trouble with the cops," Mike continued. "He's a good bloke, standing up for me while you slut around?—"

I was crossing the floor, snatching the phone out of her hand before I even thought about it. Regret rushed through me at her shocked expression, but I put the phone to my ear.

"Look you pus-filled boil on the arse of society," I said, cutting him off. "Your mate beat a child black and blue and had been doing the same to his wife for years. If that's the kind of person that you call ‘friend,' I look forward to all the shitty things that will happen to you when you no doubt join him in jail if you're hiding him right now."

Mike's breath was coming too hard, too fast.

"Stay the fuck away from Imogen," Lucas snapped. "Make sure your ‘mates' do the same."

"Or what?"

That might've sounded tough if I didn't catch the thready note of bravado in his tone.

"Or you'll find out exactly what happens to men that mess with women we protect."

I stabbed a finger to end the call then held the device out. Kyle took it back with a raised eyebrow, no doubt wanting to ask all the questions about what was going on in my head right now but unable to with an audience.

"Let the cleaners finish their work," Asher told Imogen. "They'll have the place looking like new before they're done." His brows jerked down as he stared at the door frame. "Better than new. The frame will be replaced and the door rehung, but…" He was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear, we all knew that. "Until Phil is found, you need to stay somewhere we can keep you safe."

"But work…"

Her protest was thin. Even she could see the wisdom of what he was saying.

"We can contact your duty manager for you," he replied smoothly. "I gave Jade my number and she already has someone ready to cover your shifts."

"But…"

She wanted to fight this, fight the reality of what she was seeing, and that's when I knew just how strong she was. Imogen didn't want to lie down and just accept the shit dealt to her, but she couldn't change this.

I could fix one thing for her though.

"Show me the covers of the books that have been damaged," I told her. "I can find replacements."

"You can't." She swayed slightly and I moved forward, stabilising her with a hand on her back. "You can't. A lot of these books are out of print now."

"You don't like e-readers?" I asked.

"Paper." She shot me a helpless smile. "I like paper. The feel of it, the smell…"

Her eyes filled with tears and I pulled her close, not even caring that we were supposed to be taking things slow. I couldn't let the one woman I'd love suffer through this alone. Hot tears stained my shirt as my hand moved in slow circles, trying to soothe her through this.

"Trust me, if something can be found on the internet, I'll be able to locate it," I assured her.

"Luc is the king of the geeks," Kyle said with a weak smile. "You should see him dressed up in cosplay."

"Cosplay?"

She peeled her face away from me and stared into my eyes.

"Not cosplay. LARP." I swallowed hard, realising this wasn't the time. "But yeah, I have magic fingers." I wriggled them in the air, miming them flying across a keyboard. "Every book that's damaged, I'll replace, I promise."

I'd scour every secondhand book site on the internet, and if they couldn't be found, then print-on-demand sites you could. Hell, I'd approach authors directly and see if I could pay to have copies printed if that's what it took.

Anything for my girl.

I felt her arms tighten around me for just a second, then she pulled away, self-consciously wiping away her tears.

"Thanks. I don't expect you to do that obviously, but…" Her eyes met mine and I saw there a hunger, to be understood, to find rapport with someone who knew what this loss meant to her. I had a stash of comics I kept very carefully in their archival sleeves, rarely pulling them out lest the acid in my fingers damage them. I knew all too well how it would feel to lose books. "I appreciate it. I guess we just go back…"

Home, she nearly said it and the bear roared his approval inside me. While I'd never want something like this to happen, if it brought us closer together, I would always treasure that.

"Go back to headquarters and I'll…" She frowned then, as if remembering something. "You said you wanted an in-house cook? I can't promise anything long term, but if I can't go to work, I may as well do something."

"Put an order in for the supplies you need," Asher replied. "We'll have them delivered."

"Can some of them be burgers?" Kyle clasped his hands as if begging. "I'm damn good at cooking burgers and I haven't had one for ages. Some potato buns. Oh, and bacon and eggs with some beetroot."

"Wait until you taste my burgers," she said, daring to smile, but that was when a cleaner walked past, carrying a plastic bag filled with rubbish. The light in her eyes dimmed for just a moment, but she shook her head and stood tall. "There's a secret ingredient."

"Love?" Kyle asked with a cheeky grin.

"Olive oil and Worcestershire sauce," she replied, allowing herself to be steered towards the doorway.

The two of them compared notes while Asher and I followed behind, his eyes finding mine. Sometimes it felt like everything about our job sucked. People only came to us because they were hurting, and we did our best to make sure they left better, safer than when they first walked in through the door, but this situation? It was ten times more personal.

Fur prickled across my arms, there and gone again as we drove back to headquarters, but as soon as we got inside, I was off. Kyle was discussing the different food suppliers we had an account with and Asher handed him the company card to pay for it all, then he followed me into my sanctuary. My gaming rig and the server I used to centralise all our IT needs were all sitting there, lights gleaming in the darkness as we entered.

"Find those books." Another credit card was placed on the desk, his personal one, I think. "Find every single one of them. I don't care how much, or what it costs to get them expedited here, but do it. It wasn't her clothes or her documents, or even her cookware, she cared about in that apartment, it was those books." His eyes met mine. "Get our mate what she needs."

I clicked on the mouse, sitting back in my gaming chair, and then went to work.