Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Lucas

I hated this place even more than the apartment Imogen shared with her ex. It was empty and clean, albeit stinking of bleach, but still. I'd looked over at the guys as we climbed the stairs, seeing all the security issues.

They'd fitted an internal door to the front, rather than a proper solid-wood one. One good punch and an intruder would put his fist through it. Once she was inside and I'd set the boxes I was carrying down, I'd closed the door behind us, rattling the lock experimentally. It was weakly attached and old, easy to smash with a sledgehammer. The windows had simple plastic clasps that could be popped with little effort, and there was absolutely no security system.

It was not fit for my mate to live in.

I was ready to say something to that effect, to tell her I'd replace the door, install a ring camera and movement sensors outside every window as I did for any of our security clients, when I saw her face.

She was beautiful, that had hit me like a gut punch when I saw her. That cloud of dark brown hair that hung around her face, her slender form graceful even when she was scared, but it was her eyes that caught my attention now. They were wide open and filled with something that had been missing since the moment we met.

Joy.

She was excited to be in this dump, and I could see why. Empty, clean, it was everything her old place wasn't. The bear wanted to take fur and rampage all the way back to the campsite, not to romp in the woods, but to tear that prick apart. That was the boyfriend who lunged at our car. Those stupid, unseeing eyes, that slack mouth, that lurching gait, it'd made me wonder how the fuck he'd ever caught a girl like Imogen.

But I knew.

That wasn't the face he showed her when they first got together. He wouldn't have allowed his house to fester like it did now in the early days. These men were wily, instinctively knowing exactly what they had to do to lure in the bang maid they so desperately needed. He would've love bombed her to hell and back, and when he had her fragile, little heart in his grip, he'd finally be able to relax and let the mask slip. She'd have stood there, aghast, just as she had when we were at her old place. She wouldn't have wanted to believe it, right up until the point she did.

Her heart was aching, I was pretty sure of that. I'd seen women and children go through it over and over again when they walked through our headquarters' doors. It was part of the reason I hid myself away in the IT department, so I didn't see it. Because right now my own heart ached, for Imogen, for what she felt. She wanted to believe so badly that she was free and clear of all that grimy shit.

So I had to make sure she was.

Get her moved in tonight, make sure she was comfortable, and then we'd broach the matter of security in the morning. I caught Asher's eyes, seeing that he had similar thoughts.

"OK, so where did you want us to start?" I asked our mate.

"Oh…"

She was tired. I was willing to bet she'd had a long day at work and then an even longer one with this shit. Never again, I vowed.

"Maybe we should just stack the boxes in the corner?" Kyle asked her, shooting me a meaningful look, as if to make sure I understood how overwhelmed she was. "You can tackle them when you're ready."

"I'll bring up the duffle bag," I said. When her eyes locked with mine, I couldn't help but stare. "It's got the clothes you need for tomorrow, some sheets for your bed."

"How do you know that?"

Her eyes narrowed because right now, Imogen was on edge. She'd done the thing she thought wasn't possible and some animal part of her refused to allow herself to be conned again.

"Because its what a lot of women do," I replied, drawing closer but not too close. Every muscle in her body tensed. "Some have a go bag, some make one, but there seems to be something in women's minds. They know they're getting out and they know what they need to take when they do. It's what tells them they're ready. You're ready to start a new life."

"Yes." I sucked in that look, pleasure threatening to flicker back to life but she smothered it, seeming to realise she had an audience. "Please. I mean, I'll come and grab?—"

"Take a seat." Asher was never able to tell someone something without it becoming an order. "Or check out your new place. A shower…" He flushed, realising that was a little forward. "We've got this, Imogen. Trust me, things will go quicker if you let us handle this."

That last bit seemed to put her off, so she nodded and then walked into the bedroom. Kyle and I looked at each other. Imogen needed gentleness right now—did Asher have that in him? Only time would tell. As one we headed for the stairs, returning to the car to haul boxes upstairs.

I sucked in a breath, then another as my hands slapped down on the side of the car. Fur came unbidden, covering my arms and then retreating as I focussed on maintaining control. The bear didn't like that we'd walked away from Imogen. He saw all the same threats I did, and more beside, and couldn't be convinced that we needed to leave her once this job was done.

So I wouldn't.

We'd staked out places more than once, hence the high-end car. Roll back the seat and you had a semi-comfortable bed. I'd hang around out the front of her apartment block, just to assess the risks.

"You and me both," Kyle said when I broached this with the others.

"We can't all stake the place out." Asher paced back and forth. "And coming across us sleeping in her driveway might be a little off-putting. Imogen is scared." He wasn't telling us something we didn't know, but it was worth reiterating. "We need to be fucking careful not to scare her further. I'm calling in the foxes."

Most bears had nothing to do with the fox shifter community. They were seen to be dirty, thieving vermin rather than fellow shifters. The thing was, for the right money, they could provide a very useful service. Feral fox colonies had developed all over the city, and some of them were run by shifters. They had eyes and ears on everyone and everything, especially in the shittier parts of town.

"I'm still staying." I dared each one of them to contradict me with my gaze, satisfied only when they both shook their heads in surrender.

"I'll call Ursula, have her send out another car for pick up," Asher said. "You start with the boxes and I'll be up shortly."

That settled, Kyle and I moved, loading up boxes high, the weight barely perceptible with our shifter strength.

"It fucking sucks what Imogen is going through," he said in a low voice as we walked towards the steps. "I hate that we found her right as she was breaking up with that dickhead, but…"

What if we hadn't arrived when we did? What did Phil intend to do to her? Nothing good, the viciousness of his response making clear his motivations. All I could see was Mary and her two kids when they'd walked in our door. Claws punctured the boxes, much to my chagrin, because right then it was Imogen's distraught face I saw, not Mary's. The bear roared his denial of that. I shook my head, taking a moment to regain control and then climbed the stairs.

Nothing would touch my girl, nothing. I'd take fur, unleashing hell on whoever tried, and damn the consequences. Every day I got up to help abuse victims because it was the right thing to do, but now… My fangs ground together. Now it was personal.