-The Present-

I RAN.

The second the guy stepped away, I bolted to Gil’s unconscious form and fell to his side. “Don’t you dare come near us again,” I hissed, cradling Gil’s head on my lap, my knees on fire from skidding on gravel, my heart a drum in every extremity.

The guy shook out his sore knuckles from punching the one person I’d do anything for. “There’s that dangerous word again.” He grinned. “Us.”

“Fuck off,” I spat.

I didn’t care that he might try to kidnap me again. I didn’t stop to think about my safety. All I cared about was helping the boy I’d always helped. Patching up his wounds and repairing his injuries. The boy who’d always helped me in return.

This was a role I was used to.

This was a man I would defend until the end.

“I’d be careful if I were you, sweetheart.” The guy backed toward his vehicle. “Those associated with Gilbert always have a habit of getting hurt.” Blowing me a kiss and looking at Gil with a sneer, he chuckled. “I’ll be seeing ya.”

Turning his back on both of us, he swaggered to his van, slammed the door, and drove off with a squeal of tyres, kicking up dust and a swirl of exhaust.

I didn’t move until the van vanished at the bottom of the warehouse driveway, turning into traffic and leaving us alone.

Bastard.

My gaze dropped to Gil’s slack, blood-smeared face. “Gil.” Brushing his messy, dark hair from his eyes, I expected a fierce command to stop touching him. A snap to leave. A grumpy slur asking why I’d disobeyed him. Again.

But he didn’t move.

And that terrified me worse than any shout he could deliver.

I stroked his stubble-covered cheek. “Come on. He’s gone. Let’s get inside.”

Still no response.

His body lay sprawled on the ground. One arm covered his chest while the other lay awkwardly beneath him.

“Gilbert...” I rocked his shoulder gently, looking up to see if anyone working in the neighbouring warehouses had seen and could offer aid.

At no point did I think about leaving. I could never in good conscious walk away from Gil even if he didn’t want me in his life. Even if he’d told me in no uncertain terms to stay away.

I’d been the only one he’d trusted to nurse him.

That probably hadn’t changed.

“Why did you let him beat you up for goodness’ sake?” I brushed his arm away, exposing his throat, searching for a pulse. I struggled with unhappiness, not able to accept mindless violence or acts of stupidity.

And this was both.

Gil had been so stupid to allow such a thing. No reason on earth could justify letting someone beat you unconscious.

My thumb found his pulse, relief shooting through me.

“Why didn’t you fight back, huh?” I whispered, running my finger over his bottom lip, checking he still breathed, not quite trusting the throb of blood in his veins.  “Was he the one who hurt you the first day I came here?”

I knew my questions would remain unanswered but my voice seemed to soothe him.

The tension in his body faded. His chest rose and fell with a deeper breath.

“Are you in some sort of trouble, Gil?” I kneaded his shoulder, doing my best to wake him gently. “What are you involved in? Why are you so determined to make me hate you, all while I know you don’t...not truly.”

If I truly believed in the icy monster he did his best to portray, my heart wouldn’t prod me to stay. It would accept the truth and move on. But Gil was hiding something. Something scary and secretive and the weight was too much for him to bear.

“Come on, time to wake up.” I bent and brushed away a piece of gravel on his forehead. “Please, open your eyes.”

He moaned under his breath.

My stomach knotted with heavier relief.

Once again, I felt that string. Knitting together, doing its best to tie its broken ends back together again.

As much as Gil would like to deny it, an unbreakable chain bound us.

It always had.

Ever since we’d stood in that school corridor and I’d told him the truth about my parents, I’d been tied to him.

He hadn’t judged me.

He hadn’t pitied me.

He’d just shrugged as if it didn’t matter. Like I was strong enough to survive without them because he was now my friend.

He’d saved me then.

And he saved me now.

If he hadn’t come out, I’d probably be gagged and trussed in the back of the van heading to who the hell knew where.

He’d rescued me reluctantly.

It was my turn to repay the favour and save him.

“I’ll give you another minute.” Placing his head carefully on the ground, I climbed to my feet and quickly gathered up my belongings scattered on the ground. Shoving them into my handbag, I used my phone to email myself the license plate of the van before my memory played tricks on me.

I didn’t care what arrangement Gil had with him. That guy was a menace and deserved to rot in jail.

With the email sent, I slipped my phone into my bag, checked that the envelope with Gil’s cash was still inside, and headed back toward him.

He didn’t move as I ducked to my haunches and pressed shaking fingertips to his temple, running my fingers through his hair.

So soft.

So warm.

So real and familiar and alive.

I swallowed back another wash of untenable heartache. I missed touching him. I missed having that privilege.

My touch roused him enough for him to groan. Licking his lips and the blood staining them, he moaned as pain took over.

“Hey, I’m here. You’re okay.”

He pushed off from the ground, his forehead furrowed. I helped him into a sitting position, wedging my shoulder under his arm. “Come on. We need to get inside.”

“Wh-what are you still doing...here?” he grunted, testing parts of his bruised body as he clambered to his feet. He tried not to put weight on me, but he swayed and shook his head, giving me a chance to wrap an arm around his waist.

He was solid and strong, and my heart skipped a beat.

His eyes narrowed once the vertigo left him. “Don’t touch me, O. I told you to go.”

“Yet I’m still here.”

“A blatant disregard of my command.”

“I’m helping you.”

“I don’t want your help. How many times do I need to tell you?”

“Too bad. You’ve got it.” Tugging him in the direction of his warehouse, my temper steadily rose. My question wasn’t so gentle this time. “What were you thinking, huh?”

He didn’t reply, half trying to shove me away, half doing his best not to show he needed my support.

“You wouldn’t understand.” His legs were stable, even if his mind still swam with unbalance, and it didn’t take long to step through the pedestrian access and close the door behind us.

“Try me. I might understand more than you think.”

“I already know you can’t.” He winced, rubbing his belly where that arsehole’s foot had connected.

The familiar warehouse welcomed me back as I walked its painting master over the large work area, unsure where to take him. “Do you have a bed here?”

“None of your business.”

I shook him. “Answer me. The sooner I find you something soft to rest on, the sooner I can leave.”

“As if that will ever happen.”

I pinched his side. “Save your energy for healing, not answering back.”

His eyebrows settled low over frustrated eyes. “I have a small apartment in the back.” He pointed the way with a tilt of his head. “Through the office.”

“See? Was that so hard?”

He huffed, dark and miserable. “Harder than you’ll ever know.” He looked away, not letting me catch his gaze.

My heart beat painfully as I held him tight, and we shuffled through his office together. Papers scattered the only desk. No chair. No filing cabinets. His method of records archaic.

Reaching the door to his apartment, he froze. His hand landed on my shoulder, pushing me resolutely away. “I’m not an invalid.”