“They just wanted silver,” she said softly. “I grew up in DC. I can take care of myself.”
“They wanted your wallet, and they wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt you. You’re not used to the rules here. It’s not safe for a young woman to be alone at night.”
Her back straightened a little.
“I’m capable of taking care of myself.”
“Hm.” I didn’t say anything else.
She didn’t seem to be badly hurt.
“Let me get you one of my shirts, something sleeveless so that nothing brushes your bruises.”
“Okay.”
I quickly left the bathroom and ran up the stairs to grab a shirt. I took one of my softest undershirts out of its package. I should’ve had my housekeeper unpack it when I ordered it, but I’d been too lazy.
I brought down the undershirt to her and she put it on. What fit my torso was very long on her. She was much smaller than I was. She looked very good in my clothing.
“Do you feel okay?”
She nodded.
“Just tired.”
“You can come upstairs and stay in my guest bedroom. I can check on you every hour.”
“Sounds good.”
She yawned.
We walked up the stairs, and I couldn’t stop myself from checking out the slow sway of her hips as she went up them.
I mentally kicked myself for checking her out. She was hurt. I should be focusing on making sure that she didn’t have a real concussion.
I opened the door to the guest room that was closest to mine.
“I’ll come by and check on you, okay? I’ll set a timer to wake me up every few hours.”
She yawned and leaned against the wall.
“Sure.”
She walked slowly into her room and closed the door.
I went to my own bedroom and changed into more comfortable clothing. I set an alarm on my phone to wake me up in two hours.
First Morning
Naelle
I rolled over, my mouth dry and my head pounding. A combination of being woken up frequently during the night and a small hangover made for a pretty bad morning.
I sniffed. Was that bacon?
Before I could even get out of bed, I heard the clatter of a plate on a tray.
There was a knock on my door.