Chapter Five
~Cyrus~
“Call the police,” I told Abigail as I crouched over the prone man on the ground.
She took out her cell and I could hear her talking to the dispatcher through her choked tears. I wanted to comfort her, but I had to make sure this guy didn’t get away before the cops could get there to take him to jail.
I pulled a zip tie from my back pocket and secured the douchebag’s hands behind his back before hauling him to his feet and forcing him over to the wall. I pushed him to his ass so he could lean against the brick.
When I turned back to face Abigail she threw herself into my arms, her whole body still shaking from her fear and adrenaline crash.
I ran my hands over her hair and made useless shushing sounds as I held her, trying to help her calm down.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked. “Did he hurt you?”
She shook her head, her hair flying into my face as she did.
“Talk to me,” I whispered.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Thank God you were here.” She sniffed and looked up at me. “You’re my hero.”
“It’s my job,” I said, shrugging.
“Being a hero?” she asked, laughing gently.
“Keeping you safe,” I clarified. “I would never let anything happen to you.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I was actually just walking by,” I said honestly. I’d stopped to grab dinner at the diner up the street and literally was in the right place at the right time.
The man against the wall groaned and I kissed Abigail’s forehead before walking over to him. I dropped into a crouch and stared at him.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said. He licked a drop of blood from his split lip and smiled up at me. “I get it. You don’t work for Diablo. You just wanted the bitch for yourself.”
“Go to sleep now,” I said. I popped my fist out and it slammed against his jaw.
His head rocked to the side and his body slumped as he fell unconscious again.
“Cyrus!” Abigail exclaimed.
“What?” I asked, shaking my hand as it tingled from the impact and getting to my feet again.
“What did he mean?” she asked, her brows knitting together.
“He’s crazy,” I reminded her.
“No.” She shook her head. “Did you talk to him earlier?”
“Maybe,” I said. I blew out a sigh. “Yeah. Okay. I did.”
“You told him not to go out with me?”
“I told him you canceled your date with him the other night,” I admitted.
“Do you do that a lot?” she challenged, stepping closer to me.
“Define a lot,” I said.