It did.
I hated feeling this way—weak and vulnerable. Was this all I was without the protection of my family around me? Reduced to a nobody left bleeding in an alleyway?
A sense of shame filled me, and that shame was only increased tenfold because of the man who’d saved me. I didn’t want help from a Wynter for anything, but it wasn’t as though I could have been picky. If he hadn’t come along, I didn’t want to think about what would have happened.
Jayden stood over me, his feet planted on the ground. I didn’t want to look at him, frightened to make eye contact, worried about what I might see in his eyes, or worse, what he might see in mine.
“You’re hurt,” he announced.
I lifted my hand and touched my temple. The contact stung. I remembered how the men had shoved me against the wall when they’d dragged me down here. The injury must have happened then. I wondered what other marks and bruises would reveal themselves over the next few hours or days. I pressed my thighs together, trying to expel the sensation of an unwelcome hand shoving between them.
Still, I didn’t say anything.
He leaned in closer. “Do you know who they were?”
I shook my head.
“Didn’t they know whoyouare?”
I found my voice. “No.” The word barely made a sound in the night, and I cleared my throat and tried again. “They weren’t from around here. I tried to tell them, but they didn’t believe me.”
“Shouldn’t you have someone with you?” He glanced around, as though expecting people to appear. “Where are your brothers? Where are your father’s men?”
I tugged down my skirt, doing my best to hide my legs. “They don’t know I’m here.”
“Why not?”
I remembered who I was and glared at him. “Because I don’t need my father and brothers knowing everything about my business.”
Aware I was still sitting huddled on the ground while he stood above me, I adjusted my position, planning to clamber back to my feet.
His gaze slipped down my body, and he raised an eyebrow. “Umm.”
I glanced down, and my cheeks coloured. “Oh, shit.”
The strap of my dress had torn, and the top had flapped down, revealing my left breast, right down to the areola. I snatched it back up, covering myself. “You don’t have to look,” I snapped.
“It was kind of hard not to. Nice tits, by the way.”
“Fuck off.”
He slid off his suit jacket and handed it to me. “Here. Cover yourself up.”
A part of me wanted to refuse him, to say I didn’t want anything from Jayden Wynter, but after what had just happened, I also didn’t want to walk through the city with my dress so obviously torn. I slipped the jacket on over the top of my dress and buttoned it up at the front. It was far too big for me, but I was grateful for that. I remembered leaving my house, checking out my figure-hugging dress in the full-length mirror by the front door before I’d left to go out, admiring the way it had shown off my legs and accentuated my curves. Now all I wanted was to hide, and the jacket provided me with the opportunity to do exactly that.
Jayden put his hand out to me to help me up. Reluctantly, I slipped my smaller palm into his far larger one. His skin was warm and dry, and the pressure around my fingers felt good. He helped me to my feet.
I wobbled on my five-hundred-quid Louboutin heels.
“Can you call a driver?” he asked. “Get someone to pick you up.”
My stomach sank. If I did that, I’d have to go home with a torn dress and bloodied face. While I no longer lived under my father’s roof, I had live-in staff who were on his payroll and who would report back that I’d come home in the early hours of the morning in a state. Then my father and brothers would demand to know what had happened, and I didn’t want to tell them.
He must have seen my hesitation. “You don’t want to go home?”
“If I go back looking like this, questions will be asked.”
“Okay,” he said slowly. “Is there someone else you can call? A girlfriend you can go and stay with, perhaps?”