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Oh, God. They were here. They came to the hospital. They saw…Luke.
At once, I have to move quickly. I have to. I’m all frenzied movement and clumsy hands as I get into the car and start the engine.
Reckless driving is a big no for me, but I know I’m speeding and going easy on the breaks as I tear off for Luke’s penthouse.
When I pull into the parking garage, security greets me, and I’m barely able to hand him my swipe card.
I think we chat. I’m not sure. All I know is that after what feels like only the blink of an eye, I’m yanking the door open to the apartment.
Luke is at the island working, and he whips around, meeting me with a furrowed brow.
“Hey, doc.” He checks his watch. “I didn’t think you’d be home yet.”
“They…they…”
I’m frozen in the doorway. It’s not even closed.
Luke’s eyes go wide as he realizes I’m stammering. Faster than I thought possible, he crosses the room toward me, and then his hands are on my arms.
He walks me into the room, closing the door behind me and ushering me over to the couch.
“Hey.” Luke tucks my hair behind my ear. “What happened?”
“Um.” My hand goes to my shoulder, moving to hike up my purse out of habit, but I don’t feel the strap. “Wait. Where’s my bag?”
Luke smoothes his hand across my cheek and tangles his fingers into my hair, easing the chaos in my body.
“I put it by the door. You’re okay. Talk to me.”
I want to hold it together, be composed, but the armor I use to protect myself is cracking.
“They broke in again, and they went through my trash. The detective said they were looking for my location. What if they find me? Find you?”
My face is suddenly wet, my chest heaving, and I realize I'm crying.
“There was a note on my car. And at the nurse’s station. The police have nothing. What am I supposed to do? I’m risking you. I can’t have that. You’ve been…”
“Clara—” Luke has both his hands on my face now, and Christ, does he smell good “—don’t worry about me. All that matters is your safety. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Everything is too much. The scratchy weight of my scrubs, the touch of Luke’s hands, it’s all more than I can handle.
He’s just…
God, I don’t know. But I’m over all this. I’m too tired. I don’t want to fight against everything that happens to me when he’s close.
I don’t know if I can anymore.
“Why are you helping me? You barely know me.”
Luke’s comforting gaze falters, his eyes flicking to the empty few inches between us.
I can sense the restrained tension in his fingers, and he sighs heavily.
“I have to. I know how dangerous they are. I couldn’t live with myself if they hurt you when I could’ve stopped them.”
“Couldn’t live with yourself?”
Unaware of what I’m doing, I cup Luke’s cheek, the rough stubble brushing against my fingers.
