Page 42 of The Rebel Billionaire

"Stay just like that," I said when I found her sitting in the same position. "I need to clean your faceagain."

Unzipping my first aid kit, I grabbed the disinfectant spray, antibacterial ointment, and a band-aid for hertemple.

"What the hell do you have in there?" Charlieasked.

I followed her glance to my kit. I was so used to it that the size didn't seem weird. To a civilian, it must've looked like seriousoverkill.

The size of a small duffel bag, it had everything I needed to handle almost any injury. I'd trained in the Army as a field medic, among other things, and my skills had grown out of necessity in the yearssince.

I tried to answer her question without freakingherout.

"Just stuff. Band-aids, antibacterial spray, ointment, butterfly bandages, sutures.Stuff."

I could tell by the piercing look she gave me that Charlie wasn't buying my explanation, but shedidn'tpush.

Quietly, she let me spread ointment on her cheek and temple, then pull down the shoulder of her T-shirt to check forbruising.

Her eyelids drooped. Between the adrenaline crash after the attack and her full stomach, I knew she was ready topassout.

I got two ibuprofens out of the kit and handed them to her. The low hum of a car engine pulled up to thehouse.

"Take these and meet me in the kitchen," I said. "Brennanishere."

CHAPTERTEN

LUCAS

Brennan hadhis hand raised to knock on the door when I swung it open. He looked the same as always—button-down shirt, blazer, tie a little loose. His dark brown hair hung a fraction too long and always slightly out ofplace.

Friendly brown eyes disguised a sharp brain. I'd seen Detective Ryan Brennan at five a.m., five p.m., and every time in between. He was alwaysthesame.

I could've pulled him from his desk or from his bed and it wouldn't matter. I didn't trust many people, but Ryan Brennan was on myshortlist.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" he asked in a low tone. Charlie stepped out of the hall and into the kitchen, the overhead light harsh, glaring down on the raw wounds on the side ofherface.

"Holy shit," Brennan said. "You're in it this time,Jackson."

"Charlie Winters," I said, crossing the room to stand beside Charlie. "This is Detective Ryan Brennan. You tell him what happened, and he'll get it onrecord."

Charlie looked up at me with startled eyes. I couldn't stop myself from tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear so it didn't get caught in the ointment on hercheek.

"You're sure I can trust him?" Shewhispered.

"I'msure."

Charlie shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans and told Brennan everything that had happened, including the cigarette butt she'd found by the back door and the intruder she'd thought she'dimagined.

That revelation had me fighting for control of my temper, but I managed to keep my mouth shut. She was under enough stress as it was. I wasn't going to make itworse.

As she spoke, she leaned into me, letting me support her weight. I wrapped an arm around her, ignoring Brennan'scuriouseyes.

He took notes and assured Charlie no one would find out anything unless it became unavoidable. As soon as they were done, I sent Charlie to get ready for bed and walkedBrennanout.

"So, is she a job?" Brennan asked beforeheleft.

"Next-door neighbor," I answered, deliberately leaving out thedetails.

Brennan met my eyes with a knowing look and staredmedown.