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Angela sighed, moving closer to Claire. She had been correct: the younger woman stood about eight inches shorter than her. She was hobbit sized. “Claire, your ex is clearly a risk to you. Let me help.”
“No one can help,” Claire said, looking defeated. “I broke up with Robert six months ago. He’s been stalking me ever since. But he’s stepped up his game lately. He got me fired from my vet nursing job today, and my landlord kicked me out last week—thanks to Robert. I’m not safe anywhere.”
“You’d be safe here,” Angela stated. She closed her mouth with a snap. She hadn’t meant to say that but couldn’t deny it was true. Thankfully, Roman didn’t correct her, though she could feel his gaze boring into her back.
Claire faced her, looking hesitant. “Where is here exactly?”
“The Omertà complex in Civic,” Angela replied. “You said your landlord kicked you out. Where are you staying?”
“I’ve been staying on a friend’s couch,” Claire said, looking embarrassed. “I paid her. But now that I have no job...”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Abel declared. “I’ll hunt down Robert and tell you when it’s safe to leave.”
Angela wanted to throttle him. She could appreciate the sentiment—men who hit women were low on her list of people to save—but she didn’t think Claire needed to be subjected to Abel’s bloodthirsty ways. “Do you want to stay here?” she asked. When Claire looked at Abel and Roman apprehensively, Angela said, “Don’t worry about them. If you want to walk out of here, you can.”
“No. She can’t,” Abel snarled.
She shot him a dark look. “Was I talking to you, Abel?” When no reply was forthcoming, she raised an imperious brow. “Well? Was I?”
“No,” Abel ground out, hands fisted at his sides once more.
“That’s right. I was talking to Claire.” She turned back to the wide-eyed woman. “Ignore them.” She gestured to the two armed men at the door and the other two in the room. “They all know you can walk out of here with me if you want to.”
“Uh, no she can’t,” Roman spoke up.
Angela ignored him. “I know you don’t know me. And I know this is the last place you thought you would be when you woke up today. I’ve been there, trust me,” she added. “But you can take some time to rest. To heal. To formulate a plan. Then you can go back into the big bad world.”
Claire looked like she wanted to cry, but she sucked it up like a boss. “Would I truly be safe here?” she whispered.
Angela placed a comforting hand on her thin shoulder. “Claire, you would be safer here, with these men, than any other place on the planet.”
Claire let out a shaky breath. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
Angela squeezed her shoulder gently. “Good choice. Now, come on. I’ll do another medical check and then I’ll let Roman here set you up with a room—or six.”
The small chuckle that escaped Claire’s lips had Angela’s tense muscles relaxing in her back. As well as her stomach. She hadn’t been aware of show anxious she was until that moment. She wanted the young woman to be safe. If she had demanded to go, Angela would have kept her word and led her straight down to her car. Then she would have taken her to Sister Pip at Lighthouse. But Roman’s building was much safer.
It surprised her how much of an easy admission that was. And how much she believed it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It took four hours for Claire to get settled into a guest suite on the fifty-fifth floor. Angela knew that all the residential quarters were from floor fifty-five to fifty-nine. Claire wouldn’t have access to nearly all the floors like Angela did, but Robert getting in would be all but impossible.
“Thank you for doing this,” Angela said gratefully to Roman as they walked down the hallway in the direction of the elevator.
“I didn’t exactly get a choice,” Roman pointed out. “But you—and she—are welcome.”
Angela blushed. She had kind of steamrollered over him. “I guess I should apologize. I’m so used to making decisions in the operating room and having my instructions followed. But I know this is your home. I should have asked first.”
Roman hummed. “It’s fine. In fact, if you hadn’t convinced her to stay, I would have.” He shrugged. “She seems like a nice girl in a shitty situation. And it’s not like I don’t have the space.”
“She’s twenty-one,” Angela said, Claire having told her earlier. “Hardly a girl.”
“That’s one year younger than Luca. And he’s practically still a kid,” Roman stated.
Angela’s lips twitched. “A kid? He’s sleeping with one of your best friends,” she said, enjoying his disgruntled look.
Roman shuddered theatrically. “Don’t remind me.”
