Touch And Go - Aiden Bates Page 0,25

a quid pro quo. Bullshit.

Suddenly aware I really was free to go if I chose to, I took a proper look at the place. High ceilings with exposed beams crossed overhead and would have made the open-plan layout feel like a sterile museum if it weren’t for the cozy, oversized couches and armchairs, the thick pile rugs, and sculptural knick-knacks on every flat surface. It felt like a home…like a real grown-up home. Not at all like my rundown depressing shithole of an apartment.

Derek took his hand off my shoulder and swept his arm in a small arc. “This is the Vanguard Tower. I had my brother follow you, and given the whole armed gunman thing, he thought it was best to bring you back here.”

That cleared up some of it. “Your brother, huh?” I raised my eyebrows. “I told him I didn’t believe it. You look nothing alike.”

He shrugged. “None of us do. Except for the twins.”

“Wait, what? That wall of muscle… They’re all your brothers?”

“That’s right.” He pinched his lips tight, so his thick pout turned white, then flooded pink when he parted them again. “We’ve been through a lot together, and we pay it forward, which is why I thought it would be a good idea for Eli to keep an eye on you.”

I scoffed and ran my hand over the tight weave of the nearby armchair. I didn’t need rescuing…but I also liked having someone looking out for me, rather than just tolerating me. I wondered if that kind of watchdog dynamic existed between Derek and his brothers, too—so different to how Big Ben related to me, and a little bubble of jealousy popped in my stomach. Derek had seven brothers who seemed to care about him.

He lowered his voice in that caring doctor-y way again that made my belly feel warm. “I’m sorry if Eli hurt you. I just want to offer to help, and it seems like you could use some.”

I picked at a piece of lint caught in the fibers of the chair. He sounded genuine, and when I looked up and caught his eye, he reminded me of a Labrador—earnest, sweet, and stubborn.

But I wanted nothing to do with it. My mind was in chaos, and I didn’t trust myself enough to trust him. Exhausted, probably still concussed, and spinning—I couldn’t tell what was real or fake, a lie from the truth, if I was in any real danger, or if my own brother had tried to kill me.

I slumped against the back of the chair and let out a low sigh, pinched the bridge of my nose, and my wrist pulsed with pain. Ben was related to all of this. Had to be. But I couldn’t figure out how. I didn’t think he’d try to hurt me or send anyone after me, but all the threads of every piece of information I had led back to him. He was the last person I’d seen before I woke up in the hospital, half-drowned and almost dead, and he was the last person in my apartment before it was ransacked.

Half of me was worried Ben was in just as much trouble as I was, and it was all a huge mistake. But there was no mistaking what I’d seen on his laptop, or the way he’d reacted. At best, he was guilty of embezzlement, so I had to wonder what else he was capable of. Hurting me? Throwing me off a bridge? Sending a goon with a gun to my apartment?

“Hey. You’re okay.”

Derek squeezed my shoulder, and I realized I was breathing heavily.

“Shit. Sorry.”

He pointed a soft, concerned gaze into mine. “It’s okay, it’s fine. You get panic attacks?”

My eyes rested on the open button of his shirt and the chest hair poking through the fold of fabric. I counted my breaths. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

I let his touch ground me, but I couldn’t shake the confusion. Why the hell would someone like Derek—an accomplished and respected doctor—want to help me, a recent graduate with no real job, who was suddenly effectively homeless?

I could hear Ben’s laughter in my head. All of his prophecies about me being worthless were coming true. Maybe they’d always been true.

My breath caught again. Rasped out.

“Do you want to sit down?” He guided me toward the sofa.

My head throbbed, my stomach churned, and my whole body ached. I needed more than to sit down. I needed to sleep for about three solid days. “I should…go.”

“Wait.” His hands fluttered as he