45

Tom smiled to himself as he heard the familiar sound of his ringtone buzzing from his pocket. He frowned when he saw it was not Ariella—the cute Swedish healer from his guild—but Damien.

After doing a project with the goth kid, he hadn't bothered to remove his number but never guessed that Damien might call him out of the blue like this.

"Hello?" Tom asked without hiding the confusion in his voice.

"Tom, I need you to listen to me and not ask your usual 20 questions, okay? I'm out of town, and Sienna just called me from the inside of Adrian's wardrobe. She's claustrophobic, so you need to nip over there and get her out. Got it?"

As Damien spoke the words went into Tom's brain and made a certain degree of sense, but unfortunately—he had questions.

"Huh?" He muttered. "What? Why?"

He could sense Damien's stifled but angry sigh.

"Tom. I'm out of town or I'd go round there myself. You are the only contact in my phone who lives close to Adrian and knows where he lives. Go over there. Go into Adrian's room and rescue the girl in the closet. He's abusing her and you need to swallow all your questions and just be a hero, okay?"

"O--okay... I—I'll go."

Tom hung up despite having further questions. If he didn't 'swallow them,' as Damien put it, he got the feeling the angry goth boy might just strangle him next time they met. For some reason, this mental image gave him a chill down his spine. 'A goose just just walked over your grave,' his grandmother would always say. Until now, he hadn't understood what she meant.

He walked into his sneakers, shoving them onto his feet in two swift movements before flying out of the door and down the street.

His feelings toward Sienna were complex, but the thought of Adrian hurting her the way he'd hurt Tom's back filled him with a fiery protective rage. She was a tiny little thing of a girl—slight and petite. Her small frame conjured images of those tiny sparrows when he pictured her. How could anyone want to hurt something so small and delicate?

After flirting with Scarlett to get close to Sienna, he'd ended up falling for Scarlett instead. The annoying thing was, once he'd stopped trying with Sienna, she decided she liked him. The whole thing had been such a mess and Tom had come off looking and feeling like an asshole.

Yes—he probably was the asshole in that situation—but it was hard to admit as much in the heat of the argument. Looking back, he wished he'd been more careful. Seeing two girls at once was much easier when one of them lived overseas.

As he jogged up the street, he imagined with Adrian might be doing to her and broke out into a sprint. He was out of breath as he reached the front door and was almost glad for the short pause after knocking. Taking deep breaths, he leaned on the door until he got his breath back.

When he realised nobody was coming to answer he tried the handle. The cold brass knob turned easily so he pulled it open and went inside, not bothering to close the door behind him. Taking two steps at a time he raced toward Adrian's room and burst in without bothering to knock.

It was only when he was inside the room, face to face with a confused looking Adrian that he questioned whether Damien might have been lying. This question was answered when he heard a muffled cry and his eyes flitted over to the rope keeping the wardrobe closed. With no further hesitation, he leapt over the bed and pulled the restraint from the two wooden handles.

As soon as he pulled it open a naked and bloody Sienna was in his arms, shaking like a frightened animal.

"Oh my God," he muttered.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Adrian demanded to know. It wasn't until Adrian stood, stretched to his full height, and pinning him with a dark glare that his fear of the boy took over.

Being young and athletic, Tom wasn't afraid of much. But Adrian wasn't an ordinary boy—Tom had learned this much over the past few weeks of interactions with him. What had started out as hero worship and admiration had quickly descended into fear and loathing.

How, seeing the look in those dark eyes, he feared for his own safety as much as Sienna's. Still—he'd never leave her. He was a man, and men didn't abandon a woman in danger. If the movies had taught him nothing else in life, it was that only a weaselly coward would leave a damsel in distress.

"Th—this ain't right, Man," he muttered, unsure what to say. "I—I'm taking her home. Okay?"

"Not okay," Adrian growled.

He hadn't noticed Scarlett come through the door and up the stairs until she spoke.

"Take her home," Scarlett said.

Tom glanced at her and did a double take when he noticed she was wearing nothing but a man's coat with wet, dangly hair covering her face.

When she took a step forward, shielding him from the scary Adrian, it was Tom who felt the damsel being rescued. Something about her poise was foreboding, and she seemed to have subdued her wicked stepbrother. He felt relieved and grateful that she'd arrived when she did.

"Here." Scarlett bent and picked up the clothes from the floor. Keeping her eyes trained on Adrian the entire time, she passed the bundle of fabrics back to Tom. "Dress her and get her home, Tom."

"R—right." Tom nodded.

He carried the trembling girl in his arms to the living room sofa and passed her the clothes. She seemed to be in a dream for a moment before turning to him with a disappointed pout.

"You're not Damien," she said matter-of-factly.

"No." Tom laughed. "Damien sent me. He's away... somewhere."

"Where?" Sienna asked.

He couldn't remember if Damien had said where he was or why. It didn't important at the time.

Tom shrugged. "I dunno. It doesn't matter. All that matters is you're safe now."

Sienna's face fell as she hugged herself. "I want Damien."

Feeling awkward and worthless—something he didn't experience often—Tom encouraged her to get dressed.

"Come on, I'll get you a taxi home."