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Lucy couldn't watch him walk out of her flat again. Not after all he did for her, knuckles scuffed fighting his own.
“Fittes won’t stop until they have you,” Kipps said. “That won’t happen.”
How did they end up here? His jacket sleeve in her hand, one foot over the threshold, Lucy tugging him back into her bedroom. Her enemy turned friend turned…something else.
“They don’t care about you,” she told him, but Kipps already knew that. He stayed anyway.
“Who else is going to watch your back?”
Blood, scrapes, pain… for her. How can she live with it?