When a line of overhead bulbs blinked on, Tuesday was shocked at the size of his apartment. One huge room, fifteen feet high with long floor-to-ceiling windows facing the river. As she turned around, she saw a messy desk the size of a bed, with two computers blinking at her. Along one brick wall were huge sheets of what looked like house plans taped in layers over more huge drawings.

His place reminded her of what a New York loft might look like. Gray and white. Clean. Nothing personal.

In a back corner, she noticed workout equipment, weights and barbells. The bay of the room was lean of furniture other than the desk, a bed, and a few stools.

“You really live here?” she asked as Ketch stumbled into the room. Lightning flashed across the windows as if putting on a show just for them.

“I did, but tonight I feel like I might die here.” He managed to make it a few feet, lean over a kitchen sink and turn on the water, then he soaked his head. When he straightened back up, he shook his sandy-brown hair like a dog might, sending water flying several feet.

For the first time, Tuesday saw him in full light. Blood was still dripping from his forehead. But his face, if not handsome, was strong, just like his body.

Dirt and chunks of mud covered his clothes. One leg was bleeding through his jeans. His elbow was dirty and bloody with crimson drops dripping from his fingers.

He was one mess of a man, but he had that stray-dog look that drew her to him. His eyes held a sorrow far deeper than his wounds. A strong man lost in a tempest of his own making, she thought.

“I need to get you to a hospital. I didn’t know you were hurt so bad.” The trip down the stairs would probably kill them both, but he needed a doctor.

Shaking his head, he slung blood along with water. “How do you think you’ll get me there? I left my truck at the library earlier. I was planning to be too drunk to drive home.” He took a step closer to her. “And I completed my mission. I was too drunk to even walk home. Thank you for helping me out, but I’ll be fine.” He staggered forward, making his words void.

He forced his body to move toward the door as if he had the energy to see her out. She looped her arm in his and changed directions toward the bed beneath the long windows. “You need to lie down. I’ll get some towels and clean you up.”

He didn’t argue. When he fell across the tangled covers, he was out cold and still dripping.