She knew in her head that it was, but it took a few more reminders for it to sink in. With Dennis, she’d felt trapped, like she’d had no choice but to stay with him. But last night she’d fought, had tried to get away, and she reported the assault to the police. She didn’t just run away as she had from Dennis. Those assholes were going to pay for what they’d done. It sickened her that she hadn’t pressed charges against Dennis, but that was a nightmare she couldn’t afford to get tangled up in right now. She had to get dressed and deal with the complicated man waiting for her in her bedroom. How did a person thank someone for saving their life? Words didn’t seem like enough, especially when she’d spent so much time giving him crap at work.

She carefully washed around her wounds, thinking about how gentle Diesel had been when he’d cleaned her face last night. She found the small first aid kit under the sink and went to work applying ointment to her scratches. She bandaged her forehead, brushed her teeth and hair, and dressed. She gathered her dirty clothes from the floor and put them in the hamper; then she picked up Diesel’s shirt and pressed it to her nose. It smelled like him, rugged and manly, with hints of her bodywash from last night’s shower. The combination was strangely comforting.

She picked up her boots, took a deep, fortifying breath, and went to thank him for all he’d done.

The bedroom was empty and the bed was made, her blanket folded neatly at the foot of it. She put her boots in the closet and followed a savory scent toward the kitchen. On her way through the living room, she peeked out the front windows and saw two guys on motorcycles.

Diesel stood at the stove with his back to her. He was shirtless, jeans riding low on his hips. His muscular back and lats formed a perfect V to his thick waist. A tattoo ran down the back of his neck and between his shoulder blades. It was a naked man superimposed in two positions within a circle and a square, one with his arms and legs apart, the other with his arms apart and his legs together. Tracey had seen the image before, but she didn’t know what it meant. She was curious about all of his tattoos, but more so about the meaning of that tattoo and why Diesel had the face of a fairy tattooed on the back of his left arm. But while his arms and chest were thoroughly inked, there were no other tattoos on his back, and boy oh boy did he look delicious.