Taboo Online

Chapter 3: A Place To Stay

Luke stared at Lauren, unsure whether the pepper spray had somehow affected his hearing.

Until that moment, he had not realized how badly he wanted someone to offer him a real place to stay. He had grown used to temporary rooms, uncomfortable beds, and never knowing when he might be forced to leave. At some point, he had stopped thinking about what it would feel like to return somewhere warm, clean, and safe at the end of the day.

Now Lauren was offering him exactly that.

She had already saved him from the thugs, but this was more than helping him out of a dangerous situation. She was giving him somewhere to go when the café closed and the streets grew cold.

"Are you serious?" he asked.

His voice came out quieter than he intended. Part of him worried that if he sounded too eager, she might realize how much she was offering and change her mind.

Lauren smiled. "I am. You can help around the café and handle some of the heavier work. I could use someone to unload deliveries, carry boxes into storage, and take care of anything that needs a little muscle. I already pay enough for delivery without having to bring everything inside myself."

Her smile faded slightly. ƒгeewёbnovel.com

"Some of the deliverymen also like to ask whether I live alone. Others finish their work and still find reasons to hang around."

Luke understood what she meant. Lauren was beautiful, lived alone, and probably dealt with men who thought those two things gave them permission to bother her.

His hands curled against his knees.

He wanted to tell her that he would take care of them, but the words refused to come. A few hours earlier, three thugs had left him blind and coughing on the pavement. Making promises about protecting her now would only sound empty.

Still, unloading boxes was something he could do.

He could sweep the floors, clean tables, take out the trash, and make himself useful until he found proper work. It was not much, but it was better than lying beneath the bus shelter and waiting for another bad night to pass.

"Then yes," he said. "I’d like to stay."

Lauren’s expression softened.

"I’ll help as much as I can," Luke continued. "Around the café, I mean. You won’t have to keep feeding me for nothing."

"You don’t have to earn every meal," she said.

"I know, but I want to help."

Lauren watched him for a moment before giving his hand another gentle squeeze.

"All right. We’ll figure it out together."

"Thank you."

This time, she did not tell him that he had nothing to thank her for. She simply remained beside him until his breathing settled.

Before taking him upstairs, Lauren called the police as promised. Luke described the three thugs as well as he could, including the red jacket and the fact that they had followed him from the bus station.

The officer said someone would review the nearby security footage and contact him through Lauren if they found anything.

Luke did not expect to see his money again. Even so, filing the report made the attack feel less like something he had silently allowed to happen. At least there was now a chance the thugs would be recognized before they chose someone else.

Once the call ended, Lauren checked his vision again.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Two."

She lowered her hand. "And the room?"

"Still a little blurry, but better."

Lauren leaned closer and studied his eyes. Luke caught the faint scent of her perfume again and did his best to keep his attention on her face.

"You’re coming with me if it gets worse," she said.

"I know."

"And if you start feeling sick or dizzy."

"I’ll tell you."

Lauren searched his expression, making sure he meant it.

"All right," she said at last. "Let’s get you upstairs."

The café occupied the first floor of the building, while Lauren lived in the apartment directly above it. As Luke followed her up the narrow staircase, the smell of roasted coffee gradually faded, replaced by clean laundry and a faint trace of cinnamon.

Family photographs covered one side of the hallway. Most showed Lauren beside the two younger women he recognized from the pictures behind the café counter. Both had inherited her dark hair and blue eyes.

In one photograph, the three of them stood barefoot on a beach with their arms around one another. Another showed them crowded around a birthday cake covered in far too many candles.

The most recent pictures featured Lauren’s daughters in fitted sidekick uniforms, smiling proudly beside the silver insignia of their Canadian hero agency.

Luke paused in front of one of them. "These are your daughters?"

Lauren nodded. "That was taken shortly before they left."

"They look like you."

"They would argue with you about that."

There was affection in her voice, but something quieter beneath it as well.

Luke looked at the photograph again. Both women appeared confident in their uniforms, though one wore a restrained smile while the other grinned openly at the camera.

"They look happy."

"They were."

Lauren’s gaze remained on the picture for another moment before she continued down the hall.

Smaller traces of their lives filled the apartment. A chipped mug painted with crooked flowers sat on one shelf, colorful magnets covered part of the refrigerator, and several pairs of shoes had been arranged near the entrance. Two pairs looked as though they had not been touched since Lauren’s daughters moved away.

The apartment was neither large nor luxurious, but it felt comfortable in a way no motel room ever had. Nothing matched perfectly, and several pieces of furniture showed their age, yet every object seemed to have a reason for being there.

It felt like people had actually lived here.

Then Luke noticed the dirt his shoes had left near the entrance.

"Sorry."

Lauren followed his gaze. "For what?"

"The floor."

"That can be cleaned."

He bent to remove his shoes, but the movement sent a sharp ache through his stomach. Lauren caught his shoulder before he lost his balance.

"Leave them for now."

"I can clean it later."

"I know you can. You don’t have to do it this minute."

Luke straightened carefully.

Lauren did not sound doubtful or condescending. She simply spoke as though his place in the apartment had already been decided.

That made him want to prove she had made the right choice.

She stopped in front of the bathroom and opened the door.

"Here we are. Take as much time as you need. There are clean towels on the shelf, and you can use the soap and shampoo."

Luke looked into the bathroom, then back at her. "Are you sure?"

"Of course."

"I don’t want to use too much."

"Luke."

He fell silent.

Lauren’s expression remained gentle. "Take a proper shower. I’ll find you something clean to wear and leave it outside the door."

"All right."

She placed a hand against his back and guided him inside.

"If you start feeling dizzy, call for me."

"I will."

Lauren waited until he nodded before closing the door.

The bathroom was cleaner than any room Luke had entered in months. White tiles covered the walls and floor, the sink gleamed beneath the overhead light, and several towels had been folded into a neat stack on the shelf.

He remained near the door for a few seconds, reluctant to touch anything. Even the bath mat looked cleaner than most of the beds he had slept in recently.

Then he noticed the dirt beneath his shoes and carefully removed them before stepping farther inside.

While searching for the soap, Luke spotted several pieces of clothing hanging from a drying rack near the bathtub.

His gaze settled on a large black bra trimmed with lace.

Lauren had left some of her lingerie there to dry.

Heat rushed into his face. He looked away, but his attention drifted back almost immediately.

The bra looked almost indecently sexy hanging there among the ordinary towels and clothes. Black lace covered the oversized cups, making it impossible not to picture Lauren wearing it beneath her blouse.

Once the image entered Luke’s mind, it refused to leave. He imagined the lace stretched across her full breasts and the straps resting against her smooth shoulders.

Luke caught himself leaning closer.

He stopped before his hand could rise from his side.

A faint sound came from the hallway, followed by something soft being placed outside the door.

"I left some clothes for you," Lauren called.

"Thank you."

His answer came out too quickly.

Luke waited until her footsteps moved away before releasing the breath he had been holding.

He gave the bra one last glance, then turned his back on it.

Lauren trusted him enough to invite him into her home. Whatever thoughts crossed his mind, he was not going to touch something private that belonged to her.

The image of her wearing it followed him toward the shower anyway.

Luke removed his filthy clothes and stepped beneath the warm water.

The first touch of heat against his bruises made him wince, but his muscles gradually began to loosen. Dirt and sweat disappeared down the drain, along with the chemical smell that had clung to him since the attack.

For several minutes, he did nothing except stand beneath the water.

Tomorrow, he could help Lauren open the café. He would clean the floor, carry whatever she needed, and ask whether she knew anywhere that might be hiring.

Those were small things, but they were things he could actually do.

After weeks of having no idea what the next morning would bring, that was enough.

For the first time in months, Luke knew where he would sleep that night.

More importantly, he knew what he was going to do when he woke up.