Set by Alessa Thorn

4

Ayla had expected the safe house to be dirty like the place she had been held in, so she was surprised to find everything neatly organized and relatively clean. She locked the bathroom door behind her and tried to steady her heart rate.

The brute of a man in the other room could probably kick it down, but the lock made her feel better.

Ayla slowly took off her ruined clothes and, with a doctor's eye, checked her injuries. Bruises were blooming like purple flowers along her ribs, and her shoulder ached from slamming into the floor.

There was a bleeding cut in her hair, her cheek was swollen, and she had red and blue bracelets around her wrists from being tied.

Apart from that, all of her other wounds were psychological. In the basin mirror, her eyes looked back at her hollow and grieving expression.

My father is alive. Set said he could prove it and seemed like he was willing to convince her. Who was her real father if it wasn't the man in her locket?

That wasn't what hurt her the most. Her mother, the only person she had really loved and trusted, had lied to her for her thirty-two years of life.

Was it because her real father was some kind of a drug dealer? That was the last kind of person she imagined her gentle-natured mother being involved with.

It's hardly the first time she lied to you about something, is it?Ayla pushed the voice down. She could deal with only one emotional crisis at a time.

Ayla searched the cupboards and found sealed packets of soap, shampoo, and other toiletries. It took a while for any hot water to come through and felt like heaven when it did.

Ayla hugged herself, rubbing her arms, trying to get warm as the shock she had been pushing back finally hit her. Tears rushed out of her, and she gripped the cool tiled walls to keep upright.

She hated feeling so powerless. All of the training she had done in case she was snatched while working in war zones meant absolutely fucking nothing when faced with the real thing. She hadn't been given a chance to fight back, to use anything she had learned.

If it wasn't for Set...she didn't want to think about it. Violent, powerful energy vibrated off him, and as much as Set scared her, she didn't feel like he was a threat to her.

Knight in shining armor, my ass.

She had met soldiers with hero complexes, and he certainly wasn't one of them. Set wasn't just a mercenary. He was a killer.

Ayla thought of the piles of bodies they had left behind them. Then she remembered the warm hand that had gently pulled her face away from the sight of the massacre before he carried her in his arms so she didn't get blood on her shoes. Confusing didn't even begin to describe her night or the man that was now protecting her.

When she finally felt like she had gotten herself back together, Ayla dried off and opened the door a crack. She grabbed the clothes left for her and quickly locked the door again.

After washing her bra and underwear in the sink, Ayla hung them over a towel rack and hoped they would be dry by morning. She didn't particularly like the idea of not wearing any or having Set seeing them drying, but she didn't have much choice. She dressed in the borrowed clothes that swam on her.

"You can get through this," Ayla told herself. She combed out her wet curls and opened the bathroom door.

Set was in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled good enough to make her stomach grumble.

"I made tea if you want some," he said without turning around.

"Thanks," she replied and poured herself a steaming cup. She slid onto a chair at the small table and sipped. It was mint and tasted good, the heat spreading to the cold parts inside of her. She didn't know where to start, so she said nothing, just watched him moving about.

A killer who cooks. Could the night get any stranger?

"Not my best koshari, but I had to work with what we had," Set said, setting a steaming bowl in front of her. He topped up her tea before joining her.

"I can't cook, so any food is good food," Ayla replied before having a spoonful. "Definitely better than what I can do."

Set smiled. "It'll do. If we get out of this alive, I'll cook properly for you one night."

"If you get me out of this alive, I might just agree to that," she replied, surprising herself. She was clearly more traumatized than she thought.

"It's a deal," Set replied. He sipped his tea, watching her through the steam with his predator gold eyes.

"You are calmer than I thought you would be," he admitted after a while.

"I had my breakdown in private." Ayla pushed some rice around her plate. "And you're right. I'm kind of stuck with you until whatever is happening stops. I'd like to know what is happening. I have showered and eaten, so tell me the truth."

"Your father's name is Kader Ayad. He runs a large operation out of Cairo," Set said without hesitation.

"Operation. Illegal, I'm assuming. Those men asked me about his cocaine."

"Illegal is kind of a relative term in Egypt, and you know it. He would call himself a businessman, but he is a gangster, for lack of a better word. His rival is a man named Moussa Omar. He found out about you somehow and wants to use you to get Kader to hand Cairo over to him."

Ayla shook her head slowly. "That's ridiculous. Kader doesn't even know me. If he is a criminal, I doubt he would hand over anything for a woman he's never met."

"He kept tabs, though." Set placed his phone down in front of her. There was a picture of her with a group of children taken in Sudan last winter.

"How did he get this?" Ayla asked.

Set shrugged his big shoulders. "No idea. Kader kept you a secret from me and everyone else."

"So how did Moussa know about me?"

"An excellent question. One that I want to know the answer to," Set said, his expression changing to one of cold violence. Ayla glanced away and spotted blood dripping out from under his sleeve.

"Set, you're hurt," she said, the doctor taking over. "Let me have a look at it."

Ignoring his protests, Ayla searched the kitchen cupboards, coming up with a first aid kit, and wet a clean cloth.

"It's nothing. I heal fast," Set insisted.

"Roll up your sleeve. I'll decide if it's nothing," she said stubbornly.

Set gave her an amused look before pushing up his black sleeve. He had wrapped a scrap of cloth around the wound. Ayla untied it to reveal a gash that was bleeding steadily.

"I told you it was nothing."

Ayla ignored him, wrapping the wet towel around it. "I hope you didn't bleed into that koshari I just ate."

"It's why it tasted so good," Set teased.

"This could do with some stitches," she said, inspecting the cut. "Doesn't look like there's anything in it."

"I washed it. It's really nothing, though if you must play doctor, I'll allow it." There was enough innuendo in his tone that made Ayla roll her eyes.

"Like I haven't heard that one before," she said, pressing the towel against the cut again. "I can't have my knight in shining armor bleeding everywhere, can I?"

Set raised a brow. "I think we both know I'm not knight material."

"You don't say," she said. Once the bleeding slowed, she rubbed some antiseptic cream on it, covered it with a sterile patch, and wrapped it in a bandage.

"You going to kiss it better, too?" he asked with a hopeful grin.

"I don't like you that much." Ayla threw out the bloody cloth and washed her hands.

Set was watching her, golden eyes assessing as if he was trying to figure her out. Ayla dried her hands and stared right back, refusing to be intimidated.

He was big and brutal, but with his thick black hair out of its tie and around his shoulders, his strong features softened into rough handsomeness. Not the type of man Ayla would usually go for, but there was something about him that made his presence...arresting.

"Thank you. It was unnecessary, but thank you," he said when she sat back down.

"Thank you for saving me tonight," she replied, picking up her spoon. "Even if you were paid to do it, I won't ever stop being grateful. What's he like? My father."

Set turned thoughtful. "Ruthless. Cunning. Scary smart. He cares about very few people, but he treats his friends well."

"Are you his friend?"

"He likes to think so. He's a good boss, as far as gangsters go, and pays well."

Ayla nodded. "Does he have a family?"

"No. Only you, apparently. No wife."

"Do you know why he never bothered to reach out?"

"Isn't it obvious? He didn't want you anywhere near this shit. It's why he sent me to protect you. So you might get out of this as easily as possible, and I can give you back a normal life."

"He trusts that you can do that, so what makes you so special?" she asked.

Set's answering smile tugged at something low in her gut. "Stay alive long enough, doctor, and you might just find out."