Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
A little whimper escaped her at that.
“Soon. Just not yet. Gotta make sure you’re warmed up to the bone.”
She sighed but nuzzled closer.
“My head hurts.”
“You’re probably dehydrated from all the running. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll go find something to drink.” Tea, maybe. Or, better yet, broth.
I hadn’t ever needed to stay in a Costa safe house before. But from what I could tell, it seemed like this one had been thoughtfully prepared. From the dryer sheets on the mattress to keep it fresh to the blankets in airtight bags to keep any bugs or smells out, someone had put thought into this. I was sure there were some nonperishables in the cabinets or freezer. Soup had to be one of them. I didn’t know how hypothermia affected the gut, so I didn’t know if food was a good idea. But the salt in the broth had to be smart.
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Sore. Everywhere.”
That might have been partially from the shivering, which was basically a full-body workout. Or, you know, it could be from running for her life through half of fucking Manhattan.
“Once I’m sure you’re good, I can get you something for that.”
“And my feet,” she said with a little whine.
“Wish I could say I can help your feet, but think staying off of them might be the only thing that helps. I can fix your hands once you’re warm enough, though.”
Steph pulled back slightly, pulling her arms up between us and staring at her palms.
“It’s alright,” I said when a strange whimper escaped her.
“My hands touched the ground,” she said, her face twisted in horror.
“Yeah. But not the sidewalk, at least,” I reasoned.
“Not much better.”
“We were pretty deep in there. Lower-traffic area. On an unrelated note, when’s the last time you had a tetanus shot?”
A snorting laugh escaped her at that.
“Maybe three years ago.”
“You’re set then. Look up at me,” I demanded, watching as her head lifted. Her lips no longer looked blue. There was a bloom of pink across her cheeks. “Looking better.”
She wet her dry lips, and it took every goddamn drop of self-control I possessed to keep my cock from going hard.
“You came for me,” she said, watching me with something deep in her eyes.
“Of course I did.”
“After I ran away from you.”
“Don’t matter. I was already in your apartment when you called.”
“Why? To keep me from going to the police?”
“No. To keep you safe.”
“You knew he would come for me.”
“To get to me, yeah.”
“Why does he want to get to you?”
Shit.
This was a murky area.
Even mafia wives didn’t know the exact details of what went down. It protected them. But, yeah, it also protected their men. So I damn sure couldn’t tell Steph, who I wasn’t even dating.
That said, after what she’d been through, I felt like I owed her something.
“I had a run-in with him and his buddy a while back. Took back what they took from me. He’s clearly got some feelings about it.”
“Enough to kill you? And me?”
“Seems like it.”
“Did you kill him? I heard a scream.”
“Wish I did,” I said. “But no. Hurt him. But that won’t keep him down forever.”
“Have you killed people?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I had to.”
“Had to,” she repeated.
“If it’s gotta be someone, it ain’t gonna be me.”
She watched me for a long moment before giving me a small nod, as if she understood, like she knew that if she was pushed into a corner, she would fight her way out with fists and nails and teeth.
Everyone would.
It was survival instinct.
“Do you think he’s going to come back for us?”
“Maybe.” He absolutely was going to. I just didn’t want to freak her out.
“Where are we?”
“Safe house.”
“It smells funny.”
“Yeah. Seems like it’s been closed up for a while. But it’s got everything we need. Here, roll onto your back for me,” I said, loosening up the blanket so she could move.
“Why?”
“Wanna make sure the rest of you is pink,” I said.
There was a dubious lift to her brows.
“It’s not like that,” I assured her as I pressed her shoulder back, then finally moved out from under the blankets.
The room was scorching, but it still felt like a cool wash of air after the trapped heat between our bodies under the blankets.
Where she’d been deathly pale when I’d stripped her, the color had fully returned to every inch of her, even in the center, which I knew was important.
Steph watched me the whole time as I reached out, pressing my hand to her feet, her chest, and stomach, making sure she was warm to the touch.
It was clinical.
But Steph’s chest started rising and falling more quickly.
“Can I ask you something?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Was it fake?”
“Was what fake?”
“This,” she said, flicking her hand between the two of us. “What has happened between us,” she added. “Was it all part of it?”
I exhaled hard, my knees hitting the edge of the bed, my chin tucked, and my gaze on hers.