Much.
“Yes, thank you.” I help him unpack the groceries. “See? It’s not a terrible chore to be civil.”
He grunts what I’m sure is something nasty, but I choose to ignore it. Since he brought home what seems like half the store, I busy myself with the task of figuring out where to put everything. I’m both pleased to have everything we need but heartsick at the thought of needing it. It means he expects us to stay for the long haul.
There’s a chance my father will die while I’m here hiding, and I’m…okay…with this genuine possibility. It will still break my heart into unrepairable pieces, but I’ve made peace with losing him. I said my goodbyes to him when his doctor told us his survival rate was less than five percent. I held his hand and told him I loved him, that one of my greatest joys is being his daughter. Then I promised him we’d be okay, that I’d take care of my mother and Nate. He didn’t have to fight through the pain anymore.
A big part of upholding my promise is finding out who shot him.
When I made the promise, I never imagined I’d have the Unholy helping me.
Or that it would land me in the middle of the wilderness, alone, with Havoc Taylor.
“…the fuck is wrong with you?”
I blink blankly at Havoc, catching only the end of his nasty demand. I knit my brows when I struggle to piece together the last few moments but come away empty. Did I have a seizure?
Damnit, I think I did.
The stress of the last week, coupled with getting my brains rattled, must have triggered one. It’s not surprising, but itisannoying after not having one for years. And more than a little problematic because now I’m concerned more will follow. “Pardon?”
Those dark eyes cut through me. “You fucking heard me.”
No, I did not, but you don’t need to know that.
“Sorry, my mind was…elsewhere.”
“Nice to have you back.” His tone oozes sarcasm. Then he shakes the bag at me, forcing me to look down. “Are you going to take them, or stand there all fucking day?”
“What is it?” I take the white plastic bag from him.
“Girlie shit.”
I added tampons to the list, but this bag is full.
“How thoughtful.” I wouldn’t be able to stop my smile even if I tried. “Thank you.”
I’m genuinely surprised at his consideration, and I’m like a child on her birthday as I carry the bag to the table. I tear into it, eager to discover the treasures it holds. I’m not disappointed. Havoc bought me the most divine scented shampoo and conditioner. There’s also a lovely body lotion, hair ties, and nail care products (including pink polish similar to what I’m currently wearing). Thought was put into each of these items, and after I gather everything and drop them in the bag, I clutch it to my heart.
“Havoc,” I breathe. “Thank you.”
“Not a problem.” Then he leaves, only to return carrying a large suitcase. “Here.” He shoves the heavy black suitcase in my hands. “This is from Faith.”
“It’s like Christmas,” I say as I roll the suitcase to the bedroom. The bag of ‘girlie’ goodies dangles from my wrist. I flop both bags on the bed, and when I unzip the suitcase and see the collection of sweatpants, jeans, T-shirts, and hoodies, I immediately know everything belongs to Faith. Her familiar perfume clings to each item as I unpack the clothes and either hang them in the closet or make use of the rustic dresser across from the bed.
We’re not the same shoe size, so it makes me wonder where she got the Uggs and Fila sneakers.
After a quick change from the T-shirt to nice, warm pink sweatpants and a long-sleeve white shirt, I pull on fluffy socks. There. Better. Less…exposed. I put away the toiletries in the bathroom, and a weird sort of homey sensation settles over me.
Okay. That’s a bit much. Having some clothes and the basics helps fight against the homesickness needling at my insides. It helps make this awful situation a bit more bearable, and when I rejoin Havoc in the kitchen, on impulse, I rise on my tiptoes and kiss him right on his lips.
“Thank you for…everything.”
Havoc hisses in a breath, and I expect it to end here. It doesn’t.Hedoesn’t. Havoc snakes an arm around my waist and hauls me against him. He holds me in place as he stares down at me. Just…stares. And I gaze back at him, lost in his abysmal eyes. Rich, brown eyes filled with an ocean of pain and cruelty, and rage. For a moment, I’m locked in his world. Surrounded by him. Trapped by his strength. He becomesmyworld.
His hand lands on the small of my back, his fingers digging into my flesh. He pulls me closer, anchoring me to him. And when my eyes shift to his mouth, I ache to know if his taste matches his scent—feral and fierce.
But the moment passes, and he sets me free so suddenly I almost trip over my feet.
