After several moments, she let the sheet slip from her fingers and onto the floor.
“She’s gone. Told me not to look for her. I can’t believe she took off like this. What was the point of even coming to me?” She crossed her arms. “I’m so stupid,” she grumbled with a sigh.
I sat beside her, our shoulders touching. “Let me get this straight. She’s the one with the hit out on her head and runs away, putting herself in danger with nowhere to go. Yet you’re the stupid one? Care to explain.”
Cuffing a lock of hair behind her ear, she sighed another soft breath. “That’s not what I meant.” Her glassy eyes found my curious ones. “I found Rayne about four years ago. She’d just dropped out of high school, was a runaway, and an addict. The night I arrested her, she had beaten her john with a beer bottle for shorting her. I always wished I could do more for her. Lord knows I tried. She was just one of those faces, those stories that stick with you when you’re a cop.”
Evangelina wiped the tears trickling from her lashes. I’d been right. The stream of droplets, coupled with the light pink flush across the bridge of her nose, gave her beautiful face an angelic glow.
Angel.
Like her name.
“It’s not your responsibility to save her from herself.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” She released a humorless laugh. “It’s kind of a pattern in my life.”
“Evangelina, I’m sure you’ve helped more people than not.”
Her eyes were back on me. And I suddenly wished I could read her thoughts. Could she see the darkness that lived and breathed beneath my painted flesh? Or worse yet, did she only see that frail boy abandoned so many years ago? Would she want to save me too?
Little did she know, there existed no redemption for men like me. Perhaps one day, I would atone for the chaos and bloodshed I’d left behind. But by that time, Evangelina would be just a memory of the past.
“I’ve never been able to save those I truly care for.”
Her voice jarred me back to the moment, and I blinked furiously, processing her words. She couldn’t possibly be referring to that son of a bitch, James. The only thing he’d done right was maintain my cover. Otherwise, I would have been forced to dispose of Eva as well, which would have been a goddamn tragedy.
As a response formed in my throat, she took my wrapped hand in hers, noticing the handkerchief for the first time. I’d never needed so much as a bandage to cast my oath, but that asshole Ronan had tried to prove a point.
“What happened to your hand?”
“Deimos gave your friend quite the scare this morning. Ran her into the kitchen and knocked over some plates. It’s just a small cut.”
Eva turned my hand over where the blood had soaked through the beige fabric.
“And instead of a bandage, you decided that this handkerchief would do? God, you’re such a guy.” She pushed to her feet and pulled me to follow. “Come on.”
“What are you doing?”
“You took care of me yesterday; let me return the favor.”
An unfamiliar flutter tickled the inside of my chest as I let her lead me down the hall of my own home. Once we reached the staircase, her intention was to head up to my room like we’d done the night before, but instead, I squeezed her hand and motioned for her to follow me into the kitchen.
She wore a puzzled look until I pulled a first aid kit from the cabinet below the sink.
“I keep this here for my cleaning lady. She cut herself on broken glass once. And I’d rather her take care of things than bleed all over my damn floor.”
Eva flashed an amused smile and shook her head as she pulled out a bandage and gauze. “So, was this here last night?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe,” she repeated, rolling her lips and hopping onto the barstool, tugging my hand over her lap.
The heat rising from the clothed skin of her thigh scorched the back of my hand, and my imagination drifted to a much darker place.
“Hold still,” she said, unwrapping the stained handkerchief while utterly oblivious to her role in my scandalous musings.
Or was she?
