“He’s not worth it,” Gabriel said.
Though I could tell the two Legion men both vibrated to take him themselves, after seeing what he did to that poor woman. I was no vigilante, but to fracture a creature so fragile was no man—he was a coward.
She may be weaker than you are, but she is your equal partner. Scarlett’s voice floated, light through the dense fog, words she had read to me one night while gazing at the stars.
I removed the knife from my back, pressing it to his tongue. “The locker.”
He lifted his arm in the direction, not able to point with his gnarled fingers.
“My wife’s grace has spared you,” I said in Italian, releasing him, but not before I left a gash on his tongue.
“You are futhing nuthts!” he said, his voice hoarse, tongue still tied. “A futhing psychopath!”
Dario bent down to him, whispering something in his ear, while Tito took out a knife from his bag, lifting it up to a square window in the wall. The metal glinted against the night. The old doctor studied the blade for a moment, and then ran it down the length of his chest, over his heart, before he pointed it at Nick Lomas.
Sirens wailed in the distance, ambulances and heat. We left the bar after that, the shoe in my hand,mylucky charm, and celebrated before the true ire met us at home.
The bastard’s words had stayed with me though, and after the battle of bodies with my wife, I had led her to a chair by the window. What I needed to know wouldn’t be shared in our bed.
“You moaned when he stuck his—”
“What?” She had become quiet for a moment or two. She started to laugh, embarrassed. “No! It was…” She shivered. “Effing weird. The only reason he got my ear was because I turned my mouth away from his. And I didn’t promise to marry him either. When he asked, I said,sure, sarcastically, because it seemed so foolish.”
A cold wind whistled by, bringing me back to the moment. The fog swayed back and forth. A deep shiver caused my flesh to contract. I blinked, realizing that I strangled the dress in my fist.
If she wants the memory, let her have it.
I stopped myself before I entered the room, going back to the balcony.Fuck that. I flung the dress out, letting the street have it.
She stirred when I sat on the bed, my back to her, feet on the floor. Her fingers floated up my back, cool and soft, as delicate as wings.
“You’re cold.” Her voice was as soft as her touch. “Did I take all of the blankets?”
I shivered before I grinned. “No, my baby.”
“What’s troubling you, Fausti?”
The dream. Tito Sala wants to run blood tests on you because you still have fever. You are drawn to dangerous men. I’m craving you again.
Her small hand rested on my back. “Do you need me?”
All I could summon was a nod.
“Come to me, baby,” she said, her voice even lower.
When did she start callingmebaby?
She held the covers open, inviting. Before she had fallen asleep, I had dressed her in a pretty nightgown, and I removed it again, needing the feel of her skin next to mine. I’d warm her.
“Ooh.” She trembled. “You’re like ice.”
I went to pull away, to put some distance between us so my skin could warm, but she held on, shaking her head.
“No, let me warm you too.”
Dawn was on its way, but we were still encased in darkness, and after hours of sleep, her body was lissome, as though she had melted into the night. From past experience, I knew her speech would slow, her voice lowering, her eyes hooded, as her arms and legs swam in slow strokes, and the moisture between her legs would coat her thighs. She smelled like desire in the flesh.
Sometimes I wanted to press her to me hard enough that she would seep into my skin and enter my bloodstream, then course straight to my heart—my beginning and my end. My eternity.
