Cruz is still in last night’s clothes; his black T-shirt is ripped around the collar. And when I look down, I realize, so am I. That thought sends a shiver over my skin and sickness to the pit of my stomach. My dress is also torn and has a splatter of blood staining it. I don’t want to think ofwhose.
“Morning, little darlin’,” he says, his voice filled with exhaustion as he brushes a long strand of hair out of my eyes delicately.
“Morning,” I grumble sleepily, feeling like I could sleep for another couple of days. My body is achy and sore all over. “Did you sleep?” I ask, because from the bags under his eyes and the fact he is still dressed in his jeans, his body over the covers not under, implies he hasn’t.
“Someone had to take care of you guys.”
I don’t have any memory of getting into bed last night or what happened after the first few minutes of the car ride. My job was to keep Asher awake, but I must have fallen asleep myself. I sit up in a rush. “How’s Asher?”
“I’ll live,” he murmurs sleepily from somewhere in my room.
I lean over Cruz to find him on the floor. Three of the sofa cushions are made into a bed for him, tucked up with blankets, pillows, and all. His eyes are still closed, and he looks peaceful. But there is a good bruise on his handsome face and a bandage just under his eye. That’s what Cruz meant by you guys. He must have sat up all night watching over us.
“Did you see the doctor? I’m so sorry I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to I…”
“You were exhausted, don’t apologize. He’s going to be fine. Doc looked him over. A minor concussion, he just needs to take it easy for a few days. He also ended up with a couple of stitches, so he won’t be so pretty anymore.” Cruz laughs.
“Still prettier than you,” Asher grumbles sleepily.
“How did I get into bed?” I ask, wishing I wasn’t so out of it last night.
“You’re light as a feather, it was hardly a challenge.”
“You should have woken me up.” I catch sight of my hand. Dried blood stains my skin and is etched under my fingernails. My stomach lurches, the feeling of stabbing that man resonating through me as if I just did it. I suck in a breath, trying to stop the sickness from taking over. Flashbacks of all the awfulness of last night come back to me. I don’t think I will ever be able to rid my brain of the horror. The creepy touch of his hands on me, knowing what he was about to do. “You really should have woken me up. I have slept with some guy’s blood all over me.”
“I tried to wash your hands, but you were out of it. Doc said you needed to sleep it off.” Cruz looks me over. “You okay?”
“What happened to that man?” I whisper, not sure I really want to know the reality of how the Iron Strykers dispose of dead bodies when they need to.
“Not for you to worry about,” Cruz says softly, with something close to pity in his voice. But I know it’s for me and not my attacker.
“Don’t do that,” I snip back.
“Do what?” He looks puzzled.
I stare at my hands. They tremble terribly. My body is in some kind of shock still, and I know I look weak to them. I freaked out after it all went down, but who wouldn’t? It doesn’t mean I want to be sheltered. “Keep shit from me. He was lying there dead. I stabbed him. He was shot as well. There was so much blood, all over the parking lot.” My eyes rise to meet his. “Are the cops about to knock down our door?”
Cruz takes my hand in his. “I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you, little darlin’. I just didn’t want to stress you anymore. The motherfucker who touched you has been disposed of. Nothing will come back to implicate you in any way; we have ways of making things disappear. And Mal knows how to wipe any surveillance we need himto. Then a clean-up crew comes in, and Sloane’s parking lot will be sparkling new in no time. It will be like last night never happened.”
“But it did,” I whisper. I can still see him lying there. I can still smell the metallic tang of blood in my nostrils. It makes me gag. Swallowing, I try to stop the bile from rising again. My reaction last night was bad enough. I don’t need to vomit all over the place again today.
Cruz cups my face tenderly. “You have to forget about it, Daisy. Shit like this will mess with your brain, but you can’t let it.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “How? Every time I close my eyes, I feel his hands on me. Feel the jarring stab of metal piercing flesh as the knife sank deep into his skin.”
He smiles at me. It’s soft and caring, a warmth in his eyes as he brushes his thumb over my cheek. “Some things we can’t forget, but over time, the memory will become less vivid,” he explains like someone who has way too many haunted memories of his own. “I’m so proud of you for stabbing the fucker.”
Asher leans up on the bed. “So am I. How did you even find that knife?”
I shrug, having no idea myself.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t stop him. You never should have had to fend for yourself, princess.” He reaches for my hand, and I slip my fingers into his, giving it a squeeze.
“You couldn’t have known he would come out of the shadows and knock you out cold. It was your knife that saved me, so don’t go guilting yourself with what-ifs.”
His head drops, and I know it doesn’t matter what I say, he is. “If something had happened to you, I never could have forgiven myself.”
“Well, it didn’t. I’m safe thanks to whichever of you shot him.” With a heavy sigh, I pull out of both their grips on me and throw mylegs over the edge of my bed. I’m feeling way too emotional to dive any deeper into any of this right now. “Going to take a shower,” I mutter, turning away from them before I completely break down.
