I raised a hand. “Stop, Theo. I don’t—I really don’t want to hear it.”
His lips pursed, and he offered one stiff nod. “Right. Did he have any information for us?”
“We were interrupted before he gave me anything. He had to deal with thesituation.”
Theo’s gaze darkened. “Yes. I’m aware. Luckily, he arrived after we’d already fallen back, so he couldn’t do much damage.”
“Why would you plan it on a Thursday night when you knew I’d be with him?”
Releasing a breath, Theo relaxed a bit. “I was hoping he’d be otherwise occupied. The fewer of them we have to deal with, the better.”
I picked at a frayed seam in Lucas’s sweatpants. “Were you successful?”
“We were. His information was good.”
I eyed him, challenging. “It always is.”
He hummed noncommittally. “I keep expecting a bait and switch.”
Sorrow dragged cold fingers across my heart at Theo’s callous admission. It made sense that he held little trust in Lucas. Theo was still picturing the man I’d expected in the beginning—the killer with the iced bloodlust. But Lucas wasn’t that man at all, and the absurd need to argue on his behalf attacked my self-restraint. Lucas had done nothing but help us from the moment he approached Theo with this arrangement. He didn’t deserve Theo’s distrust.
“He isn’t going to do that,” I said. “You can trust him.”
Theo’s brows lifted, making it clear he thought me naive, even though he didn’t say it. “Why don’t you get some rest, Sophia? You had a long night.”
The followingThursday I found Lucas perched on the armrest of the sofa in the living room, waiting for me. I opened my mouth, but he interrupted me before anything emerged. “It’s healing fine.”
Crossing my arms, I sent him a scowl. “That isn’t what I was going to ask.”
He dipped his head, eyebrows raised in skepticism.
I shut and locked the door. “Okay, it was, but I was worried. You didn’t let me sew it.”
He stood and strolled toward our training room. “Don’t waste time worrying about me, Sophia. I’m either fine or I’m dead.”
I shot a glare at the back of his head as I followed, tugging off my outer layers as I went. We faced each other, and for a brief moment, I wondered whether he’d address the misshapen elephant that had entered our midst in the form of a soft kiss haunting all my waking thoughts.
But no.
The corner of his mouth quirked, and he leveled me with a pointed stare. “Today, I’m a rapist. Save your innocence.”
A laugh caught in my throat. “Lost that a long time ago.”
“Humor me.”
In seconds, he had both arms around my body, slamming his full weight into me, knocking the breath from my lungs. I tried to knee him, to dig my elbows in, but he upended me, and we landed together on the plush, carpeted floor. My back spasmed, but I tried to fight my way from beneath him. His hairbrush-knife pressed into my throat.
I went limp and huffed in frustration.
He jerked away, and I rose to take the beating again. At one point he managed to hold both my wrists in one hand, his legs straddling my hips. He had one arm free to do whatever he wanted, and I was helpless.
“Are you even trying?” he demanded.
“Yes!”
“Once you’re pinned, you’re fucked. Literally. You need to do everything you can to prevent it.”
“I know.”
