Jo
The hot water pours over me, washing away blood, dirt, and grime that’s accumulated over the last few days. My eyes are closed, my mind wandering.
Senator Richard Pierce is dead. We burned down the house, but there’s no way there won’t be evidence of foul play. They’ll probably discover the dead bodies in the basement. Maybe whatever I shot Sinclair up with didn’t kill him and they can blame him for everything.
I ignore the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing, content to be lost in the sensation of thepounding water.
“Jo?” West’s voice has me opening my eyes, taking in his blurred form behind the fogged glass. “Are you doing okay? You’ve been in there a while.”
“Just thinkin’.” I shrug, turning to grab some of the body wash kept in the shower.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I sigh. “Doctor, I hate talkin’ through doors. Why don’t you either come in here, or we can talk when I get out.”
He stills for a moment. He and Sam saw me bare when Hayden claimed me, and I’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times. But never have we both been completely naked together.
I’m prepared for him to tell me he’ll wait, but then I see the shape of him start removing clothes. My heart pounds in anticipation, my scent soaking the air as I get a teasing look of his naked body through the glass.
When he opens the door to step in, some of the fog escapes, and it occurs to me I must look like a drowned rat. But when his eyes take me in, it’s like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. His throat bobs, and there’s no hiding the heat in his eyes as his cock does the same.
“What’s going through your mind, Siren?” he asks quietly, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides as he pointedly ignores his physical response to me.
He’s so far removed from the man that offered himself up for torture only hours ago so I wouldn’t have to take a few hits.
I can’t help the anger that bubbles up at the memory. The helplessness I felt watching himself volunteer so I’d stop fighting.
At the time, I didn’t even realize he had a plan. All I could think about was how he’d be hurt and broken because of me. Now, I see it for what it was—part of his ploy to get them to open the door so Kolecould take them out. But what if Kole hadn’t been able to break the cuffs? What if things hadn’t worked out how they planned, and West got hurt because of me?
“Like you care.” My words are irrational, and I’m completely aware of this. I know I shouldn’t be mad.
But I am.
“What do you mean?” His brows furrow in confusion.
“You didn’t care how I felt when you went after Turnip,” I bite out. “You didn’t care when you volunteered to be tortured.”
He sighs, running a hand over his hair. “Jo, I—”
“Listen. I know that you were doin’ it for me. I know you were gettin’ us out. But how do you think I woulda felt if you had taken a bullet tryin’ to get Turnip? How I woulda lived with myself if Kole wasn’t able to break the cuffs and they really did hurt you to get me to cooperate?!” My voice is shrill now, tears stinging my eyes. “You keep puttin' yourself in danger, and you don’t seem to realize what it does to me, West!”
His mouth is on mine before I can blink. The kiss is punishing. Harsh. His hand grips the back of my neck, and the tears pour free. Our naked bodies press together, nothing but drops of water from the shower spray between us. I’m crying—sobbing—all the stress and pressure since our safe house was attacked coming to a head.
I can’t stop kissing him. I don’t want to.
My arms are around his neck, holding him close. When he rips away from me, our chests heaving, he presses his forehead against mine.
“If I get hurt,” his voice is low and gravelly, “you will be sad. If Idie, you might be devastated, but still have Kole, Sam, and Hayden.” He swallows, shaking his head. “Ifyou’rehurt? Ifyoudie? None of us willeverrecover. I don’t think you realize what it does to us. To me. I will never ask you to stop being who you are—the reckless soul thatconstantly puts herself in danger for the sake of others. But you have to realize that if you continue to do so, I’m going to be forced to take equal measures to make sureyouare safe.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut. Even now, I’m not used to other people being affected by what happens to me. My heart pounds as I look up into the honey brown eyes of my Doctor. The man who continually sacrifices himself for me. His job. His beliefs. His life.
“I’m sorry.” My voice is pitiful, and I look down.
His finger tilts my chin up. “Don’t be sorry. The way you’ve grown up…well, it’s no wonder you throw yourself into the fire for the ones you care about. Just…just don’teverthink I don’t care, okay? Because the exact opposite is true. I caretoomuch—”
This time it’s my lips that cut off his words. The kiss isn’t as harsh as before, but no less demanding. A silent reprimand.
He could never care “too much”.
