I cackle, the sound muffled by his stolen blanket. That’s rich coming from a man who looked ready to bolt at having to treat my injuries last night. I’m not concerned that he’d voluntarily touch me.
I hear Sin grumbling as the chest at the end of my bed is opened, and things start landing on the floor.
Rolling my eyes, I call out, “I get that you are super eager to be my partner, but I’ve checked with my union, and I’m entitled to a day off after injuring myself on the job.”
Honestly, I feel like that’s a pretty clever response, especially since I haven’t had any coffee yet.
Sin responds by ripping the blankets off me and tossing them to the corner of the room. I yelp, scrambling to cover myself. I’m still only in a pair of booty shorts.
Sin rolls his eyes and stares at the top of my head. He tosses some clothes at me before gritting out, “Five minutes, kitten. You have five minutes before I come back.”
“And what happens if I crawl back under the blankets?” I challenge as I grab the clothes he just threw at me.
I usually have a strict filter for interacting with others. I weigh every word, constantly trying to decide what the right thing to say is. But Sin pushes me past that point. I don’t care if I tell him the right thing because I’ve decided he is the bane of my existence, and I want to keep him that way.
Sin’s eyes leave the top of my head, and he takes a moment to eye me up and down. I’m shocked at his heated expression.
That doesn’t look like disgust.
He smirks before answering, “Crawl back into that bed, and I’ll un-exist it and make you sleep with me tonight.” He takes a step back and adds, “I mean it. Dress yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”
I don’t get the chance to snap at him because just as the words leave his mouth, he apparates from the room. I’m left blinking and stupefied. Not just because of Sin’s threats but because of what I see, now that I’m not focused on the warlord-wannabe.
There, against the wall, are my bookshelves, stuffed full to the brim and bowing under the weight of my books. My dresser is here, too, directly across from my bed. My throw pillows are scattered around the floor, and my quilts are folded neatly by the foot of the bed.
My stuff.
Sin said he’d returned to my realm to get some of my things so I’d be more comfortable. But I never imagined…
Squealing, I jump out of bed, ignoring the pain in my leg, to go to my books. I pick one up and hug it.
I don’t care if it’s weird. I have an emotional attachment to my books.
Skipping over to my dresser, I pull open the drawers, thrilled that everything is still in them.
When I head to the bathroom, I squeal again at the sight of my toiletries.
It’s amazing what a few familiar things will do for a person. The only thing I’m missing now are Sarah, Conner, and Isaac. But the further away they are from me, the safer they will be. Especially now that I know the Fates are messing with my life.
That latest bit of information is more anxiety-inducing than I’m ready to cope with.
A knock at the door distracts me from my joyful reunion with my belongings. “Three minutes, kitten.”
Instead of snapping at him, I bite back my words and hustle to get ready. Sin might be a monumental pain in my ass, but he also brought me my books. For that, I’ll try to be on my best behavior today.
Pulling on my fighting leathers, I wince when they rub against the wounds. Luckily, the ones on my back and shoulder weren’t deep enough to warrant stitches, and after sleeping on my stomach in only my underwear, they’ve scabbed over. I’m ninety percent sure the scabs are now bleeding again, but the fresh clothing hide any evidence of that.
I make a mental note to check my toiletries later for some disinfectant.
I’m saved from figuring out whether five minutes have passed because the second my weapons are sheathed, Sin apparates behind me, hooking an arm around my waist, and then apparates us outside.
Shaking off his hold, I turn to glare at his self-satisfied smirk. “Was that necessary?” I grit out.
“Your leg is injured. Would you prefer I carried you down the stairs?” he drawls.
I flush. “You wouldn’t.”
The devilish gleam that crosses his face is enough to tell me that he wouldn’t hesitate to do such a thing, and it makes me forget that I was planning on being nice to him.
