“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to use this.” She pointed down at the terrifying black metal. “I’m actually here so I don’thaveto use it at all. Because, believe me, it would be easier if I could, but, well, that’s now how this plays out tonight.”
“What do you mean?” Mitchell asked, voice still wobbling but at least loud enough to not be ignored. “Wh-where am I?”
He knew he was in a house, a living room, but there was nothing in his surroundings that led him to believe someone had been living in it. The furniture that was around was hidden bydust covers, the walls around them were bare, and despite the cold outside, the heater was obviously turned off and had been for a while. Even the chair he was splayed across felt rigid and cold.
However, despite the lack of life around him, Mitchell couldn’t help but feel it was familiar.
The only person who knew the answer for sure smiled at him.
“I’d be less worried about where you are now and more concerned about where you’re going next.” That smile didn’t change, but her gloved hand moved just enough that she could point down at the gun in her lap. “Because this gun?”
Pain was radiating across Mitchell’s body, his stomach felt ready to empty at any moment, and neither could compete with the rising fear in his chest.
However, when the woman spoke again, every fiber of his attention attached to her words.
“It’s not mine, Mr. Keys,” she said. “It’s yours. And I’m here to make sure you use it. So why don’t we go ahead and get this job going.”
Chapter Fifteen
There was a lot, she guessed, that they could have said. Eve, in bed at Darius’s side, careful to keep her distance. Darius, in bed at Eve’s side, polite enough to not comment on the fact that she had once again invaded his space. Yet, neither one spoke after she adjusted the blanket around her neck, trying to get warm.
And after that?
She fell asleep to silence.
It wasn’t until she opened her eyes again that she finally felt the need to say something to the boy next door, now a man with a badge and a six-pack.
Mainly because, when she woke, the space Eve had been careful to give him had disappeared somewhere in the night. That chiseled upper body she had been in awe of the week before? She no longer wondered if it felt as impressive as it looked.
Eve woke up on top of it, her chin on his shoulder, her chest and stomach against his, and one leg pulled over him like she was his personal seat belt, and he wasn’t going anywhere unless he unbuckled.
But it didn’t seem like he had been trying to undo said seat belt during his shut-eye either. One of his hands—warm and big—was resting on the bare skin of her thigh, her shorts having shifted during sleep. The other hand and arm that weren’t bandaged had wrapped around Eve to accommodate her position. She felt his fingers flex on her lower back as he also stirred from sleep.
For all the years she had slept in the same room with Darius Williams, waking up in such a position was a first.
A first that felt extremelyintimate.
Eve might have just woken from sleep, but she was immediately and keenly aware that there was something else she could feel beneath the fabric of both of their sleeping attire. Something just south of the muscles she had been admiring.
Her face heated—her body heated—and she readied to apologize for stepping over a line she herself had drawn to give the man a boundary from her.
But something was wrong.
The hand on her thigh tightened, and her chest rumbled as Darius spoke three words, low.
“Eve, go hide.”
It was the equivalent to ice water being thrown onto her face. Any vestiges of sleep, or thoughts of Darius’s body, turned into alert obedience. Eve unbuckled herself from Darius and slid out of bed on swift but quiet feet. By the time she was crossing the threshold of the attached bathroom, Darius was already on his feet, heading for the gun on hand.
If it wasn’t for the small light on in the bathroom behind her, Eve wouldn’t have been able to see his expression.
But she could, and it let her know absolutely one thing without any context: their quiet night was about to take a turn.
Darius motioned for her to go deeper into the bathroom, a simple point-and-go. She wanted to ask what had woken him, what he had heard, what he thought was happening. Instead, she backed up and watched as he slowly turned the doorknob.
Eve held her breath. Part of her had expected to jump. But nothing, and no one came through.
That didn’t stop Darius.
