Her tone darkened. “We agree.”
“Bonu,” I crooned, satisfied that her bloodlust made a reappearance when it counted.
“Stan! Kitty! Your hot chocolates are ready!”Matrihollered.
“Can you stand?”
“Yes.” She pursed her lips. “I’m fine, Stan. I am. Really. You can baby me all you want so long as you know that I would have gone to the hospital if I needed to.”
I knew that was a lie. Just because she didn’t want anything getting back to her family via the Five Points’ surveillance system.
Still, mymatrihadn’t raised a fool so I tugged her into me. When she let me hug her, when she hugged me back, so gingerly that I knew it hurt her, I recognized that tonight wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. But she was here and that was what mattered to me.
“STAN!”
She snickered atMatri’ssecond call, but I shook my head. “You laugh now. Just you wait.”
Kitty’s lips curved as far as they could without her wincing. “My ma’s Irish, Stan. You think yours is bad? You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
TWELVE
KITTY
Even before I woke up, my body knew today was different.
I could feel the aches and pains threatening to drown me while I slowly drifted into wakefulness.
Everything hurt. Everything.Literally everything.
In all honesty, I’d been in a car crash that had hurt less than this. Which seemed impossible considering whiplash was a grade-A cunt, but tell that to my body.
When I got up to pee, I groaned.
“Let me help,duci.” Stan appeared from out of nowhere. Hell, I’d thought he was still sleeping.
Sneak.
“Yeah. You can help.” He re-tucked me into his hold, movements slow and measured, then carried me into the connecting bath. “See,” I chided before he could give me shit for trying to get out of bed on my own. “I’ll ask when I need assistance.”
His nose scrunched. “I suppose I should be grateful for that concession.”
“You should be, yes.”
When he chortled, it registered that my good humor diminished the perpetual worry in his expression.
Worry for me.
Yesterday evening had been one of the most surreal nights of my life. And I’d already lived through bomb blasts, a private jet malfunction, and now a kidnapping.
In a weekend.
Never mind what had happened in the run-up to meeting Stan.
But for all that these experiences had a surreal nature, nothing beat being at the center of this man’s focus.
The prospect of becoming the center of his world had a quiver racing down my spine, and with the state of my body, I wasn’t up to quivers, shivers, shudders, or judders.
“Where does it hurt?”
