I’m lost, emotionally bereft, as much alone as I’ve ever been, even though he’s here with me and Haynes is dead.
A sob escapes before I can bite it back.
Alex spins at the sound, concern in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
The question is so absurd it leaves me speechless. My brain cycles through a dozen scathing retorts before stalling out entirely.
Alex shakes his head. “Sorry. Reflex. Of course you’re not. What I mean is…” He grimaces, an emotion passing across his face I can’t identify. “Let’s just get out of here.”
He came for me. Whatever that message said, however he found me, he’s here. He killed a man for me, in cold blood, without hesitation, without remorse. Not for the Company, not for leverage, not for any reason inhisworld. He did it for me.
I nod once, then again, more vehemently. “Yes. Please.”
He hesitates, rocks forward like he’s going to help, then back again. And stands there, watching me.
Of course he doesn’t want to touch me; I’m covered in vomit. After a day spent tied in that chair, I’m not sure I can manage by myself, but I have to try. I grip the arms, levering myself up, my legs trembling. My joints are too stiff, my limbs too weak. I can’t do it, and sag back into the chair.
“Give me a minute,” I mutter.
But Van Wyk could be here any time. We don’thavea minute.
“Can I…” Alex hesitates, wearing a kicked-puppy expression that I’ve never before seen on his face. It doesn’t suit him. “Will you let me help?”
Why is he asking? I don’t understand.
“Of course.” I grimace, knowing he doesn’t want to touch me. “I’m sorry I’m covered in…” I don’t want to say it. “…such a mess.”
“I don’t care about that.” He steps forward, reaches for me, then stops. “Actually, should we take this shirt off? Would you be more comfortable?”
“Hell yes.” I glance at the table; my sweater’s there. My jeans. It’s enough.
“Do you… shall I do it?”
Do I repulse him so much? Of course I do. But he’s just said he doesn’t care about the vomit. I don’t understand this sudden reticence. The messages are so mixed. “What is it, Alex? What’s the matter? Why won’t you look at me, or touch me?”
He blinks. Twice. Meets my eyes, looks away, then back again. His jaw tightens, resolve returning. “I know you’re disgusted with me. I’m sorry for that. But I’m not sorry I killed him; I’d do it again.”
Guilt. It’sguilt. That’s why it looks so strange; I didn’t know Alex was capable of feeling it.
It’s not guilt that he killed Haynes—he’s just come straight out and told me that. It’s guilt because he thinks I’m going to reject him.
My heart flips.
“I love you,” I say softly. “You’ve never disgustedme in your life. I don’t think you could do anything that would.” His eyes tighten then relax. He looks like he’s about to speak, but I keep talking; I need to say it, I need him to hear it. “Iwantedyou to kill Haynes. After what he did to me…” Alex’s eyes flash with pure rage, like he wants to kill him again. Then it fades, his control reasserting itself. “Van Wyk could be here any minute. I want to be gone before then. I can’t stand… my legs are too weak. I’m not sure I can even dress myself.” I pause, then say something I never thought I’d say to this man. “I need your help.”
Alex doesn’t move straight away, he just looks at me, expression unreadable. Then his eyes harden, jaw tensing, resolve returning. “Right,” he says firmly, back to the Alex I know and love. “We’re done here.”
He reaches for my shirt, and again pauses mid-motion. “One second.” He grabs the knife from the table and turns back to me. “Hold still, Tink.”
Tink.Am I being petulant right now?
No. Somewhere along the way, it’s become his name for me.
I’m okay with that.
The knife makes short work of my T-shirt, and the reason’s clear: it’s a mess. I don’t even want to look at it, the white material stained all the colors of my puke. If he’d tried to pull that off me, he’d have wiped it on my face. Consideration, too? A whole new Alex.
In seconds, I’m naked from the waist up.
