Dante
My eyes snap open.
Wrong ceiling.
Wrong light.
Wrong—
I reach for the gun that isn't there. My hand closes on empty sheets.
"Hey."
Marina's voice cuts through the panic.
I blink. Focus.
She's sitting in a chair beside the bed. Legs tucked under her. Hair loose around her shoulders. Watching me with a small smile on her face.
Not gone.
Not taken.
Safe.
The tension drains from my body so fast it leaves me dizzy.
"Christ." I drag a hand over my face. "How long have you been sitting there?"
"A while."
"Watching me sleep?"
"Returning the favor."
I grunt. Fair enough.
The room comes into focus. Lorenzo's penthouse. The safe house. Forty-two floors above Denver where no sniper can reach us.
Marina is still smiling.
Something loosens in my chest. A knot I didn't know was there.
"What time is it?"
"Four."
"Four?" I push up on my elbows. Pain shoots through my side but I ignore it. "In the afternoon?"
"You needed the sleep."
Six hours. I slept for six hours without waking once. Without nightmares. Without reaching for a weapon.
I can't remember the last time that happened.
"I made breakfast," Marina says. "Eggs. Toast. Coffee. The whole thing."
My stomach growls on cue.
