He nodded once. “I’ll take care of it.”
Strangely, a weight lifted off my shoulders, one I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying. Suddenly overwhelmed, I ducked my head, trying to blink back the rush of tears and the tightness in my chest.
His much larger body was so graceful when it lowered before me, hands so tender when they engulfed mine. “There’s medicine that could help you?”
I nodded. “But I’ll never be cured.”
“I’m getting you to a doctor.”
My hand closed around his. “I don’t have insurance. Treatment is so expensive.” I’d looked up a few of the popular medicines once. Thousands of dollars for a single month. And that didn’t include the doctor visits.
“Money doesn’t matter.”
“Rich people always say that.”
He laughed.
I realized I’d spoken out loud and glanced up, sheepish. “You’re probably as rich as Kieran.” Apparently, killing for the government paid well.
The corner of his lips curled up. “Probably.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Do you want me?” he asked.
“Yes.”So much.
He lifted my hand to press kisses against the palm. “Packa bag, Pip.”
“A bag?”
He pushed to his feet and glanced around. “You can’t stay here.”
“But it’s my home.”
“No.” The finality in his tone was shocking.
“No?” I squeaked.
“Your home is with me. So pack your stuff. We’re leaving.”
I pushed to my feet, wobbling a little. “Y-you want me to move in with you?”
“We sure as hell aren’t living here.”
“Can Harold Jr., Spike, and Hercules come?”
“Go ahead and bring another man home. He’ll be dead before he makes it to the welcome mat.”
“You have a welcome mat?”
“Hell no. Nobody is welcome at my place.” His face softened. “Except for you.”
I went over to the windowsill where my plants sat. I put them in the window sometimes for light because this apartment was terribly dark. I pointed to them in order. “Harold Jr., Spike, and Hercules.”
“Mm-hmm, I knew it. Married with kids by dinner,” he murmured.
“What?”
