Instead of answering, I grabbed a handful of leather and smothered my face, inhaling until my lungs ached and I was lightheaded.
Cigarettes. Leather. Spice.
Home.
“The fuck?” the voice above me wondered, trying to tug the leather away from my face. “Are you sniffing me?”
I growled.
“Feral, are ya?” he murmured, no longer fighting me for the coat.
I went back to sniffing as fingers carded through my hair.
“Christ!You’re burning up.”
Was I? I had been cold a minute ago, but now I felt fine.
“What the hell are you doing in a box?” he demanded.
“Sleeping,” I answered, turning my face into his chest.
“I’ve been in some sketchy places, but not even I have slept in a box.”
“Tired,” I mumbled, lulled by his scent, warmth, and the steady tone of his voice.
“How long have you been sick?”
“I’m not,” I protested, coughing. Suddenly, my throat felt like it was lined with razor blades.
“We’re going to the hospital,” he declared, the muscles in his arms tightening as he walked.
“No,” I protested, body arching upward. “Put me down.”
“Hard pass. Extra nope.”
“I’m not going to the hospital.”
“You are.”
“I’m not!” I said, flinging myself out of his arms.
He caught me midfall, steadying me as my feet hit the ground. He followed when I straightened and then caught me again when I folded like an accordion.
Grunting, he swept me against his chest, and I sighed. He started walking again, his footfalls heavy on the ground.
“No hospital,” I begged. “I can’t afford it. I just need some rest. Drop me at a motel again. A cheap one. Take the money from my hoodie.” Then I corrected myself. “Your hoodie. But just the money. The shirt’s mine now.”
When he laughed, his chest rumbled with a rich purr. It was like being brushed by velvet. My teeth started to chatter, and the muscles in my legs and arms spasmed with a whole-body tremor.
He said something, but I only heard his voice, not his words. More proof that I trusted him without meaning to. I didn’t even care what he said, just that he was talking.
My eyes drooped as I battled the lure of sleep. “Please, hero,” I implored, slipping my hand beneath his jacket, the softness of his shirt and the body heat emanating through it pure bliss. “No doctors,” I spoke softly before pitifully losing the battle and passing out for the second time in his arms.
CHAPTER
SIX
Ghost
