Page 52 of Dirty Legacy

“Until this is over, we have to assume everything is an attack.”

“Life during wartime.” Deck shows teeth in a happy grin. “Doesn’t get better, does it?”

14

ANGIE

I’m drifting off when I hear the door to my room start to open.

Panic floods me. I haven’t seen anyone but Lisa and Colm since this morning. No sign of Connor and no hint that he’s coming back. I texted with Nadia, watched the TV, and took the longest, most boring bath of my life.

Turns out, being a prisoner is both comfortable and monotonous.

I push up on an elbow as light streams in through the hallway. A figure moves toward me. I want to cry out, call for Colm, scream for anyone, grab for the phone and call Connor, but I can’t seem to move. I’m in a strange bed in an unfamiliar room and I’m freaking out because a bunch of rich, terrifying mobsters want to kill me.

The light flicks on in the bathroom.

I catch a glimpse of Connor.

His face is pale and deadpan. He’s still in the suit from earlier.

And there’s something red and sticky staining his white shirt.

My guts twist in horror. He closes the door, and what the hell was that? It’s after ten at night. Was that blood? All over him?

I’m not thinking straight when I force myself out of bed.

I go to the bathroom. Am I really worried about him right now? Does it matter if my husband’s stabbed and bleeding all over? But the idea of Connor getting hurt bothers me, like a burr in the back of my throat, and I peer inside to make sure he’s okay.

I find him standing beside the shower. He’s reaching in and turning on the water. It sprays and he steps back, wearing only a pair of dark boxer briefs.

His tan skin is etched with tattoos. Every inch of him is covered: thighs, muscular chest, ripped stomach. Roses cover the backs of his hands. Vines creep along his neck. I remember when he fucked me, but this is the first time I’m seeing this much of him. It’s terrifying, how sculpted he is, how beautiful, and I’m so busy ogling my husband’s gorgeous body that I almost don’t notice there’s more blood splattered all over him.

“Oh my God,” I say, covering my mouth. “Connor, what happened?”

He looks back. If he’s bothered that I caught him half naked, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he runs a finger down his cut chest, smearing the blood, mouth twisting. “Must look bad, doesn’t it?”

I rush to his side, forcing my feet to move. My mouth waters the nearer I get, but I tamp down on the desire pooling between my legs. “Let me look at you.” I reach him and touch his arm, fingers trailing along his skin. Goosebumps rise on my arms. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay, angel.” He touches my wrist to stop me. “It’s not my blood.”

“Oh.” My eyes lock on his. They’re dark and deep, and there’s a reservoir of emotion. It takes me by surprise. Connor comes off ruthless and careless, like the world’s his toy to play with and to break as he sees fit. But there’s an exhaustion in him, in the privacy of his bathroom, covered in someone else’s blood. It scares me, but I can’t move away.

“I had business tonight. Go back to sleep.” His fingers touch the small of my back under my crop top. It’s cold and slick. “I’ll be in soon.”

He nudges me away even though he’s hurting. I can see it so clearly, and maybe he’s physically fine, but something bad happened tonight. He wants to protect me from it, I realize with a sudden intensity, and even though he terrifies me in ways I’ve never felt before, I don’t want to leave him alone right now.

I get the impossible-to-ignore urge to take care of him. I’ve always been this way despite myself. I take care of my mother, of my coworkers, of Brad back when we were dating. And now I want to look after Connor, although I don’t owe him anything, and I’d be smart to listen.

“Get in the water.” I bend down and tug off my shorts, kicking them aside. “I’ll help wash you.”

His eyes widen. His mouth opens, his tongue licking against his teeth. His gaze rakes down my body and I realize the mistake; it’s not like I can sponge-bath him in some asexual way.

But damn it, he needs me, and I can’t pretend like I don’t want this.

I’m already pregnant and we’re already married.

What’s another stupid mistake? If it helps him?