Chapter Four #2
With my stomach growling, I pull several items from the refrigerator, which is well stocked, and then for the second time I check the locks on the door and windows.
I see Tank in the distance pulling on a smoke.
Scarlet patched up his arm, eight stitches and a dressing, and then he went straight out on watch duty with Ghost. No stopping that guy despite him having a few years under his belt.
My thoughts go back to the events of the day.
The entire rescue mission went to shit halfway through.
The last thing I ever wanted was for little Doctor Scarlet to be in the line of gunfire.
And that is exactly what had happened, big time.
It was too close for fucking comfort. I’ll kill all the Hyenas, each and every one of them, slow miserable deaths watching their guts spill onto the floor, just for that near miss.
“She’s sleeping.” Scarlet comes down the stairs, her hair loose now and spilling around her shoulders.
Thankfully she has a little more color in her cheeks than when we arrived.
“I’ve given her a sedative to help with the nightmares and we talked about other stuff, changed what’s in her mind as she goes off to sleep. ”
“That’s good.” I nod and pull the curtains on the encroaching dusk. It’s been a long day. “You want a steak?”
“You cooking?” She tips her head and studies me. “Can you?”
I let out a sharp laugh. She’s got a nerve. “I can fucking cook.”
“Go on then, make mine medium rare.” She grins and for some reason the curve of her lips and the way her cheeks ball tugs at some long silent emotion in my depths.
“Coming up.” I reach for a frying pan and put it on the stove, light the gas. What is going on with me?
She hops up on the counter, legs swinging, and watches me.
“Here.” I pop the lid on a beer and pass it her way. My eyes slip to her chest, her nipples are just visible through the material of her top.
I know she knows I’m looking. I don’t try and hide it.
“Cheers.” She takes a long drink. “You do know you as good as kidnapped me, right?”
“Not my worst crime.” I chuckle.
“I believe you.” She wipes her index finger over her lips to catch a drip of beer. “That you’ve done worse.”
“You didn’t put up much of a protest.” I add the steaks to the pan. “Hopped on my bike without a backward glance. Proper little back warmer.”
“A what?”
“Never mind.” I should never forget that she’s not part of my world. That would be as damn dangerous as all the other shit. For both of us.
But those worlds, hers and mine, aren’t in this room right now, and all I can think of is her sweet smile and her sexy-as-fuck body. And her scent, does she bathe in fucking flowers or what? It messes with my self-control like nothing else ever has.
“She needs me.” Scarlet gestures to the stairs. “Plus, I took an oath to do no harm. That’s why I came.”
“Very commendable.” The steaks sizzle and I press the spatula into their meaty surface. I swallow and wonder what Scarlet would taste like, down there, on my tongue.
“And what rules do you live by, Reaper?”
I close my eyes, focus, then turn to her and set my butt against the counter. “Loyalty. Respect. Vengeance when it’s due.”
“Does that include the two guys dead on the roadside back there?”
“Yes.” I flick off the gas beneath the steaks and set down my beer. She’s like a goddamn magnet, I have to get closer, learn more. I step up to her so I’m practically standing between her legs. Is it my imagination or does she part them to invite me in?
“And they deserved it,” I say gruffly. “They shot at you, an innocent. That’s not cool and it made me fucking mad.” I stare into her eyes. “You’ve done nothing to them.”
She holds my stare. The brown flecks in her green irises are the color of falling autumn leaves.
“What are you running from?” I ask and take another step forward so her legs are either side of mine.
“I don’t know why you think I am.” Her gaze slips to the left.
I pinch her chin and make her look at me again. “Your accent is East Coast, New York, I’d say.”
“And what of it?”
I raise my eyebrows. “I’m curious. I want to know more about you.”
“Why?”
“You’re intriguing.”
She gives a small laugh and moves her head so I drop her chin. She takes another drink and then licks her lips again, and damn it, my cock twitches. The woman is so fucking sexy but clearly has no idea.
“Why Denver? No wedding ring so no husband to follow. You can work in any ER. Denver is nothing special. I doubt you have family here.”
She says nothing.
“Something happened in New York that you had to get away from.” I nod slowly.
“Someone happened.” Her jaw tightens and she places her drink to one side and folds her arms.
Okay, so now we’re getting somewhere. “A guy?”
“An asshole.”
“Plenty of them about.” I was a rough-and-tough lawbreaker but I was no asshole when it came to women. Women I liked at least, not just when I needed some action—that didn’t count. “What’s his name? Where’s he live?”
“Does it matter?”
“I’ll go take him out.” I point to my Glock on the counter. “You won’t have to worry about him finding you then.” And I’d be true to my word. I’d blow the guy’s brains out if he’d hurt her or even made her cry for that matter.
What is going on with me? That’d be inviting a pile of trouble I had no reason to be dealing with.
“And why would you do that, Reaper?”
She’d asked the question I’d just asked myself. Might as well say it straight up, for both our sakes. “I like you.” I lean a little closer, slow and deliberate, then half smile. “And I figure I still owe you one.”
A rise of color flushes her cheeks? “You do?”
She rests her hand on my cut as if to stop me encroaching into her space any farther.
But I’m standing right between her thighs, our chests almost touching, and she’s filling my vision, filling all my senses.
Been a while since I’d thought about fucking but now .
.. hell, yeah, it’s on my mind in a serious way. And she doesn’t seem to be complaining.
“I don’t worry about him finding me,” she says quietly.
“Oh?” I raise my right eyebrow. “How so?”
She doesn’t speak.
Realization hits me. Damn. She is tough and fucking badass. “Ah, I see.”
“What do you see?” She swallows, more of a gulp.
“You killed him.”
Her jaw tightens and a ghost of fear crosses her eyes.
“Clever woman like you, a doctor, came up with the perfect crime and took your revenge.”
“He hit me. A lot. And it started on our wedding night.” Her bottom lip wobbles just a bit.
My fists clench on the counter. She hasn’t denied it but if he was still breathing, I’d axe off his cock, shove it in his mouth, and then rip his head off just for making her lip quiver, let alone hitting her.
“Motherfucking son of a bitch,” I mutter.
“Kept at it for four years.” She pauses. “That’s why I worked in ER. I could explain away the bruises he wasn’t careful about. Patients can be assholes too.”
“Four years.” I couldn’t keep the shock from my voice. “Why didn’t you—”
“Leave? Good question. To start with, I accepted his apologies, and then when I stopped believing them, but I did believe him when he said he’d find me and kill me if I ever left.”
“Scum of the earth.” I could feel my blood pressure rising. “A guy’s woman should be treasured and respected.”
“I’m glad you think that.”
“I do.”
She pulls in a deep breath. “I had no choice but to neutralize the situation.”
I like her terminology. “I don’t blame you. Not one bit.”
“He was an insulin-controlled diabetic and he liked to drink. It’s a bad combination.”
“So, you waited until he’d had a few and then stuck him with a huge dose of insulin, a drug he took routinely anyway. You knew it would look like a complete accident.” I nod. “And I bet he was too wasted to even know you’d done it. Good plan.”
Her mouth opens and closes. She’s not going to admit to an almost stranger that she committed cold-blooded murder, I get that. She doesn’t need to. Because I also know I’ve hit the nail on the head with my summation.