Chapter 13
Anita
L ocation: Ronan’s private jet
Operation: Head back home
Heading back to Hollow City has so many conflicting emotions and thoughts spiraling in my mind. For a couple of reasons.
Those kids have limited time before Victor attempts to honor his agreements and kill them.
What will happen after? Of course, my plan is to ruin him, but what if this heart detonator is linked to other bombs in the world.
What will I do about Ronan?
What the hell is happening to me?
Those last questions have my chest caving in like I couldn’t take in enough air to fill my lungs. Thinking of that man and the things we did...how we treated each other, has my body taking flights to extraordinary but terrifying places.
“So, Cinderella, you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Ro?” Mal's questioning voice shoots through the air in a whisper, causing me to snap my head at her. Her skin is still a bit flushed from the incident last night, but after we checked on her this morning, she was up, as if she was never injured. Fucking robo woman.
I won’t lie to myself and say I didn't feel relief that she didn't succumb to death.
I open my mouth to retort, but she holds her hand up, looking away. Panic engulfs me, and I pull my jacket closer to my shoulder. I’m worried she’s going to snatch it away and reveal all the teeth marks that Ronan bruised into my skin.
“Now, before you give me some lame excuse, you should know I heard you last night. In my room.”
My eyes bulge and my eyes dart down. Well, that's very unfortunate. I honestly don’t know how to give her an explanation of what’s going on. Only that we kissed. Again. And again. Then we had sex. Very, hot, chaotic, passionate? Sex.
The best sex I’ve ever had.
However, I was vulnerable last night. I cried like a baby, and this morning when we woke up, I can't deny how off I felt. Like I’ve done something wrong even though I didn’t. As if I’m breaking the rules even though I’m a grown woman.
I woke up wrapped deeply in his heavy, muscular arms, baking like an inferno. Whoever said cuddling is comfortable is a liar because it's not. It's idiotic.
Yet, I slept better than I ever had, and the aches I normally experience were no longer there. His body felt too good on mine, and that did something to me. It fiddled with the walls I eagerly put up.
I scurried from under him like a mouse from a hungry cat and rushed to his bathroom. My heart was thumping so hard he could've heard it through the door. I had to take twenty deep breaths before I grew some courage and decided to face him again. I don't know how long I was in there because when I came out, there was mouth-watering food on the living room table, ready for me as if he had the lobby make every last thing in their kitchen.
Then there he was, rays of sunlight casting off him, sitting in his sweats on the sofa, his beautiful, scarred chest on display with a lazy grin looking at me as he made both of our plates.
“I don’t know all the foods you like, only waffles, so I got everything.”
My body melted. A memory I had tucked long away resurfaced. My brother always made sure to bring home the best-of-the-best, homemade buttermilk waffles from my favorite diner. Sometimes Ronan would be with him.
“You remembered,” I said breathlessly, as my heart flips and flutters.
He looked up at me with a gleam to his dark features and said, “I remember more than you know, Anita.”
I inched closer with the hotel sheet wrapped around my naked body, he continued fixing the food until I was near him. We sat in awkward silence (least for me, it was) and ate until it was time to go. I scurried off to my room, got dressed, left the room before Ronan retrieved me, and waited outside in the truck for Bedford and Wicked.
It was all too much; I wanted to ask him what else he remembers. I wanted to talk more about the past and bring up the times when things in our world weren't so complicated and full of evil.
I couldn't. There's no point in digging up the past, so that's why I left before he could come to my room.
I’m not avoiding him. I swear.
You are.
I wouldn't normally care, but how do you act with a man who has seen you shed tears and practically ruined your body until you were too weak to lift yourself?
I don't do this. I’ve never stayed around after a fuck. I do not cuddle with men, and yet, I found myself cocooned with him, like he was my protector. My bodyguard. The blanket I desperately needed years ago when POPOV threw me into a dark hole for a whole week. A shiver rakes up my spine, and I push the thought away, never to think about it again.
I toss her a dry look in return, reaching forward and taking a pinch from my cinnamon roll on the platter before me...even though I tasted everything Ronan ordered. It's really an attempt to get away from her glares and questions.
“Nothing is going on. Last night was...” I blink trying to find the words. “A lot. And you were stabbed. It was chaotic.”
I’m hoping me bringing up her nearly bleeding to death would divert the conversation back to her. I swallow the food and go in for another piece.
She sits up slightly, looking over the seats where the conference section resides before flopping back down to me. “Don’t feed me that bullshit.”
My hopes sink. Shit, I thought that would help. But determination is plastered on her face. She’s going to get an answer one way or another.
“Tell me now or forever hold your peace,” she says, clicking her teeth and reaching for my bun. She breaks a piece off and stuffs it in her mouth.
She was so fast. I didn’t have an opportunity to swat her hand away. I let out a single breath, rolling my eyes to the hood of the jet.
“Gosh, your persistence is impressive, Wicked. Shouldn’t you be laying somewhere, like a wounded warrior?” One more attempt to change the topic.
She curls the side of her mouth with a shoulder shake. “Spill, Cinderella.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, my nerves jittering under my bones. Shit. I’m not good at any of this.
“It’s really nothing. We just had a moment last night.” I finally spit out. I speak low because Ronan and Boone are just a few feet from us.
She cocks her head, her cat-like eyes fixed in a blank stare. “A moment?”
“Yes, a moment. Fuck, what more do you want?”
“Maybe the answer to my question.”
I suck in a thick breath, twisting my head to look out the window as the clouds thicken. I swipe my hand over my brow before facing her again. “We.” I stammer a little, darting my eyes awkwardly and my eyes widening slightly. I hope my body movements would give her that idea.
Her head cocks slightly, and a devilish smile appears. “You fucked.”
My stomach flips like a coin, flipping for heads or tails. “Lower. Your voice.” If she wasn’t wounded, I would have grabbed her. Hell, is this how girls are when they gossip about hooking up with a boy? “Now I see why you don’t have your usual resting bitch face.”
“Screw you,” I say, my temperature rising. I slump slightly while touching my cheeks and eyebrows.
“I would, but my brother already got to you,” she teases.
I shake my head my throat tightens at the memory of him fucking me hard and deep until I was coming harder than ever. Moaning his name as if I were a part of an opera. A pool of desire forms between my thighs when the image switches to him, locking my neck in his large hands while he looked deep into my eyes and filled me with his cum.
I deliberately cross my legs to keep myself at bay.
She continues prodding. “You really are smitten. Look at your cheeks.” She chuckles, pinching them with her bright red fingernails—which are still perfectly manicured despite the disorder last night.
I glare at her, swiping her away.
Mal continues to laugh. She looks at her thigh, scraping a piece of thread lifted from her cargo pants. “Is it serious at least?”
That question flips my stomach in two. Is it serious ? Uhm, no.
We had sex. Does that now equal a romantic relationship? Plus, I’m still balancing what I’m feeling and logic. What it has always done. Protected me and protected my heart. Our line of work is unpredictable, and honestly, downright scary. Last night proved that yet again. Anything can happen, and I’m not sure how I would recover if something detrimental were to happen to him, and now I’m left with pitiful feelings for a dead person.
I want the response to be as professional as possible. “We are just two adults who fucked. Nothing more.”
Something I can't describe flickers over her eyes.
“Ladies.”
My heart falls to my feet at the sound of Ronan's deep voice booming through the jet. Shit, were we too loud? Does he have Supersonic ears, too?
Just my luck.
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