Chapter 27 #2
“Cosmo,” I murmur. “His name is Cosmo.”
I rub my chin over his head until he gives a little doggy sigh and relaxes into me.
God, he’s small in my arms. I’ve never experienced anything like the emotion that burns through me when he closes his button eyes and tucks his head into the crook of my elbow.
Winning Rue’s trust was one thing, but that happened over countless mailbox conversations and, as it turns out, three meetings in the houses of dead men.
This tiny animal asked no questions, just came right to us even after we…
I turn to look at the body in the room with us. Rue’s eyes follow mine.
“I’ve never killed someone whose name I didn’t know,” she says softly.
“This isn’t how I do things either,” I reply.
My eyes fall on the dog next. I would’ve killed that man for the way he treated the warm creature in my arms. Both of the warm creatures in my arms. I gather them closer until Rue pulls away to peer at me.
“Are you okay? You cannot get a second concussion right now.”
“I’m fine.” I shake my head, but as I do, I privately admit I’m not.
With the rush from killing and fucking receding, my shoulder aches from the man’s haymaker, my knee twinges from bashing it against the floor when I tackled him, and my head is fucking killing me, the concussion pain wrapping its tentacles around my brain yet again.
I give her the full Dr. Mohr smile to reassure her, hiding the wince caused by the lights in the room. “Don’t worry, neighbor girl. I know how to take a hit.”
“All evidence to the contrary—” She brushes her fingers over the healing bruise above my brow. “This was murder-related, wasn’t it?”
“Actually, no.” Before I can explain, I spot something small and white on the floor. “Oh god. Is that a tooth?”
I turn away to dry heave, and Rue laughs drily. “Really? The back of his skull is pulp and his face is a punching bag, and it’s that one bloody incisor that gets you?”
“Teeth belong in heads,” I say through shallow breaths.
It’s not actually the tooth, and it’s more than my concussion nausea, too, although that’s not helping.
I’ve killed without flinching for years, but tonight, I had to hold perfectly still and trust that our panicked, silent plan wouldn’t get Rue killed.
Now the danger’s passed, something had to give.
“My big, scary man.” She grins, rubbing slow, soothing circles on my back until my breathing slows. Eventually, she looks back at the scene and sighs. “This is a mess.”
“It is.” And that means one thing, unfortunately. I retrieve my phone from my pocket and tap a number, with Cosmo and Rue still cuddled into me like we’re not in the middle of the sloppiest murder I’ve ever committed.
“Who are you calling?”
“My fixer,” I say as it connects and Pell’s face fills the screen of the video call.
“Hey there, Dr. Mohr,” Pell drawls. Then his face splits into a wide grin when he catches sight of Rue. “And neighbor girl! You two crazy kids finally met for real. That makes me happy as a dead pig in sunshine.”
“You know Hugo?” Rue pushes away from me to sputter into the phone.
“You know Pell?” I sputter right back. Then it hits me in the sternum: Pell knew. All along, he knew who I shared a wall with. In fact, he probably knows her better than I do in some ways.
The thought has me narrowing my eyes at the man on the screen. I’ve never taken on the pretty-boy former Marine, but I’ve never had this kind of incentive before.
A tiny smile touches Pell’s lips, telling me he saw every half-formed threat that just crossed my face.
“Aw, you lovebirds adopted a dog. Beagle with a li’l Jack Russell, yeah?” He cocks his head. “Be a good gator snack.”
A growl bursts from my throat as I drape my hand over Cosmo’s ears.
“Stand down,” Pell says with a chuckle. “Now why’re you interrupting my Thursday night crochet circle, and whose blood are you covered in?”
Rue and I exchange a glance. He’s talking to us from someplace dark and outdoors, so I doubt he’s serious. But with Pell, you never know.
I press a kiss to the top of Rue’s head and stand, Cosmo tucked into the crook of one arm. Pushing through the wave of dizziness, I flip the camera to show Pell the body on the ground.
He gives a low whistle. “The fuck did you two get up to tonight?”
Rue clambers to her feet too, holding the cut halves of her leggings together and pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation. “Can you please just tell us you’ll handle it?”
“Don’t I always?” His molasses-slow drawl evaporates as he shifts into work mode. “Text me the address, and I’ll be there with a crew.”
Rue pulls out her phone and starts typing.
“I don’t need both of you for this,” Pell says. “Bellamy, you stay. I want your day-job smarts. Mohr, go home. I sent you my doctor a week ago, and you still look like shit.”
He hangs up, leaving us staring at each other in silence until Cosmo starts whining. I set him gently on the floor, and he gives a little huff before trotting a few feet away, curling into a ball, and promptly falling asleep.
“Obviously I’m staying,” I say.
“Obviously I’m staying,” she fires back. “Even if Pell hadn’t decreed it, you need to rest. I was there on Friday, remember?”
“I remember,” I say softly. Rue on my couch, at my kitchen island, in my arms.
Here with me now.
“Hugo.” Her exasperated voice pulls me back, and I look up to see she’s swapped her ruined leggings for a fresh pair from her bag. “You faded out just now. You’re pale and squinting. Go home.”
“Cleanup is dangerous. I’m not leaving you alone.
” I fold my arms over my chest and glare at her around my spiking headache.
It… could be more effective. Another wave of dizziness hits, and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Still, I say, “The only thing I’ve wanted for five hundred and ninety-seven days is to take care of you. ”
Shit. I can’t pass that specificity off as a joke this time, but thank god she just slides her arms around my waist.
“And you can, starting tomorrow. Tonight, let me take care of you.”
I slowly let myself sag into her. “My head’s killing me,” I admit, resting my cheek on top of her head. “If I go, will you play with my hair afterward until I fall asleep?”
I didn’t mean to say that out loud, but it’s my favorite memory from our only night together.
She tightens her arms around me. “All night, if that’s what you want.”
“I do,” I say, completely serious.
“Deal. And seriously, don’t worry about me. The last time Pell gave me trouble, I lightly drugged him.”
“Really?”
“A tiny bit of paralysis,” she says breezily. “He got better.”
I laugh. “You and Quinn need to meet for real. He’s her favorite thing to complain about.”
The implications of my slip hit her immediately. “Wait, Quinn’s… like us?”
I straighten.
“Um.” Shit. “She’s, um…”
I see her decide to let it go, just like I see the “for now” that comes with it.
And that’s fine because I want all her secrets, too.
I wrap a hand around the back of her neck and kiss her again, and she sinks into me, her hips tilting to meet my immediately hard-again cock, lingering head injury be damned.
But she cuts me off with a quick nip to the center of my lower lip.
“Get out of here.” She hits me with a playfully fierce expression. “And I want to find you resting when I’m done. Don’t make me bust out the blackmail material I have on Gomez.”
The pain in my head flares at even a teasing mention of evidence against me, but when I see Rue’s happy grin, I smile back. Joking about the dark things we do is why this is going to work. Hell, we can do those dark things together, then get naked afterward.
It’s the life I never allowed myself to want, unfurling in front of me.
“I’ll be in bed waiting for you, no blackmail necessary,” I assure her. Ignoring my headache, I crouch and stroke a hand down Cosmo’s back. He lifts his head to study me with somber brown eyes.
I’m not equipped to care for something this small, so I glance up at Rue. “You’ll make sure Pell finds a good owner for him?”
“Of course I will,” she says gently.
“You’ll be better off, buddy,” I tell the dog. “Your owner wasn’t a good guy.”
He licks my hand, which I take as agreement, and I give him one final pet before standing. It takes a beat longer than it should for me to fully straighten, which is extra confirmation that I’m doing the smart thing.
I’m about to leave when I’m gripped by the sudden fear that I’m still in the parking lot of the women’s shelter, about to wake up from this dream that’s fulfilled every one of my unspoken desires.
“This is real, right?” I ask, unembarrassed by the naked hope in my voice. “You’re not going to disappear on me?”
She smiles back. “I’ll see you at home, Hugo.”