Page 22

Water traveled down my face as I quickly snatched her other wrist and slid it beneath my hand, trapping both of them above her head. A tiny knife that wasn’t the one I made her trembled in her bound fingers. “What happened to the daggers I made you?” I asked and yanked this one out of her grasp.

“Let me go,” she grumbled, squirming against me. I simply stared at her hand, tossed the weapon that would do very little damage to me out of the shower through the crack left by the curtains, and brought my hand back to her wrists. Slowly, I slid my fingers down the side of her arm. Heat danced beneath my touch, as soft as a flower petal, yet I knew the stubbornness that slithered through her veins.

Goosebumps pricked upon her skin at my touch, a visceral reaction that ignited a fire within me. She thrashed harder, but all I did was lean tighter into her body, feeling every muscle of hers coil beneath the thin tank top she wore. Cargo pants just like she’d always worn swished withher movements, quickly dampening beneath the water they soaked in from my body as her legs tightened around my waist.

“Cher, no matter how hard you try, it won’t work,” I admonished as she grunted again and attempted to twist her wrists from my one hand.

I dropped my finger from her arm and finally looked into her eyes. Green and moody and just as sharp as ever. “Now, what the fuck are you doing sneaking into my bathroom with a knife that literally cannot do anything other than annoy me?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips. “You’re going to fix this shit you caused.”

“What shit?”

She turned her head away and stared at the white tile against the other wall. “Well, apparently this Robert O’Connor fuckface didn’t know about you. So, he showed up last night to collect on the debt my family owes and told me he’s put a temporary pause on coming after your family until he figures out who you are.”

Due to the nature of my job that she was unaware of, and the circumstances I’d knowingly flown back into, both Griffin and Mikey had helped conceal my records and almost everything they possibly could online before I’d even set foot here. I was a literal ghost right now.

“I’m sorry, Cher, but tell me how you’d like me to do that when it clearly wasn’t my fault they didn’t do proper background checks?” I asked, and she whipped her gaze back to me.

“When the hell did you get so sassy? You never talked back to me like that before,” she hissed. “I mean, not unless you were teasing. And youknow what, can we also talk about this whole…pinning my wrists above my head?”

“After we talk about you attempting to sneak into my shower to kill me. Ineffectively, I might add, but all the same.”

Her lip curled. “Did I even sort of scare you?”

I raised my brows as this woman who had once, yes, sort of terrified me, now simply seemed…cute.The fuck, Ford?Colette was anything but cute when she got angry. I still remember nearly losing my fucking belly button the last time she was upset at me. Now, she’scute?

I think I needed to see a therapist.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.

“Fuck? All you have to say is… fuck?” she asked and thrashed against my restraint, again.

“Will you stop, Cher?” I rolled my eyes.

She shook her head. “No. Not until you tell me why you said fuck? And why you’re not really all that surprised about O’Connor’s tactic? Or the fact that you didn’t seem startled to find me in the bathroom holding a knife?”

I tipped my head as she finally stopped squirming and her body relaxed against mine. “Because you asked if I was even a little scared, and my first thought was how you’re being really cute. Which—”

“CUTE? I AM NOT CUTE! I AM ANYTHING BUT CUTE!” she shouted, but didn’t fight against my hold this time. Instead, she crossed her ankles and hooked her heels behind my back.

I grinned, a chuckle dancing within my chest. “Cute.”

“Oh, fuck you, Ford. When I get out of this, I will stab you. Again, and again. With my tiny knives that apparently only annoy you. Except I saw how you kept grimacing when I was simply stitching you up.” Her gaze darted down my body and paused at the wound she’d sewn up a couple days ago, and then her eyes widened.

“Oh my hell. You didn’t keep it dry.” Her voice caught in her throat as she ripped her gaze back up to my face. She gasped for air through the tension that slithered around us. Her eyes darted back down to my hips that held her pinned to the wall and then back up again. “You’re— You’re naked.”

“What’d you expect? Me to bathe with fucking clothes on? I’m older than you by four days, not stupid.”

“Except you didn’t keep your stitches dry.”

“I’ll dab it dry with a towel when I get out. I don’t need perfection, Cher.”

“You’re still naked.” She pursed her lips and then tipped her head. Her chest rose faster, and pink bloomed in her cheeks. “And you uh…” She swallowed stiffly, her gaze darting around the shower at everything but me. “You were never quite this… this big when you left.”

I pinched my brows together. “Cher, baby, we’ve already established that I’m taller—”

“I wasn’t talking about your height, you asswipe,” she hissed, and I sucked my lips in between my teeth.