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Refusing to look at him or make a sound, she wiped her eyes. She’d been given a job to do. He was right. She should have minded her own business and stayed where he told her. For some unfathomable reason, she’d thought maybe she could help. She couldn’t. No big deal.

“Little one, look at me,” he ordered.

The tone of his voice, firm but kind, forced her to comply. Gah! Why did her defenses disappear with this guy?

He searched her eyes, and evidently, even being held by the Midnight family hadn’t improved her poker face. He hid the rage and guilt she’d seen in his eyes seconds before and now looked at her with searching green eyes. No, not just green. His eyes were the dusty grayed blue-green of fresh sage.

He held her eyes for what seemed forever without speaking. Whatever he found there caused him to wrap his hand around the back of her neck and pull her into his chest.

Never, not in her entire life, had anything felt as wonderful as being held to his warm chest with the strongest arms in the world cradling her as if she might break. She loved it, but what the heck? Mixed signals much?

“I’m a dick, Tildi. I’d like to do better, but I know me. I promise to try, but I’m not an easygoing kind of guy. I won’t be able to handle you with the gentleness you deserve. I am the one who can get you home, though. Deal?”

She had no idea why that warmed her heart, but it did. Honesty was something she could appreciate. Although she suspected that while he was trying to be honest with her, he wasn’t being honest with himself. He had plenty of gentleness in him, or she wouldn’t be in his arms.

She attempted a smile. “Deal.”

Her heart stuttered again when he smiled. It tilted higher on one side than the other in a way that caught her heart, and it went all the way to his eyes. When was the last time she’d seen a genuine smile other than when she was the butt of the joke?

Her smile blossomed into something, well, heartfelt.

“Good,” he said. “Now, hand me my Glock and get behind me.”

Her eyes dropped to his chest, and she gasped. “You’ve been bleeding,” she said as if he didn’t already know.

A shrug lifted and dropped his shoulders. “I ran into a few men earlier who forgot to bring their hospitality to work with them today. I’m fine.”

Tugging the end of her shirt sleeve from underneath his jacket sleeve, she dabbed at the bloody cuts on his chest. Each time she finished with one, she blew on it gently as if she could soothe the sting.

Cupping her cheeks with his palms, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“How long did they have you?”

Tildi wished she knew. She’d tried to keep track at first, but it had gotten harder as the days turned into weeks, then months. “I don’t know, exactly.”

She hated admitting that. For some reason, it was humiliating. The blush coloring her cheeks at her admission angered her. She wasn’t the one who’d done anything wrong, darn it. Well, other than being criminally stupid. “A year, I think. Maybe a little more.”

“How are you so sweet after the year you’ve had? You’re like a precious snowflake floating around in a firestorm.”

He thought she was sweet and precious. Her insides warmed, and parts of her she hadn’t felt in a long time tingled again. No one had ever called her anything like that before.

Then she remembered what the Boss had told Boone about his friend. Those words had taken him to a bad place. She’d give anything if she had a way to take his pain away.

Running her thumb along his cheek, she hid the jolt of surprise that hit her when her thumb came away wet. She stared at the tear, feeling his pain as if it were her own. Without thinking, she pressed the tear to her chest, right over her heart. “I’m sorry you feel responsible for someone you cared about being hurt. I know how that feels.”

An expression she couldn’t read crossed his face. “Can you find a way to trust me when I tell you I promise I won’t let anything happen to you?”

“Of course,” she said. For some reason, that made him smile. “What are you going to do?”

“Save our lives,” he replied. He used his bag to break the sea-worn wooden bars lining the window and shoved them off the windowsill.

Tildi was glad he had a plan to get them out of there. Moretti’s assault had given her an adrenaline rush, but that was fading fast, along with her strength.

Mr. Midnight’s voice called out again. “Regrettably, it has come to my attention that I must leave you before our business is concluded. Ah well, duty calls.” After a pause, he added, “Kill the man, keep the girl. We can sell her.”

For the first time in her life, Tildi stuck her tongue out. “You just took over the spot for biggest turd knocker I know!” she yelled out. Turning to Boone, she asked, “Should I still cover the window?”

“Not exactly,” he said slowly.