Page 39

THIRTY-NINE

SABLE

I ’ve been training with Silas more. It’s been nice to actually be able to train with someone versus doing my normal kickboxing alone in the basement of The Manor.

I wince as I flex my knuckles as Silas opens the door for me.

“Are you okay?” he says.

I nod and mutter a quick, “I’m fine,” before slipping up the stairs toward Kai’s room. The dull pain pulses through my hand. Jeremy’s wraps weren’t great tonight, and I have just a couple of split knuckles.

I just need some bandages.

Kai always has a stash of first-aid supplies in his bathroom—probably for similar reasons for why I need it. I was distracted tonight by Silas’ relentless flirting and touching. I should have made sure Jeremy wrapped my damn hands right.

The room is empty when I slowly open the door, and I let out a breath. I didn’t want to have to explain to him what happened and why Silas didn’t catch it.

Because I didn’t want Silas to take care of me.

I move past his desk with his triple monitors in sleep mode. Beside the bathroom door is a floor to ceiling display of various motorcycle helmets. All different colors and styles. When I reach the bathroom, my fingers fumble through the cabinets until I find what I need—bandages, antiseptic, and gauze. I sit myself on the edge of the bathtub, unwrapping my pathetic attempt at a bandage.

The deep red of my knuckles make me wince as I pulled off the tape. I hiss through my teeth, mentally cursing myself for letting it get this bad. The familiar scent of antiseptic fill the air as I press the cold wipe to my skin. The pain flares briefly, and I bite my lip to keep from making a sound. I hate showing weakness. Hate it.

The door creaks behind me, and my whole body goes still. I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. His presence hits me like a wave before I even have the ability to turn around.

“Levi,” I whisper, barely able to get the word out.

His hands grip my waist, lifting me off of the edge of the tub. He sets me on the bathroom counter like I weigh nothing. His eyes lock onto mine, dark and intense.

“You’re hurt,” he growls, his voice low and edged with anger. It’s not a question. It’s a demand for an explanation, like I’ve committed some unforgivable sin by letting myself get injured.

“I’m fine,” I try to insist.

My heart pounds as his gaze drops to my hand, a deep frown pulling at his lips. There’s something in his eyes—something possessive, protective.

Dangerous.

Without a word, Levi takes control. He grabs the antiseptic from my hand. He isn’t gentle. His movements are deliberate, calculated, but it’s not harsh that I feel. It’s power. And it pulls me in, no matter how hard I try to resist.

Levi cleans my wounds. Every stroke of the antiseptic wipe stings, but I bite down on my lip, refusing to make a sound. His touch is steady, but I can feel the restraint in him, the way he’s holding something back.

Are these the hands of a killer?

If so, why is he so gentle with me?

His hands wrap the gauze around my knuckles with a practiced ease, his fingers lingering on my skin just a moment longer than necessary. The air between us grows heavier with each passing second, and I find myself unable to look away from him. The closeness, the intensity—it’s intoxicating.

When he finally speaks, his voice is rougher, a low rumble that vibrates through me. “Who wrapped you tonight?”

I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. “It doesn’t matter.”

Levi uses a finger to tilt my chin to meet his hardened gaze. “Everything about you matters, trouble.”

My breath hitches, heat pools in my belly. The heat between us is suffocating as his dark gray eyes never leave mine as he continues to wrap the gauze on my hand.

“Who. Wrapped. You?” he asks again, and there’s something in his tone that tells me there won’t be a third time.

“Jeremy.”

Levi growls, mumbling something under his breath as he finishes securing the bandage. “Why didn’t you tell Silas?”

“Didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” I manage, but even to my own ears, the excuse sounds weak.

He’s so close now, his body pressing into mine as he leans forward slightly. I can feel his hard length against the inside of my thigh, the way his breath hitches when he realizes just how close we are. His hand slides to my thigh, and I can’t stop the way my breath catches in my throat.

The tension snaps.

Levi’s grip tightens on my thigh as he leans in, his forehead nearly brushing mine. His voice drops even lower, rough and thick with the desire he’s no longer trying to hide. “You need to stop pretending you’re fine, Sable.”

My mouth goes dry as I stare up at him, every nerve in my body screaming for something, anything, to break the unbearable tension.

Levi notices, too. His eyes darken even further, his grip on my thigh becoming more possessive, more insistent. His thumb brushes against my skin, sending sparks of electricity through me. He’s so close, I can feel the heat of his breath on my lips, can see the way his eyes flicker with need.

But then, just as quickly as it happened, he pulls back, a low growl escaping his throat as he forces himself to step away. His hand lingers on my leg for a heartbeat longer before he finally lets go, turning his back to me as if trying to regain control of himself.

“Get some rest,” he mutters, his voice strained. He takes a deep breath, but I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands clench into fists at his sides. “You’ve done enough for tonight.”

I want to reach out, to pull him back to me, to close the distance that feels like a chasm between us now. But I don’t. I just sit there, my heart still racing, my skin still tingling from his touch, as he walks out of the room, leaving me alone with the lingering heat of his presence.