Page 29

Mason’s smile is so warm. “Hush, you’re okay now.”

“I’m thirsty.”

Mason bends to the side to grab a Styrofoam cup off the table by my bed.

The room I’m in doesn’t seem to be a hospital room, instead decorated like an upscale hotel room.

All the memories from the past few days come rushing back, making me gasp as my free hand flies to my stomach.

I wince when I press too hard, flaring the tenderness of my wounds.

Mason shushes me again and raises the cup to my lips so I can take a sip from the straw.

“Where’s Dante?” I ask once I’ve decimated the cup of water.

“In the room next door,” Mason replies quickly. “He’s okay.”

“I need to see him… take me to him. Please.”

Mason looks like he’s going to argue with me for a long moment, until giving in at whatever look he sees on my face.

It takes a while to get me sitting up, the wounds on my abdomen still tender and covered in bandages.

We shuffle toward the door that must connect our bedrooms with Mason carefully dragging along the IV stand beside me.

Mason knocks on the door and it’s opened a second later by a worried-looking Parker.

But he doesn’t clock me first, instead his gaze falls on Mason, relief washing over him when he finds Mason okay.

I don’t know what that’s about, don’t really care right now, I just have to get to Dante.

Parker takes over for Mason to help me shuffle toward the bed.

Dante lies so still, face so pale, tattoos a stark color against his skin.

Without asking, without hesitation, I climb into the empty side of the bed.

I curl up on my side, close enough to hopefully bleed some of my warmth into him.

The IV painfully tugs at my arm as I sift my fingers through Dante’s dirty curls, fingers catching on the strands caked with his blood.

“Dante, come back to me,” I whisper against his ear. “I love you too, you fucking asshole.”

“Yeah?” comes a quiet voice.

I freeze. Lifting up slightly onto my elbow, I look down at a very clearly awake Dante.

“You fucking asshole!”

His hand reaches out to grab my wrist, tugging me down until my chest is pressed against his arm, but my stomach isn’t touching him anywhere. Dante stares at me for one long moment, eyelashes fanning across his cheek with each slow blink.

“Say it again,” Dante orders tiredly.

“You fucking asshole?”

Dante suddenly looks very exhausted. “No, you know what I want.”

“I love you, jerk.”

“Come here.” Dante tugs me closer until he can kiss me softly, his eyes closed tight while I watch his eyes crinkle with love just from our kiss. “Be a good boy and take a nap with me.”

“You guys just slept for twelve hours,” Jacob groans from across the room.

Dante hums in indifference. “Fuck off. We’re alive. Wake us up in a few more hours.”

I keep my eyes on Dante as the sounds of people leaving the room reaches me. Once we’re alone, I press my forehead to Dante’s, breathing him in despite the smell of sweat and the metallic tang of blood.

“You saved me,” I murmur against the shadow of a beard on his chin.

“Can’t let anyone else hurt you, huh? Only I get to make you cry.”

I don’t laugh, don’t argue. Instead, I lie back down beside him, head tucked against his bicep, his hand hot on the small of my back. Despite not being very sleepy, I fall asleep fast in the comfort of Dante’s arms.

The next time I wake up, it’s to Dante’s hands gently carding through my hair.

That feeling when you nap too long during the day, when you wake up sweaty, disoriented, and like you’ve missed a few years, washes over me.

I press tighter against Dante, hissing when pain flares through my abdomen. Ugh.

“We’re both fucked up,” Dante says with a gentle laugh.

“In many ways,” I agree.

He hums gently, but keeps sifting through my hair, making me want to purr and push closer despite the pain both of our bodies are steeped in. The urge to pee takes precedence though. When I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, the door opens quickly to reveal a harried-looking Jacob.

“Wait, Jesus Christ.” Then his strong hands are there to help me up.

We shuffle awkwardly to the bathroom. The IV is gone now, so it must’ve been removed while I slept beside Dante. It’s the longest piss of my life, and I usually count, so I’d definitely know. Once done, Jacob gently holds my elbow while I wash my hands and look longingly at the shower.

“Not for a few more days. Doctor's orders. Sponge baths only,” Jacob reprimands as if I’m a child.

I wiggle my eyebrows at him. “Are you volunteering?”

Jacob visibly retches. “No.”

Alright, then. Once I’m back in the bed, Jacob repeats the process with Dante.

It would be comical watching Dante, who looms over Jacob, be helped to the bathroom, if it wasn’t for the clear pain on Dante’s face.

They bicker back and forth in the bathroom because Dante probably isn’t any better than me when it comes to being helped, then they’re shuffling back toward the bed.

Dante lies down beside me with a relieved sigh.

Jacob slaps his hands together and promptly disappears back into the other room.

A second later the boys and my still harried-looking brother join us in our room.

I don’t have the energy to care about how I look, not when my body feels like it’s been sliced like a deli ham.

I curl against Dante, letting the warmth of his palm against my hip steady me.

“So, that was crazy,” Jacob says with a whistle.

“And our only lead is dead,” Parker notes wryly.

Hayden chuckles darkly. “Look, Reid, you’ve got to tell us what the big Russian told you.”

“He just kept asking who you guys answered to,” I tell them honestly, wrung out and tired. “Wanted to know what I knew… why I meant something to you.”

Dante’s hand squeezes my hip tight. “I’ll kill him.”

“Settle down, big guy. I’m here now.” I smile against Dante’s chest when his fingers dip down to possessively curve over my ass. “He didn’t seem that excited to be torturing me.”

I lift my head to watch Hayden sit down on the corner of the bed as he flicks through an iPad. He flips it over to show me a picture of Claude, maybe a little younger, but it’s definitely the same guy that spent a few hours making my life hell the other day.

“The Carver,” Hayden supplies as the other boys look over his shoulder. “Russian hired killer for more people than I can count. He was expensive, so whoever hired him definitely wanted to know whatever it is that you know.”

“But I don’t know anything and that’s what I told him.”

“That’s not true,” Parker argues, eyebrows furrowed. “You know we answer to Robin. You know we steal from the evil to give back to those that deserve it.”

I shrug and lift my head to rest it over Dante’s chest. “Didn’t need to tell him that. He seemed to already know.”

“Oh?” Hayden says, blinking quickly.

“Hmmm. He knew. He just wanted to know if there were more of you. He said the local drug kingpin hired him, but he was there for his own answers.”I shrug as well as I can despite the pain. “He was getting paid to fuck with me, but wanted answers for himself.”

Hayden stands quickly from the bed, looking stricken. “What?”

“Yeah,” I say through a yawn. “He kept asking if I knew about the others. What cities you were all in and how you communicated. I told him the hell if I know, I’m not part of the group.”

Jacob snorts. “Well, kid, you are now whether you want to be or not.” Jacob aims a sidelong glance at Mason who’s wringing his hands while we all talk. “So’s your brother. Better safe in the circle than dead on the outside.”

Mason visibly blanches, face paling. “Great!”

“Mason,” I say softly, lifting my head up until our gazes meet. “I’m fine. We’re going to be fine.”

The main door to the hotel slowly opens to reveal a silver fox and Mandy.

I was so out of it from surviving and telling Dante that I loved him that I hadn’t even put any thought into how we survived.

Mandy pushes past the man to hurry toward my side of the bed.

That feels wrong. Shouldn’t she go to Dante first.

Her hands brush my hair back as she takes me in, eyes flitting over my face almost to ensure I’m still alive. This is weird. My face must echo my thoughts because she pulls away with a slightly harried chuckle.

“Sorry. Your injuries were just so bad… it’s so nice to see you up and awake.”

“Okay,” I say because I don’t know what else to fucking say.

“Hello? What am I? Chopped liver?” Dante grumbles as he takes in the scene in front of him.

Mandy rolls her eyes. “You’re fine, you big lug.”

“She likes my boyfriend more than me,” Dante complains, fingers pressing tighter against my thigh.

Mandy backs away to join the smirking doctor at the edge of the bed.

“Mandy can normally handle the smaller injuries on her own, but she called me in when she realized Dante had an entrance wound for the bullet, but no exit. So, this guy got surgery to remove the bullet.” The doctor stares Dante down, hard, making me squirm a little on the bed.

But Dante is unmoving because he’s Dante.

“You are on bedrest for weeks. You’ve got twenty-five stitches, you’re at risk for internal bleeding, and your boyfriend here is almost just as bad. ”

I gasp dramatically. “I had a gunshot wound?”

Mason sighs deeply. “Reid.”

“No, but you have almost as many stitches and you lost enough blood to need a transfusion from your very kind brother over here.”

“What’s your name so I can stop calling you the doctor in my head when you say something that pisses me off?” I ask with a sneer. Dante’s hand tightens on my hip, so I soften my sneer, making it an unpleasant grimace instead.

“Eric.”

“Thank you, Eric,” Dante says without any malice. “We’d have been dead if you didn’t help Mandy take care of us. So, thank you.”