Page 72 of Deadly Obsession

After setting the ear buds on the counter, she turns the faucet on and sticks her fingers and palm under the water.

“Do you need ice?”

She shakes her head. “Ice could make it worse.”

“I’m sorry. I was trying to be cute.”

“No need to try, Elias. You’re already cute.”

“And sexy?”

She rolls her eyes, struggling to hold back her smile.

“Did you bake cookies?”

Her smile pushes through her anger, and her face lights up.

“I did. I started my period, and I desperately needed sweets. You didn’t have anything, so I ordered delivery to make some.” She holds up a finger, anticipating my complaint. “Don’t worry. I used the credit card you left me. I’m broke, not stupid. And, yes, I sent one of your guards to get the groceries from the lobby.”

She turns off the water and dries her hands with the towel hanging on the front of the stove.

Grabbing a cookie from the plate sitting on the counter, she holds it up to my mouth.

“Here, try.”

I take a big bite out of the sweet treat. It’s ooey, gooey, chocolatey, and...

Oh. Fuck.

“Sage,” I mumble. “Are there nuts in this?”

“Yep! Walnuts. My fav.”

I curse and spit the rest of my bite into the sink. Her eyes widen.

“Holy shit, Elias. Are you allergic to walnuts?”

“Walnuts, cashews, pecans... all tree nuts, but they’re not as bad as peanuts.”

The last two words sounded garbled as my tongue starts to swell. I take off my suit jacket and toss it to the floor before reaching for my EpiPen and inhaler. I keep them in a custom-made holster that sits under the shoulder holster for my guns. I check my Benadryl bottle, which I alsokeep in the holster, and curse realizing I’m out of pills and forgot to refill it.

“Benadryl. Bathroom.”

She understands, despite my words being strained, and before leaving the kitchen, she tosses the whole plate of cookies into the trash.

While she’s gone, I stab myself in the thigh with the medicine and use my inhaler. Sage returns after a couple minutes wearing medical gloves. Fuck, I didn’t even think to tell her to wash her hands and put on gloves.

She hands me two pills, and I swallow them down without water.

“Should I call 911?”

I shake my head, already feeling the epinephrine working its way through my system. I unarm myself and loosen the collar of my dress shirt to help me breathe better, then I fish my phone from my pants pocket and shoot a text to my doctor. He lives in a condo a few streets away, so he’ll be here within five minutes.

I also text my cleaner who lives in the building. They’ll need to sanitize the kitchen and toss the contraband.

“What do you need, Elias? Let me help you.”

Sage’s concern nearly has me struggling to breathe for a different reason. I rarely have someone offer to take care of me.