Page 34

Chapter

Thirty-One

GRACE

I didn’t think we’d been down there longer than a few hours, yet it felt like an eternity passed. I stayed for all of it. From Legend breaking the man’s kneecaps to the shattering of each of his feet to when they began to carve pieces off of him.

The horror of it all seemed permanently etched into my brain. Not because of what they did to him—frankly, Reznik was trash. He traded in people. He made his money off the suffering of others. He’d also betrayed the guys. He’d betrayed them and cost them.

No, I was fine with them taking him apart. What I couldn’t quite shake was how long he held out. How much pain he endured before he finally started answering questions. Even though it had been cool in the root cellar, I was sweaty and gross.

Once back up in my room, I stripped and climbed in the shower. I scrubbed every inch of me, then washed my hair. By the time I rinsed off, I’d rediscovered some measure of peace. How much hate and spite did you need to harbor toward people to endure that much pain?

I wrapped up in a towel after I squeezed all the excess water out of my hair. Imagining it was the stress, the memories, and the pain I squeezed out also helped. Sighing, I let myself out into the bedroom.

“Don’t be too surprised.”

The voice came from across the room, calm and gentle.

Alphabet was there, seated in a battered armchair near the window, a tablet in hand, boots unlaced, sleeves rolled. He hadn’t looked up yet. The tablet he’d had earlier was in his lap. Goblin lay sprawled on the floor, snoring. He thumped his tail once then closed his eyes again.

“Hey,” I murmured, moving to the bag to fold up the clothes I’d changed out of. The sweatshirt was huge and I loved it, so it was going in my bag.

“Hey,” he answered, closing the tablet he held and setting it aside.

“How are you doing, AB?” I pulled out clean panties and a sports tank with a built in bra. I had one pair of clean jeans left and another pair of yoga pants. I tugged the latter out.

“Pretty sure I should be asking you that,” he murmured, studying me.

“Well, you can, but since I asked first.” Since I was still in a towel, I had a few of choices.

Go back into the bathroom to get dressed, wiggle into panties one-handed, just drop the towel here and dress, or set the clothes aside for now and stay in my towel.

“Will you tell me if something else is wrong?”

Huffing out a half-laugh, he shook his head. “You already learned how to ask questions carefully. Not asking ‘if something is wrong,’ but ‘if something else is wrong.’”

“I like to think of myself as a fast learner.” I set the clothes aside and crossed the room to him.

With care, I eased onto the arm of the chair.

This angle put me closer to eye level with him.

I braced one hand on the back of the chair and trusted the towel knot to do its job.

“I know there’s lots of stuff wrong. There’s a few things that are right too, but… today was a lot.”

He dismissed that with a shrug. “Weirdly, not as much as you might think it was, Gracie.”

“Okay.”

As he stroked his hand along my thigh, he studied me. I’d seen the same look in Lunchbox’s eyes earlier. When he told me I could stay but it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Just okay?” A boundless kind of curiosity reflected in his blue eyes.

“Yes, you know what is a lot or not for you. I accept that. Just like I accept that something else is wrong or maybe it’s just more of the same. You really haven’t been sleeping.”

That last part worried me most at the moment. I stroked my fingers through his hair. It was even more disheveled than usual, yet, that chaos just suited him. His eyes drifted half-closed as I massaged his scalp.

“No,” he half-mumbled the words. “I’ve got too much to do. I’ll be fine with naps. Promised you I would find your sister. I’m going to find her, dammit.”

“AB,” I whispered the letters of his name, trying to sum up all the emotions swarming me. “You need real sleep. You can set up one of those decryptions and tell me what would be a problem. I can wake you up if it happens.” Was I offering to babysit his computer program? Absolutely.

A long sigh escaped him as he leaned into the contact. “I’ll be okay, Gracie.”

“Will you?” Worry crept through me. Because he seemed to grow wearier and wearier each day we’d been here. The attack at the house hadn’t helped nor the separation from Goblin. Since we reunited, the stress seemed ever present. “This isn’t what you signed up for, you know?”

That made him tip his head back, eyes narrowing as he really looked at me. The sleepiness vanished, chased off by something sharper, something awake. “Gracie… you are the reason I signed up for this. Exactly you.”

I swear the air snagged in my lungs like it forgot how to move. His fingers brushed my jaw, light and deliberate, like he was mapping something he didn’t want to forget.

“We promised each other honesty, remember?”

The reminder caught what little breath I had left and tangled it in my throat.

“We did,” I murmured, tipping my head into his touch as his hand slid higher.

One second, I was perched on the arm of the chair. The next, I was in his lap with my damp hair clinging to his skin, towel somehow still in place.

The sudden shift made me laugh under my breath. I glanced down, then met his eyes again. “Very smooth.”

He didn’t even blink. “I liked it.”

“Me too.” The words barely made it past my lips, more breath than sound, as he pressed his forehead to mine.

Then his mouth found mine—soft at first. A promise more than a kiss. A tease.

The second was bolder. Deeper. Heat curled low in my belly as he gathered me closer, arms tightening, his body folding around mine like he needed me under his skin.

I let him. Leaned in until there was no space left between us. My fingers dove into that riotous mass of wild hair, twisting tight, anchoring me to the moment.

His tongue swept against mine—slow, deliberate—igniting a fire that roared through my system and burned the weariness to ash.

Then came the scrape of his teeth over my lower lip, just enough to sting, just enough to make me gasp. The rasp of his stubble across my skin dragged me back to the edge even as the passion beneath my skin spiraled higher.

“I don’t know how to be soft with you,” he murmured, lips brushing mine, his breath a furnace of want.

Then he kissed me—deep, possessive, devastating.

My thoughts scattered like embers in a storm.

When I moved to shift, he caught me—hands locking around my waist—and lifted me without hesitation. Like he couldn’t stand the space, not even an inch. I found myself straddling him, chest to chest, heat to heat.

“You don’t have to be soft,” I assured him in between gasps of air “You just have to be here with me.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” he promised, kissing me again before finding the knot where I’d tucked the towel ends between my breasts. “Are you cold?” The heated question against my lips made me laugh.

“Actually,” I admitted. “Quite the opposite. I’m suddenly very warm.”

“Let’s see about helping you out with that.”

He tugged the towel wide, not that it did more than fall to my waist since I was currently straddling him. He settled his hands just above the towel.

“You’re so damn tiny.”

The way he exhaled the words had goosebumps racing over my skin. His grin grew a tad more wicked as he lifted me again. It let the towel slip further, so I tugged it out from between us and let it fall.

“So tiny,” he repeated, gaze stroking over me until even my nipples went taut just from the heat in them. “You don’t ever seem so tiny until I’m touching you.”

“I like it when you touch me.” Probably didn’t need saying but I wanted him to know regardless. “I like touching you even more.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” he said before he tugged me forward and locked his lips around one nipple. The man was determined to send me up in flames. The contact between his mouth and my skin sizzled. In my mind, it was a brand but instead of pain, he seared me with pleasure.

He took his time, laving one nipple then moving to the other. Each slow pass of his cheek dragged that deliciously rough stubble over my skin, the rasp sending tiny shocks through me—just enough sting to sharpen the haze, a bite to anchor the melt.

Cradling his head, I raked my nails through his hair, drawing out a low sound from deep in his chest. I guided that sinful mouth to keep exploring, feeding the slow burn between us as his hands slipped lower.

Every brush of his fingers sent jolts of heat racing under my skin, tingles sparking into something darker, needier—until I was burning everywhere, thighs trembling, breath catching, desperate for his hands to keep going.

When he cupped my ass, squeezing and pulling me in tighter, I vibrated with the moan that escaped.

With a wet pop, he pulled his head back to stare up at me.

Rousing from the cocoon of pleasure, I drank in the expressions chasing across his face like a fast-moving storm—anger, hunger, frustration, joy, a fierce, almost primal intensity.

Each one flared and faded until only one remained: the look he wore when everything in him was locked on me.

As if the world had narrowed to this moment, to us , and nothing beyond existed.

I had never felt so bare—stripped open, seen down to the marrow—yet somehow powerful, untouchable. Exposed and vulnerable, yes… but wrapped in the kind of protection that didn’t cage, only worshipped.

“AB,” I pushed his name past the choking emotion wrapped around me. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the faint scar left from where O’Rourke had torn the skin. Then he moved up to kiss a bruise I hadn’t noticed. There were a few of them over my arms and then down my torso.