Page 82 of Severed By Vengeance

Evangelina pushed on my chest until the backs of my knees touched the wooden chair. I let my body fall and she positioned herself between my thighs. A wave of warmth coursed through me at having her so close. The sliver of exposed skin above the waistband of her jeans called to me, beckoning to be touched. I bit back the impulse. She’d been through too much tonight and needed comfort, not my advances. Her eyes glistened with emotion, but the mask she held remained firm.

“I’m fine.”

“Derek, you were shot.”

“Barely a graze.”

She rolled her eyes, dabbing a gauze pad with alcohol. “Stop being so damn stubborn, and let me help you. It’s the least I can do.”

Reaching out, I gently took her wrists in my hands. “You don’t owe me anything. Do you hear me? Not a damn thing.”

Evangelina shook her head. “That’s not true. You risked your life to help me.” Her brown eyes darkened. “And it was a very, very stupid thing to do. Why would you put yourself in harm’s way like that? You could have been killed!”

“What did you expect me to do?” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “Just sit by and wait?”

“Yeah, exactly that. You’re not a cop, Derek. And you’re not Bruce Wayne or immortal. You’re a civilian. And this,” she said, pointing at my shoulder, “could have been much worse.”

She was wholly unaware of the lengths I was willing to go to, the people I’d kill without so much as a second thought if it meant she was safe. The day I’d set eyes on Evangelina, something inside me shifted out of place. Out of balance. The fabric of my very existence had been unraveled. The code I lived by. All of it, in shambles. She’d turned my world upside down and inside out.

Eva agreed to stay with me, even if her conditions meant it was only for a few days. I knew she had questions. Explaining away what Helena, Kai, and I had done would be virtually impossible. But I was up for the task. Lying to her felt wrong now, but my options were slim. Losing her wasn’t one of them.

“But I’m fine.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, dripping more alcohol onto the pad.

“That looks personal.”

She managed a small laugh. “You just hold still. My dad taught me a few things.”

As she pulled at my shirt’s collar, the fabric’s stretch wouldn’t give enough. I yanked it over my head, careful not to tear at the sensitive skin.

“Is that better?”

She wet her lips and stepped back, eyes roving my upper body. A smile crept across my face at her appraisal, and I leaned back in my chair. “Thought this would give you better access.”

“It does,” she said in a breathy tone. “There’s just so much—ink.” With her free hand, she ran her fingers down my chest. “Every inch of you. What do they all mean?”

I instinctively closed my eyes at her touch, and my cock jumped against the seam of my pants.

“Angel.” I caught her hands. “Put the damn pad on my shoulder.”

Pain was necessary. I needed to feel the burn of the alcohol. An even trade for the flames caressing my skin with each brush of her fingertips. Everywhere she touched was on fire. I gripped the edges of the chair, willing myself not to act on impulse as I fought the urge to throw her back on top of the table. Goddamn. This woman.

Evangelina hesitated, lip pulled between her teeth, before she pressed the cool gauze to my wound. I clenched my jaw, and a loud groan resonated in my throat.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just a little burn. Nothing I haven’t felt before.”

Her focus shifted from me to beyond my shoulder. She was quiet. Pensive. Eyes squinting ever so slightly.

“How do you know Helena? How are you both so… skilled?” Full attention back on me, her gaze was penetrating, demanding answers. “Derek, she had a tactical belt underneath her scrubs. Two Glocks—And you…” She leaned back against the table, as if gauging my reaction. “You went in guns blazing into a shootout with Russian mobsters.” Palming her temple, she shook her head and pushed off the table, pacing back and forth. “I can’t even believe I’m saying that out loud. Who are you?Whatare you?”

She was too close, teetering on the precipice of a truth that would rip her from me.

“Eva, you know who I am. I own Sloane’s. I’m a tactical instructor. It’s what I do. And Helena is a long-time client of Kai’s.”

“Your adopted brother.”