Page 186 of The Wicked

He frowned, hesitating as his gaze flickered between Casmiro and me. “You’re sure? I know you’re not his biggest fan,” he said wearily.

“Yeah, about that.” I blew out a breath. “I was insensitive earlier—and like, just in the heat of the moment, and I wasn’t expecting to see you here. I had so many thoughts run throughmy mind… What could have happened and not? But I’m glad he didn’t die.”

Upper smiled at me. “I know, it was scary. We’ve done crazy jobs, but never one that had us running from stray bullets. These guys do that on a regular basis.”

“And now we’re working for them.” My tongue poked the inner side of my cheek.

He eyed me. “You know how to work a gun, so I’m not too worried.”

I opened my mouth to say something.

“It’s okay.” He chuckled. “Your secret is safe with me, and it’s all good if you don’t want to elaborate.”

I really did not want to elaborate, so I smiled in appreciation instead. “Thank you.”

“That’s all right; I kind of owe you one for keeping the secret about me leaving Street after we find the gold.”

“Upper—”

“I’ll go get that coffee,” he cut me off. “Want one?”

A small smile grazed my lips, and I dropped that topic. “Yeah, I could use a cup.”

He nodded before walking past me and out the door.

I watched the closed door for exactly five seconds before looking back at the man on the bed. The room was silent, save for the beeping of the heart monitor.

I walked over, taking the seat Upper had been in, as I soaked in Casmiro’s unconscious state. The rise and fall of his chest, his breath bouncing to the top of his oxygen mask as he breathed out, and dropping as he breathed in. The sound steady and in sync with the beep of the machine.

I sighed in exasperation, looking up and around the room.

No CCTV cameras.

“Are they stupid, or are they stupid?” I muttered, only to be met with silence.

Tentatively, I sat up and leaned in, shifting the chair closer to his bed, before lifting my hand and removing his oxygen mask.I leaned back and watched, tilting my head to the side as his lips parted slightly, his body unconsciously seeking oxygen assistance. It took mere seconds for the sound of the beeping sequence to falter a little.

Seconds for my mind to wander and bring to my mind’s eye different scenarios that could take place after cutting off his oxygen… His heart could fail without the assistance; his body could go into shock, and the machine would beep like crazy before it drew a flatline.

I shook my head free of those thoughts, leaned back in, and placed his mask back on, dropping my hands to my thighs and watching him. “Oh, Cassie, you are one stubborn motherfucker,” I mused. “I was hoping you’d die. It was three fucking bullets, damn it.” I rubbed the side of my head, feeling the faint headache grow more profound. “What a mess.”

I willed my brain to stop thinking about this and my heart to stop freezing every second with the fear of Elio walking in here and giving me that look of suspicion—

No, I am not thinking about this.

Not thinking about the man I’d spent all night thinking about. The fact that he wanted to break that rule, how he had looked at me before he said he wanted to break the rule, how he had dropped every suspicion, believing me on the spot.

While I was thankful for that, it still had me a bit wary. He was unpredictable; he saw right through and beyond me.

I wondered how he’d question the idiot they caught; I wondered what the idiot would say in the heat of Elio’s torture.

I knew Casmiro and Elio were close, but not this much, not so much that it kept him up all night, restless. He wanted to go back but had changed his mind for some reason. He didn’t tell me, didn’t speak much. When we arrived, he told me to stay here until he returned from wherever he, Angelo, and a few of his soldiers went to interrogate the idiot.

Angelo had only supplied me with a silent nod as a greeting.

Like Casmiro, I knew he didn’t trust or like me, and it botheredme because I hadn’t exactly done anything to warrant that… aside from messing around with their boss. Talking back at him or diverting his attention from what really mattered—that was it, and I didn’t do all of that because of someill intention.I just genuinely liked toying with him and getting him to loosen up and get frustrated.

Not my fault that he looked insanely hot when he frowned or yelled… It was fun messing with him… fun seeing him lose himself buried inside me… fun hearing him moan my name, so hot and breathy as he came inside me and I collapsed against him… God, he really was good with his cock and his hands.