Page 80 of Wasted Grace

I turn back slowly, because now there’s a glint of mischief tickling my tongue. That was bait. And I’mfucking biting.

I pout. “Aww.”

His eyes shoot open in pure betrayal. “Don’t say it.”

I lean in, grinning. “So Rohi doesn’t like you anymore?”

He groans, dragging his good hand down his face. Then he suddenly smiles at me. “You’re such a bitch.”

He says it like he’s calling mebeautiful.

I arch a brow. “Why do you keep calling me a bitch?”

“Because, baby, youareone,” he says earnestly. “Whinybitch.Angrybitch.Hotbitch.Badassbitch.”

I cough to cover my laugh. It fails miserably. “Are you good on that medication still? Wanna sleep? Please?”

He nods solemnly. “Concernedbitch,” he adds, eyes drooping.

And I swear, I have never wanted to punch someone and kiss them at the same time more than I do right now.

A few seconds later he finally—finally—dozes off.

TWENTY

Advik

I blink awake with a strange heaviness pressing into my chest. Not pain—not initially. Butpanic. The leftover kind. Like I’ve just lived through a nightmare and only now remembered how to breathe.

The first thing I see is light. White, sterile light that pierces straight into my skull. My eyes instinctively want to shut again.

The next thing Ifeelis a tug in my hair.

Gentle.Familiar.

I tilt my head slightly, wincing at the stiffness in my neck. I’m in a hospital bed, for sure. Monitors beeping somewhere close. My skin smells like antiseptic and blood. But what arrests my attention is the beautiful, scarred woman with her cheek pressed to my hand—her fingers threaded through my hair.

Even asleep, mouth parted, dried drool darkening the edge of my hand—fuck, she’s still stunning.

But then it hits me.

Why I’m here. Why there’s pain. Why there’sher.

I remember the red dot. How it jittered across her body. The pure fuckingterror. The only thought in my head being:push her out of the way.

Then... nothing.

Did I fall? Did I hit my head?

My eyes dart to the bandage on my shoulder.

Right. Theshot. I’m fine, maybe. Judging by how I can still move. But I remember the pain. I remember her eyes when I dropped. She’s going to fucking kill me for this.

I sigh.

Another jolt of panic sizzles through my ribs at the thought of my brother being here. He’s my emergency contact.

I strain my neck—slowly—scanning the room.