Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Just watching you.”
“I am okay. Really.”
He does not seem convinced. And his arm is around my back, holding my elbow like I need steadying or something. Which I don’t think I do, but whatever. When I tip my head back to see the stars, however, the world turns in dizzy circles. Maybe he’s right about me needing a certain amount of monitoring. But like only a little.
As soon as we get home, I head for the bathroom and brush my teeth. No amount of mints made them feel clean after puking.
“Darling, are you going to tell me how you managed to take a bullet to the head?” he asks, watching me from the doorway.
“You haven’t called me darling before. There’s a testy edge to the endearment I don’t trust.”
“Is there?”
“You love me,” I say, pointing my finger at him. “Say it, Dean. I think you need the reminder.”
“I remember just fine. How did you get shot?”
“It only grazed me. Just like oh so vaguely winged me as it went on its way, you know?”
He gives me a look and waits not so patiently.
“Right. How it happened.” I pour a cup of drinking water to rinse my mouth and toothbrush. “We went to the farms and that was all good. That’s where the baby animals were. I am going to need your help building, um, chicken and goat houses too, or whatever they’re called, by the way. Wouldn’t it be great to have fresh eggs and milk? And then Naomi and I decided to do some shopping in a cool small town to the north. I found days-of-the-week underwear, isn’t that fantastic?”
“Keep going,” he says.
“The town was meant to be outside of where Porter usually sends his people.” I hand him the leather jacket and toe off my socks and boots. And I almost tip over at one point, making him step forward to steady me. Oops. Next go the crusty tee and jeans. Dried bloodstains ahoy. The top can go into the compost or something. No way am I getting those marks out. My bra and underwear stay on for now. “But there were some there.”
“Did they see you?”
“No.”
“You couldn’t have stayed safe out of sight?” he asks in a growl.
There are a couple of buckets of water in the bathroom for emergencies such as these. I grab a cloth and a bar of soap and start in on the mess that is me. However, he takes the cloth from me and carefully gets to work.
“Damn that water’s cold. You know what would have happened to those women,” I say. “What they would have done to them.”
His mouth opens to argue, but no.
“They had their back to us,” I say. “We were in a good position.”
“Astrid—”
“Those assholes threatened a baby, Dean. They actually inferred that Porter might not let the mother keep her child.”
He squeezes his eyelids shut tight for a moment. Then he starts carefully washing the dried blood from my face and neck. My shoulder, arm, and chest. Neither of us talks for a while. High as a kite as I am, I still know he needs time to process.
The water in the first bucket is soon the color of rust. With help, I wash my hair leaning over the edge of the bathtub, holding a towel to the bandage keeps it dry. Then I’m wrapped in a large plush towel. Dean sits on the bed, and I sit at his feet as he carefully brushes my hair.
“I don’t feel as bad as I thought I would after killing someone,” I say, resting my elbow on his denim-clad knee. “This worries me.”
“Like you said, he threatened the life of a child. That’s a whole new level of asshole.”
“Yeah. I puked on the sidewalk. But I don’t know if that was more from the shock of getting shot or what.”
He just grunts. Like I know what the noise means. Each section of my hair is carefully lifted and worked over with the brush in his hand. The man would have made a hell of a maid.
“There’s always this impossible weight when a character kills for the first time in books and movies. Like a burden that they assume. The cost of dealing in life and death,” I say. “But I’m not feeling it. I get that deciding to kill someone is big. It doesn’t seem like anyone should have the power of life and death. But there’s no doubt in me that I made the right choice today. Does that make me a bad person or a decisive one or what?”
“Depends.” He pauses to crack his neck. “Got the urge to go out and start killing people indiscriminately?”
“No.”
“Would you kill someone for annoying you or something stupid?”
“I know I’ve threatened you a time or two…”
His chuckle hits me straight between the hips.