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Authors: Bonnie Lamer
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to put the five stitches in because I won’t let him shave me bald. So, he has to work around my hair. When he’s finished, he takes the splint from Zane and wraps my arm tightly enough to keep the bones in place without cutting off circulation. When he’s done, he leaves the room without even a ‘good night’ being said.
“Maybe we can finally get some sleep now,” Zane says, taking his t-shirt off and tossing it on the chair. He still has scars from the devil torturing him, but they’re fading. His jeans are the next to go and I can’t help admiring how beautiful his body is. “You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to take your clothes off next,” he teases.
A pleasant shiver runs down my spine at the thought. “Okay.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think you’re in any condition for sex.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide what condition I’m in?”
Pulling the covers back, he climbs into bed. I’m already under the sheets but I’m still in my sports bra and shorts. The idea of trying to pull the tight bra off is terrifying. I’m either going to wear it until my arm heals or I’m going to eventually cut it off.
Leaning over, Zane puts his hand on my cheek and he kisses me, a long, sultry kiss that has me wondering where the scissors are. My hopes are dashed though. “I won’t make love to you when I know it’ll hurt you,” he says against my lips.
“It’ll be a good pain,” I try.
His response is to kiss me again and then pull back, dropping his head onto his pillow. “As much as I would like to believe you, I know you’re lying.” Seeing the disappointment on my face, he says, “Come here.”
He holds his arm out and he guides me close so I can lay my head on his chest. He’s careful not to touch my bad arm. Kissing the top of my head, he says, “Good night, Skye.”
“Good night.”
Chapter 7
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when the feel of cold, hard metal against my forehead wakes me with a start. A harsh voice whispers in my ear. “You are going to get out of bed without waking my grandson. If he wakes up, I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.”
D eep down I never truly thought Mrs. Gregori would shoot me. Apparently, I’m a fool. Slowly, I slide out of Zane’s grasp. He’s sound asleep and I’m able to slip under his arm without him waking. Once I’m out of the bed, I move quietly to the door. Mrs. Gregori is right behind me, the tip of her gun touching the small of my back. The light from the hall makes me squint, but I can make out Roman’s form waiting for us near the stairs. I’m not the only one facing death by bullet.
Once we are abreast of Roman, Mrs. Gregori motions with her gun that we should move to the stairs. Is she afraid the elevator will make too much noise? My ankle and the rest of my injuries don’t dare complain. The adrenaline in my system is too high to feel pain.
Mrs. Gregori doesn’t speak again until we’re in the foyer. “There’s two thousand dollars in the bag by the door along with the keys to Brielle’s jeep.” Is Brielle in on this? Was she lying about not doing anything to hurt Zane?
My mind is put to rest when Mrs. Gregori says, “She won’t miss the jeep. There’s a spare in the garage.”
So, Brielle isn’t in on this. “Where are we supposed to go?”
The old woman shrugs. “Once you reach the end of the driveway, you are no longer our responsibility. I suggest you keep a low profile.”
I’m stunned into silence for a moment. Finally, the pragmatic side of my brain kicks in. “I need clothes. I can’t flee in a sports bra and shorts.”
“There’ s a change of clothes in the bag.” She’s thought of everything.
Shrugging out of his jacket, Roman hands it to me. “Here, put this on for now.” He helps me put my good arm in one of the sleeves and
“Maybe we can finally get some sleep now,” Zane says, taking his t-shirt off and tossing it on the chair. He still has scars from the devil torturing him, but they’re fading. His jeans are the next to go and I can’t help admiring how beautiful his body is. “You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to take your clothes off next,” he teases.
A pleasant shiver runs down my spine at the thought. “Okay.”
He chuckles. “I don’t think you’re in any condition for sex.”
“Shouldn’t I be the one to decide what condition I’m in?”
Pulling the covers back, he climbs into bed. I’m already under the sheets but I’m still in my sports bra and shorts. The idea of trying to pull the tight bra off is terrifying. I’m either going to wear it until my arm heals or I’m going to eventually cut it off.
Leaning over, Zane puts his hand on my cheek and he kisses me, a long, sultry kiss that has me wondering where the scissors are. My hopes are dashed though. “I won’t make love to you when I know it’ll hurt you,” he says against my lips.
“It’ll be a good pain,” I try.
His response is to kiss me again and then pull back, dropping his head onto his pillow. “As much as I would like to believe you, I know you’re lying.” Seeing the disappointment on my face, he says, “Come here.”
He holds his arm out and he guides me close so I can lay my head on his chest. He’s careful not to touch my bad arm. Kissing the top of my head, he says, “Good night, Skye.”
“Good night.”
Chapter 7
I don’t know how long I’ve been asleep when the feel of cold, hard metal against my forehead wakes me with a start. A harsh voice whispers in my ear. “You are going to get out of bed without waking my grandson. If he wakes up, I won’t hesitate to blow your brains out.”
D eep down I never truly thought Mrs. Gregori would shoot me. Apparently, I’m a fool. Slowly, I slide out of Zane’s grasp. He’s sound asleep and I’m able to slip under his arm without him waking. Once I’m out of the bed, I move quietly to the door. Mrs. Gregori is right behind me, the tip of her gun touching the small of my back. The light from the hall makes me squint, but I can make out Roman’s form waiting for us near the stairs. I’m not the only one facing death by bullet.
Once we are abreast of Roman, Mrs. Gregori motions with her gun that we should move to the stairs. Is she afraid the elevator will make too much noise? My ankle and the rest of my injuries don’t dare complain. The adrenaline in my system is too high to feel pain.
Mrs. Gregori doesn’t speak again until we’re in the foyer. “There’s two thousand dollars in the bag by the door along with the keys to Brielle’s jeep.” Is Brielle in on this? Was she lying about not doing anything to hurt Zane?
My mind is put to rest when Mrs. Gregori says, “She won’t miss the jeep. There’s a spare in the garage.”
So, Brielle isn’t in on this. “Where are we supposed to go?”
The old woman shrugs. “Once you reach the end of the driveway, you are no longer our responsibility. I suggest you keep a low profile.”
I’m stunned into silence for a moment. Finally, the pragmatic side of my brain kicks in. “I need clothes. I can’t flee in a sports bra and shorts.”
“There’ s a change of clothes in the bag.” She’s thought of everything.
Shrugging out of his jacket, Roman hands it to me. “Here, put this on for now.” He helps me put my good arm in one of the sleeves and
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