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And while his eyelids lie heavily on his gray eyes, hers aren’t. As if she feels me staring, she blinks. Stirs awake. Her deep browns focus, then narrow at me. Mesmerizing me. Stealing my sanity right from under me.
“Killian?” Amara murmurs, her voice thick with sleep. “Everything okay?”
Her whispered question reminds me of my phone.
No, I don’t think everything’s okay. Phone calls and texts from Voltage this late are reserved for emergencies. There are work emails which I’m used to. Which I’m happy for at times because of my strange sleeping habits.
Phone calls and messages are different.
Our staff is allowed to call me anytime. Our members aren’t.
The one who called me in the middle of the night to complain about room service lost his two front teeth. The cry-baby money launderer from room 3112 and his teeth became an urban legend. No one’s done it since.
No one’s doing it now. Something’s wrong with the hotel.
“Everything’s fine,” I lie.
She hums when I kiss her forehead. Presses her palm to my cheek when my lips linger on her warm skin a moment longer.
The only other woman I kissed this way was Carter’s mom. Not out of the kind of love I have for Carter and Amara.
It was her pain that burned me. A woman holding a newborn on a street corner. One would have to be a monster to ignore her. To not want to give her a sense of normalcy.
Compassion. That was why I kissed Joelle’s forehead. It meant nothing. Kissing Amara’s and Carter’s means everything.
“Your beard tickles.” She giggles but doesn’t pull back.
I don’t either. Even in her sleepy state, even hushed, Amara’s giggles sound a touch psychotic. Her adorable kind of weirdness makes life less complicated. Less dark. The sun shines through every now and again around her.
Love seeps through the clouds and washes over Carter and me.
“Are you saying you don’t like it?”
“No.” Her whisper is harsh, her fingernails biting into my cheek so I won’t move an inch. “Mine.”
Another message from my phone cuts through my way-too-emotional thoughts.
“You lied.” Amara lets go of me, her attention drifting behind my back to the nightstand. “There is something.”
“No.” Technically, I’m not lying.
Wherever she’s concerned, everything’s okay. Always will be. Carter and I will make sure of that.
“Go back to sleep, beautiful girl.”
After a few minutes of stroking her hair, she falls back asleep. I slip out of the bed and grab my phone.
Five missed calls from Luna that I didn’t hear. Four messages. A curse slips past my lips. By the time I fell asleep, I was exhausted. I’ve been knocked out for two hours and now this mess.
I don’t even know what it is, but I know it’s a fucking mess.
My pulse speeds up as I press my thumb to the screen to unlock the phone and read.
Luna: Boss, you up? It’s important. As in code fucking red.
Luna: The night shift called up to my room. There’s been a security breach. Christopher shot one of our men, Michael. He’s inside Voltage.
Luna: Killian, please, he’s threatening them. Got his gun aimed at one of them. Saying he won’t leave without talking to you. I’m physically blocking Julien from going down there and confronting him. He can’t face this asshole by himself. Please pick up.
