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Curling up in the corner of my seat, I stared at him, afraid if I blinked it would be the last thing I ever did.
He paid me no attention. His gaze was fixed forward, as rigid as an onyx statute, his hands resting in his lap.
“Are you going to kill me?” I whispered.
His head angled toward me slowly, but his glance was fleeting. A muscle in his cheek twitched, right beneath one furious green eye. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re going to kill me.”
Leander’s gaze shifted out the window. He was silent the rest of the ride. Only by watching the cords in his throat tighten every so often did I know he, himself, was still alive.
The city lights flashed by at warp speed. Even though I squeezed my eyes shut, I could still see it behind my eyelids. The light, then the dark. Light and dark. Lightanddark. Like another strobe, flashing away.
As soon as the car rocked to a stop, I threw the door open and launched myself onto the sidewalk, gasping for fresh air. A whiff of cotton candy sent spasms through my stomach and my hand flew to my mouth. I could only contain the vomit for two steps before I collapsed and threw up in the giant concrete planter.
Fucking Sergei.
As soon as I crawled out of this goddamn K-hole, I was going to kill him. Or at least send him a strongly worded email. No, no. A carrier pigeon. That was safer. Maybe not for the pigeon. But who gives a fuck about pigeons?
Until then, I just had to survive the night.
6
Bennett
Icouldn’t move. My body was paralyzed from the neck down. Fucking Christ. I’d been here before, in a Venetian hospital to be exact. The same weighted feeling. Being aware of my surroundings but unable to interact or communicate in any way. The doctors didn’t expect the sedation to wear off so fast, so I laid there, in utter terror, for an eternity until someone realized I was conscious.
Just remembering it made my heart rate skyrocket. My breathing came in short pants, exacerbating the dryness in my mouth. Squeezing my eyes shut, I screamed internally at my central nervous system.
My fingers responded, curling around something warm and kind of squishy. No, hard. So I wasn’t completely paralyzed.
Leander’s voice was in my ear, his breath warm against my neck. “How are you feeling?”
Glancing down at the same time he propped himself up, I saw our fingers were laced together. The fear dissipated in an instant, chased away by his mere presence. My body moved under its own command, hurling itself toward him while my arms wrapped around his neck.
“I thought I was dead. Or paralyzed.”
He stroked my hair, holding me tightly with the other arm. “You pretty much were.”
“What?” I jerked back, blinking.
A dark brow lifted. “You don’t remember last night?”
I shook my head.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, scooting backward so he was leaning against the headboard. “You were at Delirium.”
Well, shit. That was never a good start to any conversation. Sergei’s flagship club was the location of many,manyof my less than moral escapades — not to mention the illegal ones. From the look on Leander’s face, I was in for one of two things: a) getting yelled at or b) getting the silent treatment. Sometimes I didn’t know which was worse.
“What were you doing there?” Leander asked, both brows raising slightly. His tone was surprisingly calm, given the irritation in his eyes.
“I... don’t remember.” I watched him carefully, hoping for a clue. “What wereyoudoing there?”
“Looking for you.” As I tried piecing the night together in confounded silence, he continued. “You texted that you left the FBI’s office and were on your way home. And then you failed to return.”
I nodded, remembering that bit clearly. “Yes, I did. I was. Literally, walking out the door.”
“Do you remember what happened after that?” Leander asked softly, like an attorney trying to lead a witness without the rest of the court catching on.
