by Karen Rose
“I’ll be fine, Irina. Honestly.”
“All right.” She pulled the blanket up to his chin, patting his face softly. “I’m glad you’re here, Gideon.”
“Me too.” He smiled up at her when she plumped his pillows. “You used to do this when I was a kid. When I was sick. I pretended I was too old for you to fuss over me, but I really loved it.”
She perched on the side of the bed. “I knew you really wanted me to. But you were fourteen and that’s such a rough age. And you were in rough shape then.” She searched his face. “I worried so much about you back then, Gideon. I still do.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her. “I just got my wing clipped a little. I’ll be healed in no time.”
Irina shook her head. “Not that. I know you’ll heal. You and Rafe got so many hurts and you always healed. On the outside. I worry about your inside.” She tapped his chest. “Your heart.”
“It’s fine, too,” he said, deliberately misunderstanding. “It keeps on beating.”
She gave him a quelling look. “Gideon. I’m being serious. We need to talk.”
“I’m being serious, too. I’m okay, Irina. Really.” He frowned as a concern struck him from left field. “Wait. We need to talk about what?” He narrowed his eyes. “Are you upset that I’m seeing Daisy?” Because that would not be okay.
She flinched, her expression shocked. “No. Of course not. I was the one trying to set you up, remember? For months.”
“Oh,” he said sheepishly. “Right. Sorry.”
“You should be. Durashka.” She shook her head, her exasperation with him clear. “Silly boy. I think she’ll be good for you. Loosen you up a little bit. You’ll be good for her, too. When you took up for her, there in her apartment? She looked at you like you’d hung the moon. And when you told us about Eden she was like a soldier, ready to defend you if we even frowned at you. I only ask that you take it slow. Strong relationships take time.”
“Then why are you worried about me? Why do we ‘need to talk’?”
“Why am I worried about you? Other than the fact that you just told us you were raised in a cult and were nearly murdered by its members?”
“Well, yeah,” he mumbled. “That’s over and done.”
“I don’t think that’s altogether true, but we can tackle that later.” Irina hesitated, then sighed. “Your sister didn’t come.”
It was his turn to flinch. Because even though he hadn’t expected Mercy to come, he’d wished she would. “No. She didn’t. But it’s f—”
“I swear, Gideon Reynolds, if you say ‘fine,’ I’ll . . .” She sputtered. “I don’t know what, but you won’t like it. You love her. I could see that her rejection hurts you.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it again, uncomfortable that he’d let that show. “Yeah,” he whispered. “It does hurt.”
“I’m so sorry, dorogoy moy.”
Sweetheart. He almost smiled, despite the hurt. “I am, too. Partly because I’d love to have a sister. I mean, Sasha and Meg and Zoya are like sisters to me, but Mercy is my sister. I . . . miss her.”
“Of course you do. How could you not?”
And that might be the very heart of it, he thought, turning the notion around in his mind while Irina waited patiently. “That’s the thing,” he finally said quietly. “I miss her, but she doesn’t miss me. She’s cut me out of her life and doesn’t look back. I understand it. I understand that just seeing me brings back a host of bad memories, but . . .”
“But what?”
He sighed. “That’s the bigger part. If she’d turned her back on me for another family, yeah, it would hurt, but she’d be happy. But she didn’t find another family. She’s so alone.” He took the hand she had resting on his heart and squeezed it. “I’m not. I’ve got you guys. You’ve always had my back. If she came here, you’d love her, too. She’d have a family, too.”
Irina’s eyes grew bright and she dabbed at them daintily. “We would love her. I’m glad you know we love you, Gideon.”
He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I’ve always known that. You and Karl have been my parents since the day Rafe brought me here. You’ve been the mother that my own mother wasn’t allowed to be.”
Irina tried dabbing again, but gave up and blinked the tears from her eyes, wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Your mother got you out of that awful place. I’m grateful to her for that. She got your sister out, too. Physically.”
“Yeah.” Because Mercy was still so damaged, all these years later. Still in a prison, of sorts. “I’ll keep working on her.” Needing to change the tone, he smiled at her slyly. “She might be bribed with honey cake.”
Irina’s chuckle was watery. “If you ever want me to bake one for you, you need only to ask, sinochka.” She leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Rest. We’ll be here for you in the morning.”
“Thank you,” he said gruffly. “For everything.”
She blew him a kiss, turned off the light, and closed the door, leaving him all alone.
Alone, staring at the ceiling, and wondering where Daisy was. It had only been three nights, but he’d become accustomed to her sleeping in his arms.
He listened. The TV was on downstairs. Sounded like Monday Night Football, to which Karl was addicted. Hopefully that would keep Frederick busy, too, because Gideon planned to find Daisy and ask her to stay with him. Just until he went to sleep.
He’d pulled the blanket away and swung his legs over the side of the bed when his door slowly opened. Daisy slipped in and shut the door quietly, locked it, then listened, presumably, for anyone who might have seen her.
Like her father. Who’d taught her to shoot and fight like a soldier. It kept occurring to Gideon that Daisy’s father should probably scare him more than he did. Although Frederick hadn’t seemed too upset that Daisy had been asleep on his hospital bed.
A real bed was probably different.
She turned around and let out a startled eep when she saw him, clapping her hand over her mouth after the fact. “You’re awake.”
“So it would seem,” he said dryly. “I think you just erased any benefit of your super secret stealth.”
She grinned as she crossed the room. “They’re screaming at the TV downstairs. I doubt they heard one little eep. And if they did . . .” She shrugged and sat on the bed. “Irina was crying when she left your room. But smiling, too. What happened?”
“I told her that she and Karl are my family.”
Daisy’s smile was soft. “That’d do it.” She stroked his cheek with the backs of her fingers. “I won’t stay long. I just wanted to check on you. It can’t have been easy, telling them about Eden.”
“It wasn’t so bad,” he said, surprised that it was true. “I think every time I tell it, it gets easier. The hard part was that it upset them.” He flattened her palm against his cheek and nuzzled into it. “Can you stay for a little while?”
“I was hoping you’d want me to.” Setting her Brutus bag on the floor next to the bed, she placed the dog on top of it, told her “Shazam,” then cuddled up to Gideon’s side. “Kind of missing the hospital bed’s rails,” she chuckled. “This is a tiny bed. I might just fall off.”
Mindful of his sling, he shifted so that his back was to the wall and he pulled her into him. Not having to worry about the IV needle made holding her so much easier. On the other hand, holding her closer made it harder to hide the fact that he was getting very hard, very fast. “Better?”
“Yeah. Much. Does your arm hurt?”
“Some,” he admitted.
“In other words, it’s hurting like a bitch, but you refuse to take any more pain meds.”
“Pretty much. I took some over-the-counter painkillers Irina brought me.”
“Gideon,” she said on a sigh.
“Daisy,” he mimicked, t
hen kissed the top of her head. “I was coming to find you. I can’t sleep without you.”
She lightly stroked down his chest. “I like that.”
“Thought you might,” he muttered.
Her hand continued its downward journey, stroking the crease of his thigh and his groin. He sucked in a breath, his cock starting to throb. Her fingers were so close, and not nearly close enough.
She hummed low in her throat and he held his breath, letting it out on a groan when her fingers finally lightly brushed up his length.
“I like this, too,” she whispered.
He choked out a laugh, which morphed into another groan when her fingers gripped him through his sweats. “Daisy. Please.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, sliding her free hand under his head and leaning in to brush her lips over his. “What do you want, Gideon?” she asked, her husky voice and her clever fingers sending shivers all over his body.
Cursing the sling that immobilized his right arm, he arched his hips, needing more friction. “Everything.” The word came out sounding desperate. Because suddenly he was desperate. He gripped a fistful of her hair, careful not to hurt her but needing something to hold on to. “Kiss me, Daisy Dawson.”
And she did. Slowly and thoroughly she kissed him, until he thought the top of his head would fly off. It wasn’t a rough kiss, or raw. But it wasn’t gentle, either. When she finally lifted her head, they were both panting and his hips were rolling, his dick craving her touch.
Holding his gaze, she tugged on the drawstring of his sweatpants and slid her hand under the waistband. His body, arched and needy, collapsed back on the bed with a growl.
“Please,” he whispered.
She gripped him hard and kissed him, this time with no gentleness. It was dirty and raw and he loved it.
Too soon she pulled back, her lips swollen and red and gorgeous. “No noise,” she panted, then slid down his body, kissing his chest, his abs, then disappearing under the blanket. He clenched his eyes closed, waiting for it . . . waiting . . .
Her mouth closed over him, hot and wet and amazing. “Oh God,” he moaned. She was alternating a slow, slick glide down with a tight suction on the way back up. It was pleasure, so intense that his brains were . . . gone. “Daisy.”
The heat and suction abruptly stopped. Her head popped out from under the blanket. “I said, no noise. Got it?”
He nodded, probably too eagerly because she grinned at him before disappearing under the blanket again. And . . . He exhaled in relief when she took him back in her mouth. Gently he threaded his fingers through her hair, holding on as she drove him completely insane.
His orgasm Saturday night had been like a bomb blast, hitting with no warning. This one built slowly, starting at the base of his spine, electricity radiating outward until every square inch of his skin was sensitized and aching.
“Daisy,” he rasped. He let go of her hair to pull the blanket away. “Almost there.”
She looked up at him through her lashes, winked once—then took him deeper.
“Fuck,” he groaned, unable to keep it quiet. What had been a slow build suddenly detonated, his body bowing up as he came, lifting off the bed of its own accord as his abs crunched tight. And it kept going and going.
Until finally he fell back, thoroughly and utterly drained. He stared up at the ceiling, blinking as his brain came back online. Then he laughed.
She crawled up the bed, lying on her side with her elbow propped by his ear. She smiled down at him. Her swollen lips were red and wet and . . . so damn sexy.
She traced his goatee with one finger. “Was that an I’m-so-happy laugh? Just letting you know that the right answer is ‘yes.’”
He caught her finger between his lips and sucked it into his mouth for a moment before letting her go. “Well, duh. Yes. But it was also because I was thinking I felt drained. And then the middle schooler that still lurks in my mind said, heh-heh, I was drained.”
She chuckled. “You should let the middle schooler out to play more often. He’s funny.”
He closed his eyes. “I think you shorted out some major fuses.”
“Good.” She sounded amused and . . . content.
He opened his eyes to study her face. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Her eyes gleamed. “That was truly remarkable, Gideon.”
“Yeah. It was. I didn’t expect it.” He hesitated. “I’m clean. You should have asked.”
“You were just in the hospital. I’m sure they tested you six ways to Tuesday, especially since I was covered in your blood.”
“Still. You shouldn’t be so—” He cut himself off when her brow winged up, a sure sign of annoyance.
“Slutty?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he blurted out. “I was going to say trusting. Some men will lie to you.”
“I’m not with ‘some men,’” she said, way too calmly. “I’m with you.”
He’d made her angry and he wanted to kick his own ass. “I never once thought anything negative. I’m sorry. I’m not . . . I’m a little socially awkward sometimes.”
Her frown softened. “Yes, you are. I don’t trust many people, Gideon, but I won’t go through life suspecting everyone. My father did that and . . . I mean I love him, but . . .” She sighed. “It hurt our family.”
He rested his good arm over his eyes. “I’m sorry, Daisy. I just took the most amazing gift and smashed it.”
“Nah. You just scuffed it a little. It can be buffed out.”
He peeked at her from under his arm. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She ran her fingers over his phoenix tattoo. “I’m not a blushing virgin, Gideon. I enjoyed sex before I met you.”
He sucked in a breath at her light touch, weighing his words. “I’m glad.”
Again the eyebrow lifted, but this time it was curious rather than angry. “Really?”
“Yes. You were able to connect with people in a way that you needed before I was here.”
She smiled. “And now that you’re here?”
He met her eyes, hoping she didn’t bolt. “I don’t want to share you.”
“I’m good with that. Same goes. We’re exclusive until we decide otherwise. Okay?”
“Absolutely okay.” He traced the V of her collar, dipping his finger under her sweater until he traced the lace of her bra. “Irina thinks we’re moving too fast.”
Daisy made a face. “I know. She told me the same thing. But then Karl reminded her that he told her that she’d marry him after their first date. She didn’t believe him then.” She laughed. “She said she’s still not sure it’s going to work out.”
Gideon grinned. “I really love those guys.”
“Me too.” She kissed him softly and he could taste himself on her lips. And damn if he wasn’t getting hard again.
“What can I do for you?”
“Right now? Recover from a gunshot wound. I probably shouldn’t have done what I did, in hindsight. But I hope you’ll be able to sleep now.”
“Like a baby,” he predicted. “But you’ll stay?”
“Yes.” She got comfortable on his shoulder. “Did I mess up your arm?”
“What arm?” he asked and felt her smile.
“Go to sleep, Gideon.”
His eyes were already growing heavy. “Okay.”
GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 9:30 P.M.
It appeared that he was playing the waiting game yet again. He sat in his stolen minivan, down the street from the Sokolov home. Watching.
He wasn’t the only one. There was a black SUV in the driveway whose driver just got out to do a perimeter check. Carrying a rifle. With a scope.
Seemed like the Feds weren’t messing around.
You shouldn’t be here. It’s not worth it. If
he checks the license plate, you’re toast.
It was a good point. Especially since the minivan he’d stolen clearly did not belong in this neighborhood. He could have stolen a newer model, but they all had GPS. He was basically a blinking neon light saying SEARCH ME.
You have time. They don’t know who you are. You’ve left no physical evidence behind. Well, except for the skin scrapings. The car he’d left up in Macdoel had been burned to a crisp. Even if they had found any blood, the heat would have rendered it useless.
But . . .
But what? But you didn’t get Daisy Dawson yet? You will. Just be patient. Wait for her to let her guard down. She can’t hide like this forever. You know where she lives.
And they did not know where he lived. He definitely had the upper hand here.
Sitting here in a stolen minivan with GI Joe doing laps around the Sokolovs’ house was a risk he did not need to take. Especially with all the lights in the house going off, one by one. The family was settling down to sleep.
He stripped the glove off his right hand and the mitten off his left, then held one ignition wire between the working fingers of his injured hand. Using his less dexterous right hand, he clumsily touched the two wires together and the van roared to life. He pulled the glove and mitten back on.
He wasn’t going to leave any forensic evidence behind in this vehicle, just as he’d left nothing of his own in the truck or the Chico minivan yesterday. Damn forensics.
He turned the van around and headed back to the city. He’d park it somewhere close to the supermarket from where he’d stolen it and leave a few empty beer bottles on the floor. The cops would assume it had been stolen by teenagers.
He could go home, have a cup of cocoa, and listen to his mother’s record collection. And then he could have another go at Zandra. He was kind of hoping she’d hold out a little longer. She was proving to be a very satisfying guest.
SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 9:55 P.M.
The ringing of a phone woke Daisy from a sound sleep. Blinking, she rolled over to grab it and—
“Shit.” She hit the floor hard. “That hurt.”
“Wha—?” Gideon sat straight up in the bed. The very small bed in Rafe’s old room.
