Black Hat Hacker (Chicago Syndicate Book 6)

Home > Other > Black Hat Hacker (Chicago Syndicate Book 6) > Page 28
Black Hat Hacker (Chicago Syndicate Book 6) Page 28

by Soraya Naomi


  Adriano informs him, “Take as long as you need to fully recuperate before you return to work. We don’t have any urgent business. If I do need you, I’ll call you.” Then he tells me, “You also need to take it easy, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “And, Mary, I’ll talk to Marc and make sure you can come and go whenever you want,” Adriano concludes. “One guard will stay here just as a precaution, Henry.”

  Henry coughs before insisting, “If Mary goes out, I want a guard with her too.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary...” My words trail off as he scowls at me, lifting a brow, warning me not to argue with him, so I hold up my hands in surrender. If it calms him, I’ll walk around with a guard for a while.

  “I’ll send David,” Carmine says to Henry. “He’s fine, by the way. Keano drugged him, but he was found in the park by a civilian and taken to the emergency room. Marc wasn’t at work, so David used a different name. He came back as soon as he was released.”

  Henry nods his approval before they leave the room, yet he still appears exhausted, so I urge him, “Sleep some more. I’m staying.”

  In response, he clutches my hand even tighter, letting his eyelids flutter closed while I watch over him.

  ***

  After spending two days at Northwestern, I need clean clothes, so when Henry’s asleep on Wednesday afternoon, I go back to the Astoria to shower and put on jeans and a pea green sweater. Since I’m still unpacking everything in my bedroom, it takes a little extra time. My clothes and makeup are strewn around the built-in closet, and some of the shelves are too high for me, so I’ll need a stepladder to reach them.

  But once I’m ready, I get my laptop from the coffee table and head back to the hospital with my guard, David.

  When I return after two hours, voices from Henry’s room have me hurrying inside to see the nurse finishing up changing his bandage while Marc explains, “No infections and your wound is healing nicely. This is good. We could try getting you out of bed tomorrow if you’d like?”

  “Okay,” Henry answers right before he spots me and clenches his jaw for a second, so I frown. “Where were you?”

  “I just went home to change.” I close the distance between us with the laptop in the crook of my arm as Marc withdraws from the room. “Did something happen?”

  “No,” he replies as he pushes the button to incline his bed and looks up, so I kiss him on the mouth. “I just didn’t like waking up and finding you were gone.”

  That statement makes me feel treasured, but I’ll need to work on his constant worry and uber-protectiveness.

  “And I was fucking bored without you.” He gives me that half-smile I’ve adored for so long.

  “I expected that, hence, why I brought entertainment.” I hold up the laptop before placing it on the mattress.

  Arcing a brow, he glances at my breasts suggestively. “I’m not sure I’m up for that.”

  “No. Why would I mean sex and then hold up a laptop?” I retort as he smirks wolfishly.

  “I thought maybe you were surprising me with porn.”

  Playfully, I swat his shoulders, causing him to groan. “Sorry, but no, our entertainment isn’t porn. And by the way, can you...?” I wave at his groin.

  “...get hard?” he fills in, showing his teeth. “Yes.”

  Laughing, I suggest, “But let’s not arouse you just yet. You have to take it easy.”

  He grunts, seemingly not pleased about that fact.

  “Anyway, we’re going to watch Narcos.” Flipping open the laptop screen, I sign in to Netflix as his astonished gaze lands on me.

  “Good idea, baby.”

  I tap my finger against my temple. “I’m not just a pretty face.”

  In reaction, Henry smiles in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before, one that shines with a ray of happiness, causing me to cling to the belief that he’s just as grateful for this second chance as I am.

  After pressing play, I climb into his bed carefully and set the laptop on my thighs, angling the screen up to give us a good view as Henry entwines our hands like he always does.

  In comfortable silence, we watch the show as the hours pass much more quickly, and I don’t leave him until he’s asleep that night.

  Then I go home and return at seven a.m. That’s my new routine, and there’s no place on earth I’d rather be than at Northwestern with Henry.

  ***

  By Saturday, Henry’s moving around the hospital in a wheelchair and getting physical therapy throughout the day to keep his muscles strong. According to Marc, he’s strengthening rapidly.

  On Saturday night, the guard peers inside the room, holding up a brown bag. “Your order, Mary.”

  “Thanks.” I take it from him and stroll back to the bed. “Sushi.”

  “Did you—”

  “I got you lots of fish,” I interrupt, setting the bag on the nightstand as the corner of his lip quirks up.

  My laptop is on the chair, and I pause the episode of Narcos we were watching as Henry lounges back, accepting the food as I feed him, finishing our meal within half an hour.

  We’re completely at ease, and he’s truly laid back as we sip our Japanese teas. In the past, we’ve always been preoccupied with the near future, but now we’re living for the present.

  “What’s that smile?” Henry asks, his silver-grey gaze on me behind his black rimmed glasses as he hands me his cup, which I add to the rest of the empty containers to throw into the trash can in the corner of the room.

  “I’m happy.”

  In a swift move, he flings his glasses onto the nightstand, snatching my wrist, and I almost stumble against him as I plop onto the edge of the bed.

  “Oh, careful!” I warn.

  “I’m not made of porcelain.” He jerks me close to nip my birthmark, whispering, “I need to taste you.”

  My eyes widen in intrigue and yearning.

  “Someone could come in,” I object, yet he peppers kisses down my throat.

  “The guard’s standing at the door. He won’t come in without knocking. But I suggest we hurry...”

  Since the blinds are closed, I submit, having no self-discipline to deny him after missing him for two weeks.

  “Take off your panties, Mary,” he growls, gliding his palm up my bare thigh and under my skirt until his fingers slip over the edge of my panties, lingering just enough to tease me, making me whimper.

  Eagerly, I stand up and slide them down my thighs without exposing myself, and he sends me a wicked grin before I press my lips to his. Getting on the bed, I lift one knee over Henry so that I’m kneeled over his face as he scoots down on the mattress and rakes his nails over my ass, his tongue tracing my folds.

  “Sit on my face, baby,” he orders, gripping my behind as I grab the headboard of the bed, and he skims his hand roughly over my core.

  Arching my body, I throw my head back while he kneads my ass, pressing me into his mouth, against his lashing tongue. Knowing that we could get caught and the fact that I’m entirely dressed while he devours my center make it all the more dangerous and sexy and have me suppressing a whimper. I writhe on his mouth as he sucks and then spears me with his tongue. Electricity pulses inside my belly when I look down, holding my skirt back so that our eyes meet as I weave my hand into his thick, black hair, which seems to spur him on. I can hear him growling, his fingers digging into my behind, my knees spread wide. My limbs quake when I grind down on his face until a titillating motion pushes me over the edge and I reach for the sun, panting. Biting my lip to subdue my moaning, an ongoing orgasm washes over me in a perfect tempest, and I collapse forward, gasping for breath for a moment as Henry places a kiss on my inner thigh.

  Having my thirst quenched like only he can, I move off Henry without touching him, lying down next to him when he holds out his arm. He licks his lips devilishly as I glance at his rampant arousal, but we need to take it easy with him.

  Content, I snuggle into the crook of his arm,
careful not to touch his abdomen, and Henry rubs circles over my lower back while I relish being in a cheerful place again. Although I hate the fact that he was shot, I’m so pleased he’s recovering quickly.

  “I love you,” I murmur, needing to say it again.

  Unfortunately, because of our past, I’m barely able to breathe while I wait for his answer.

  Henry cups my cheek, forcing me look up at him, and without an ounce of hesitation, he whispers, “I love you too.”

  At long last, his reply is the one I’ve hoped for.

  With a huge smile, I ghost my lips over his, repeating, “Ti amo più di quanto io possa capire.” I love you more than I can understand. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone, Henry.”

  Henry lets out a growl, spanking my ass. “Don’t make me harder by speaking Italian.” Then he pecks the tip of my nose in a tender manner he uses often. “That’s why it would’ve never worked out with anyone else anyway. Because you’ve always been mine, Mary,” he tells me, filling my heart with sweet joy. This is the second time Henry’s revealed his emotions.

  As if he reads my thoughts, he adds, “And by the way, I remember our talk right before I lost consciousness.”

  CHAPTER 47

  Henry

  “I remember our talk right before I lost consciousness,” I disclose, recalling every word. “And I meant it.”

  “I was hoping you did,” she replies as I trace my thumb over her beauty mark with the taste of her still on my tongue.

  “Well, since I’m still here, I obviously don’t fucking want you to find the trust you want elsewhere.”

  She stifles a chuckle. “I kind of got that. But can we trust each other?”

  “I trust you, Mary. And now I understand the importance of being honest about my feelings.” I trace her lips with my finger. “Do you trust me?”

  Without reluctance, she nods, and I palm the back of her head in satisfaction of her acquiescence.

  “Then maybe we should start over instead of staying mad about past mistakes. We can’t change what’s been done anyway. There are no more skeletons in my closet, but I...” I glance away for a second and grimace as I move, feeling a dull pain in my stomach. “I can’t always tell you everything, especially with me being Adriano’s successor. Do you get that?”

  Her hand wraps around my wrist. “I do, and I don’t want to know everything. Just don’t make me worry.”

  “I won’t. And you need to learn to ask me when you want to know things, okay? If I don’t think it’s a good idea to answer, I’ll tell you.”

  She frowns before her lips curve up. “You just managed to order me while masking it as a request.”

  Smirking, I retort, “Just respond.”

  “Yes, boss,” she drawls huskily right before I crash my mouth onto hers, grunting when I swell instantly, needing it to go down. The next week or two are going to be challenging. Laughing, Mary glimpses at my groin and stands up.

  “You’re not leaving, are you?” Jesus Christ. I’m so fucking addicted to having her with me. I sound like a whiny kid.

  She freezes, as if taken aback and troubled by my comment, and I wonder if she’s keeping something from me, but I shake it off when she answers, “No, but I need some coffee. You want one too? Then we’ll finish binge-watching Narcos.”

  “I’ll just take some more water.”

  “Okay. Be right back,” she says, starting to strut from the room without her panties, and I’m about to stop her, but then she looks back over her shoulder, stroking her hand down her luscious rear.

  “Mary, take one more fucking step, and I’ll jump out of this bed. You’re not walking around here without panties – without me,” I warn her, attempting to contain a grin.

  She rolls her eyes, shifting back to grab her underwear from the floor, and stepping into them.

  “When you get back, you can take them off again,” I speak in all seriousness, but she strolls out with a giggle.

  “No, no.” I hear her say before the door swings shut.

  “Yes, yes,” I reply, chuckling as I laze back.

  Thank fucking god she’s constantly here, or else I’d go crazy.

  ***

  After ten days in the hospital, I am going crazy from being cooped up. By now, my stitches have even been removed.

  “We could watch another TV show?” Mary proposes, seated on the bed cross-legged as I return from physical therapy, able to walk for a longer period of time. My abdomen can handle some pressure since the wounds have healed, and we’re focusing on building core strength.

  Since I have medicine and am in such good overall health, I’m well enough to go home. I feel so useless sitting here in sweatpants and a t-shirt all day without even my own laptop.

  “No, I want to talk to Marc and see if I can go home.”

  Mary gets off the bed as I slowly sink down into a padded chair at the window.

  “I don’t know if that’s smart.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “You don’t feel fine. You’re still recovering, and I see that you have twinges of pain sometimes.”

  “It’s not pain,” I defend.

  “Discomfort then. It’s your body telling you not to overdo it. You were shot twice, Henry.”

  “Christ! I know that.” I plow a hand through my hair. “I just hate being here, Mary. I hate your having to be locked up in here with me.” In a time when we want to start over, we shouldn’t be in a hospital – reminding us of how easily we can be wounded in this cruel world.

  “I don’t mind,” she whispers, seemingly telling me what she thinks I need to hear, and I loathe it.

  “I mind,” I retort when the man I’ve been waiting for comes into the room.

  “Henry, the nurse said you wanted to see me?” Marc begins.

  “Yes, I’m going crazy in here and I need to go home.”

  He looks at Mary and then back at me. “Why?”

  “I feel well enough.”

  “That’s because you’ve been taking it easy so far.” He opens my chart, reading the first page thoroughly. “Your therapy is going well. But I’m not sure it’s smart to let you go. Here, you can shower while sitting down, and the nurses do exercises with you at appointed times. At home, you’re alone and it could set you back. You might feel better than expected, but that doesn’t mean you can do any housework, or even start driving for at least a week. I want no extra pressure on your abdomen yet.”

  Peering at Mary, I wonder what to do when she offers, “He can stay with me.”

  My brows rise, yet as I consider the suggestion, I think it’s a good one. If it weren’t for Mary, I’d die of boredom, and if I stay with her, I can find very creative ways to spend our time in the privacy of her apartment.

  “Problem solved. I’ll stay with Mary.” I stand up, stepping closer to her to briefly kiss her on the mouth.

  I’m rewarded with a huge smile, but Marc interrupts, “Is Mary going to drive you to the hospital for therapy for the next few weeks?”

  Without breaking our stare, Mary replies, “Yeah.”

  I hear him sigh before he relents, “Okay, but I’m releasing you at your own risk.”

  “Agreed. I’m gone,” I announce, and he merely nods.

  “I expected that. I’ll make sure the paperwork doesn’t go into the hospital system.”

  “Perfect. Thanks,” I comment, and Mary’s already placed my bag on the bed, so we throw my stuff in it, both more than ready to leave Northwestern.

  ***

  After we enter Mary’s apartment, I follow her through the entryway as she turns left into the master bedroom with imposing floor-to-ceiling windows. The king-size canopy bed is pushed against the wall, overlooking the Chicago skyline, and a white wooden built-in closet spans the entire opposite wall. Since its doors are slid open, I notice she only has items on the lower shelves.

  “So...are you my private nurse?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “My slutty nurse.”
>
  Giggling, she sets my bag, which I wasn’t allowed to carry, on the floor as I stop behind her, still loving how petite she is and placing my hands on her hips. “Mary, can you not reach the top shelves?”

  She moves away from me. “You know I can’t.” Then she gestures to them, grumbling, “Look at how high they are. Who’s that tall?”

  I reach up to the top shelf with a smile. “I am.”

  She sends me a feigned glare. “Well, we’ve already established you have giant long legs.” And cocks her hip in the cutest yet fucking sexy manner. “If you want your slutty nurse, you better be nice.”

  I bring up my palm in supplication. “Fine.”

  “Go lie in bed,” she orders.

  “Only if you join me.” I kick off my shoes, shifting toward the huge bed, pleased we can finally sleep together again – something I’ve missed more than I care to admit.

  “With pleasure. I like having some company. I was thinking of getting another dog,” she remarks, shucking off her coat.

  “If you get a dog, I’m out of here,” I inform around a grin.

  Her lips twitch. “Fine...no dog. I’d rather have you here.”

  “Come on and get in,” I tell her, leaning back against a mountain of pillows. “But lose some clothes first. You’re too overdressed for a slutty nurse.”

  She throws her head back, laughing freely, making me feel the most carefree I’ve ever felt.

  When she scrambles into bed with me, lying in my arms, I’m where I’m supposed to be, with the woman who’s made me want love again. It took two bullets and the fear of death for us to get past our issues of distrust and lies. If Mary had died, I wouldn’t have had a reason to survive. That’s the truth that burns in my heart. She’s made me dependent on the intimacy she offers.

  Together, we lie in bed and do nothing while I recover, and the days go by much faster while Mary’s playing host and being the perfect nurse.

  In the long run, doing nothing is healthy for the mind and soul. If you skip that, you get drowned by your own thoughts and become stuck in your fears, refusing to let anyone get close, like I did after Tara cheated on me repeatedly. However, my assumption that everyone’s deceitful is wrong. I fucking believe with all my heart that Mary won’t ever deceive or cheat on me. In turn, as long as I make her feel cherished, she’ll trust me enough to accept any white lies I may have to tell in order to protect her. I have no other choice anyway, being a Syndicate member. And I’ll always scheme and kill to keep her world safe. Just as she will always remain vital and passionate about her causes and go on missions whenever she wants, which is why I’ll have a guard watch her around the clock, whether she wants it or not.

 

‹ Prev