Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
It’s all I can do not to confront him, but that would be an emotional response that leads to no place good, especially with Creed injured and inside my room.
“It’s late to go out alone,” he comments dryly, suspicion in the depths of his eyes.
“I’m a general’s daughter,” I remind him, and then in an effort to avoid suspicion of my outing I quickly quip, “We’ll risk life and limb for a toothbrush.”
There’s a flicker of distrust in his eyes swiftly replaced with a lusty look that makes me actually want to close the space between us just so I can plant my knee in the place that would most hurt him. Disgusting man really plans to bed me before he kills me, and it doesn’t get much sicker than that.
“We’re both awake,” he drawls, leaning against the doorjamb. “Why not share a little nightcap?”
My fingers curl around the metal knob in my palm a bit more firmly, ready to dart for a quick escape, but somehow, I paint on a smile, and stand my ground. “I’m exhausted, and we leave early. We said tomorrow night, if we aren’t too tired. Let’s leave it at that.”
His heavy-lidded inspection follows, along with a thick silence that all but suffocates me before he straightens and says, “Lobby at straight one thousand hours, then?”
Relief washes over me in literal waves, but I school my features and my tone to unaffected. “I’ll see you then. Night,” I don’t wait for a reply. I shove open the door, and quickly close it firmly behind me, locking up and flipping that steel brace into place.
“I’m going to really enjoy killing that sonofabitch.”
My heart skips a beat and I whirl around to find Creed sitting on the edge of the bed, facing me. His long dark hair is as wild as the man, only half in the tie at his nape, and most notably, he’s struggling to hold a soaked, bloody red towel pressed to his side.
Chapter Eighteen
He’s bleeding too much, even for a GTECH.
This thought has me tossing my purse to the ground and rushing toward Creed, closing the space between us lightning fast, and settling on my knees in front of him. “God, Creed. You’re not good. And I knew you were hurt, I could feel it, but I couldn’t get him to leave.”
“What’s tomorrow night, Addie?”
My eyes jerk to his and I can feel the connection between us ignite some deep part of me and he must read the question I have not spoken because he says, “Yes, I heard.”
I’m only marginally stunned at the idea that he can now hear through a door, considering all that I have seen these past two years, and far too pleased at his jealousy to be healthy for either of us, especially him in his current wounded state.
“Don’t do that right now,” I whisper. “You’re bleeding too much. We have to stop it. We need fresh towels.” I push to my feet and he catches my hand, turning me back to him. “Addie…”
There’s pain in his voice, and not the kind that wound caused. Everything inside me reacts and it’s a confusing rush of emotions and thoughts; the need to wipe away his pain, the need to believe we matter beyond some forced bond, the fear of losing someone I told myself I never wanted to see again. Or so I pretended. “We have to stop the bleeding.”
“I’ll heel.”
“Not if a bullet is in there—”
“There is.”
“Then you know we have to get it out,” I say, being his voice of reason, something a GTECH doesn’t often need to possess. “Let me get the towels.” He hesitates, resistance in every existence and I’m not having it. “Creed, damn it,” I hiss. “Don’t be stupid. You might not be human, but you can still die.”
“I’ll heal.”
“Will you? Is that always certain?”
“Mostly.”
“Damn it,” I repeat, “don’t ‘mostly’ me while you sit there and bleed out. Put pressure on the wound while I get you fresh towels.”
He grits his teeth and releases me. I’m already running to the bathroom, scooping up every towel, my heart drumming at the wall of my chest. I return to the bedroom to find him lying on his back and I don’t hesitate to join him. I kick off my shoes and my knees hit the mattress. I’m pressed to his side, positioning myself for access to the wound. And the intimacy of the moment hidden beneath the urgency driving it feels as if it might be the last time, and it’s terrifying.
I grab the soaked towel and toss it, pressing a fresh one to his side.
“Why don’t you have on Zodius body armor?” I demand, not sure how I stop the bleeding and get his shirt off to see the wound properly. I don’t give him time to answer. “You’re not invincible no matter what you think. You might heal quickly, but you can bleed to death just like the rest of us.”