He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Blake and Morgan as they slept. Her small nude frame was nestled against Blake’s much larger one. If the way her arms were clasped around his neck offered any indication, she held on for dear life.
After a full day at the hospital awaiting an opportunity to leave Kilo with a stern warning, Grant was exhausted. He’d had a lot of time to think. Regrets made a man weak, and until he overcame the guilt he’d been carrying for his brother’s death, Grant wasn’t sure he’d ever be the same.
Lately, he’d thought about Scott a lot. He’d rarely permitted himself to revisit the past and his kid brother’s final days. The memories were too painful. The guilt often brought on more heartache than he could handle.
Grant tried to help Scott, but he didn’t take the time to do everything he could. It wasn’t easy managing a drug addict or helping a junkie who didn’t think he had a problem. Eventually, Grant lost hope.
He gave up too soon.
Morgan wouldn’t slip away without a fight. They would face numerous battles ahead, but eventually she would see things his way. She’d remember the vibrant life she used to have before drugs. He’d make sure of it.
Grant tilted his head and watched her eyelashes flutter. Her body jerked and beads of sweat peppered her brow. She must’ve been trapped in another endless nightmare. Instead of waking her, he waited and watched.
Morgan needed to face her fears in order to overcome them. If they enabled her, if her recovery proved too easy, she’d return to the streets and search for her drugs again. After she willingly agreed to submit to him and Blake, Grant wouldn’t give her the opportunity to return to her old way of life.
He loved her too much. Morgan deserved the sensational life she still had the potential to lead, and he planned to make her accountable. Together, he and Blake would watch her every move.
Kicking off his boots, Grant unbuttoned his shirt, leaving the front open. He unhooked the top button on his jeans and thought about undressing altogether. Then again, he should probably wait until he had the opportunity to gauge Morgan’s emotional well-being.
It had been a long day, and as much as he’d like to have an even longer night, he didn’t have the energy for an all-night training session. He wanted to hold the woman he cherished and love the pain away—his and hers.
Morgan squirmed out of Blake’s locked arms and opened her eyes as soon as he sat down on the mattress. “Grant?”
“Yes. It’s me, baby.”
Lying beside her, he pulled her against his chest, combing his fingers through her silken hair. Her body felt so good next to his. He’d missed this. He’d missed her.
He stroked her soft skin and as his body reacted to hers, he couldn’t stop the lust building inside. As much as he would like to lie beside her and ease into a special moment of tender lovemaking, he couldn’t help himself. Something about Morgan always stirred the insatiable male living inside him.
Being next to her made him want to love her hard and wild. He wanted to lose himself inside her body. If for no other reason but to assure himself that she belonged to him again.
“Is Kilo okay?” she asked, brushing her knuckles across his cheekbone.
And just like that the recklessness need to possess her came to an abrupt halt.
He grabbed her wrist and stared into her pretty eyes. What kind of chokehold did Kilo have on Morgan? Why, after everything he’d done to her—things she wasn’t even willing to share or talk about with them—would she care about that thug’s well-being?
The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. Kilo had access to Morgan’s poison of choice, and unfortunately, until Morgan learned to survive without her drug, Kilo would be part of her life. He would always be her Plan B.
“She’s been worried about that bastard all night,” Blake explained before Grant went the hell off, and he was mighty close about the time Blake spoke up.
“Why?” Grant asked, watching Blake curiously as he yawned, stretched, and acted like her inquiries were no big deal. They were a huge fucking problem for Grant. If Blake wasn’t already so smitten by Morgan again, he might have a few issues with Morgan’s compassion for Kilo, too.
“Don’t ask me,” Blake replied, tilting his head toward Morgan. “One minute she hates him. One minute she loves him.”
“Is that true?” Grant asked, realizing the love-hate relationship existed because of the drug, not Kilo.
She shrugged, her bare shoulders breaking free of the white sheet around her. “I just want to be sure he’s okay.”
“Why?” Grant asked firmly. “I want to know why he matters.”
“I didn’t want you to kill him,” she retorted. “I didn’t want you to have his blood on your hands. He’s not worth it, Grant. I know you think you can stop him, but he’s part of a gang. There are several drug dealers who work and live with Kilo. Even if Kilo is out of the way, they’ll keep coming. The organization he leads is very aware of my drug debt. His brother would send someone else here in the event of Kilo’s death.”
“I see,” Grant said, unconcerned with Kilo or who he might send to collect on a debt that would never be paid. By the time Grant discussed Kilo and his friends with Morgan’s brothers, that farm would be harder to traipse across than a mob boss’s lawn.
Grant’s gaze averted. “Blake? Did you tell her Kilo and I had a scuffle?”
“You call that a scuffle?” A beat later, Blake added, “I didn’t tell her a thing. She claims she’s so in tune with him that she felt his pain.”