“Go away,” he tells her. “Go swim in the pool or play with your babies. Go do something else.”
Planting a hand on her hip, she tells him, “No.”
“Why do you have to be a pain in my ass? You would never pull this shit with Mateo.”
Flashing him a playful smile, she says, “That’s why you’re my second husband, not my first.”
Adrian mutters and takes a step back, letting her back inside the bedroom. “Do not get close to her,” he says more firmly. “She knows your value; she could use you for leverage to get herself free.”
I shoot Adrian a mildly annoyed look as I wiggle back against the headboard. “I’m not going to hurt her. She’s never done anything to me, and she has babies. I’m also handcuffed, so unless I want to bear hug her, I can’t do much to her.”
“Yes, you could,” he argues.
“Maybe you could. I’m a waitress, not special ops. I assure you, I cannot do more than hug her with these cuffs on, and if Rafe saw me hugging Mia, I have a feeling it would drift into fantasy territory, not hostage negotiations.”
Completely disregarding Adrian’s orders not to get close to me, Mia comes over and sits down on the edge of Rafe’s bed, smiling faintly at me. “I’m glad to see you haven’t lost your humor.”
Shaking his head, Adrian draws out his gun, pulls back the hammer, and points it at me. My face freezes, but he’s merely warning me. “Touch her, and I’ll clean up Rafe’s mess for him.”
“Adrian,” Mia objects, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I don’t trust her,” he states.
“I won’t touch her,” I promise.
Sighing, Mia shakes her head and looks back at me. “I’m so sorry about this. I wasn’t trying to make things worse, I just wanted to see how you were doing. I thought maybe I could bring you something. Are you hungry? Thirsty? I could bring you a book to read, or maybe a robe to wear? They have you practically naked in here. I have a soft satin robe I could bring you. I brought it from home, but it’s clean, I haven’t worn it. Would you like me to get it for you?”
I shake my head, nodding my head at the cuffs. “I can’t get my hands in the sleeves, but thank you.”
“Nothing to eat?”
“I don’t really have much of an appetite right now,” I tell her.
She nods her understanding and we sit there quietly for a minute. Her gaze lingers on the bedding, and after a pause she asks, “So, you know a lot of things you shouldn’t, huh?”
There’s no point denying it, so I nod my head. “Yep.”
Her blue eyes meet mine with just a hint of wariness. “Do you know anything about my husband?”
“I know he doesn’t like tortilla chips,” I say, lightly. With a more reassuring smile, I shake my head. “Nothing I could use against him in a legal capacity. Don’t worry.”
The weight on her shoulders lightens some, but she still looks vaguely concerned. “Sometimes I struggle with certain aspects of this life. I wasn’t brought up in it or anything, I was just… I was normal. I don’t come from a cutthroat world. I don’t have it in me to be hard and ruthless. I always want to save people, and sometimes I’m wrong. Sometimes the people I want to save would destroy my family, destroy my whole life. Sometimes… sometimes I shouldn’t try to help. I’ve learned that. But it’s still hard.”
I can’t imagine why she would feel she owes me anything, but I tell her, “You don’t have to try to save me, Mia. Like Adrian said, I’m really not your problem.”
She nods a little sadly. “I know. I just can’t help it.”
She needs to help me. She needs to do something. There’s no point in both of us feeling shitty, so I throw her a task. “Actually, I am a little thirsty. Maybe you could bring me a cold bottle of water?”
“Of course,” she says, standing and heading for the door. Glancing at me over her shoulder, she offers a little smile and says, “I’ll be right back.”
When she leaves, Adrian regards me with his wordless stare. I can’t read it, but I assume it’s distrustful.
“Don’t worry, I can’t fashion a bomb out of a water bottle,” I tell him. “I’m not 007.”
I mean, without reading instructions first, I can’t do that. No point telling him that part.
“Do not try to manipulate her,” he warns.