Cruel Lover

“I’ll grab some blankets,” I tell her, kissing her forehead and rolling her to the side. “I can’t have you lying on damp sheets. I’ll be a couple of minutes.”

She nods, drowsy, and curls up tight as I pull the covers away as I slide off the couch. Naked, I wander to the doorway, then look back. She looks so perfect lying there, so innocent even after what we’ve just done. I smile and nod, then head upstairs, drop the sheets in the hamper in the bathroom and grab clean blankets out of the closet.

But when I get back, I find my place taken.

Roxie has found her way into the living room and climbed up next to Malta, her thick fur providing warmth and comfort as Malta’s arm hangs loosely over the dog’s flank. I grin, then drape the blanket over the two of them, eliciting the tiniest grunt of acknowledgment from Roxie. Then I settle on the floor, pull another blanket over myself, and fall into a contented sleep.

Chapter Five

Malta

I draw in a deep, joyous breath, and for the first time in as long as I remember I smile.

Really smile.

Not the smile of a lawyer encouraging a witness to say what they saw. Not the forced smile of someone who is just trying to make it through the day.

This is a real smile. A smile of happiness, of the knowledge that I’m safe and loved and things are going right. I stretch out, groaning a little at the kink in my neck, and hear a soft murmur from the floor beside me. At first I think it’s Oz, then I feel the warm wetness of a soft tongue licking my fingers and my eyes snap open.

“Hey, Roxie,” I say with a little chuckle, pulling my hand away from her eager mouth and rasping my knuckles across her head. “Where’s your daddy?”

I look around the room, pulling the soft blanket up under my chin for extra warmth as I let the details of last night come back into my mind. It plays backwards, like someone’s searching back through the recording. He made me come. Actually come. I orgasmed in the arms of Odysseus Volos.

Wow.

And I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the only one climaxing. So chalk that up as a win.

He also cooked for me, which I honestly never expected. I’m not an idiot, I know how his family make their money. I’m pretty sure he works for them, which makes him what? A gangster? Is that even a thing anymore in this day and age? The word makes me think of pinstripe suits, fedoras and Tommy guns. It doesn’t make me think of delicious pasta and meat dishes served with quiet conversations about where my life has led me in the years we were apart.

So he cooked for me, because I was in his bed, because I passed out from a diabetic hypo, because I was at that gambling place…

Oh my god.

“Dad,” I whisper, my hand going to my mouth.

How could I forget what happened to him? How could I forget that he’s in the hospital? Oz said that he had moved him to the Volos family’s private ward, so he should be safe, but how is he doing? The last I knew, he was still in and out of consciousness.

Getting up off the sofa, I rush to the bedroom followed closely by Roxie, and find a note next to my purse.

Morning, Angel. I had to leave early, a few errands to run. I’m making some changes. But I’ll be back soon. Make yourself at home, eat something. I left Roxie to keep you company. All my love, Oz. XXX

Even in my panic, I can’t help clutching the note to my chest, aware that I’m still basically naked, dressed in nothing but a lacy pair of boy shorts, my bra lost somewhere in the living room. He said love. All my love. Am I reading too much into that?

I force the thought out of my mind and dig through my purse for my phone, then start to panic when it’s not there. My heart starts to race, and I pointlessly search the bag again, moving aside lipstick, tampons, keys, cards.

Not there.

Roxie nuzzles up against my side and I absently fuss her head, turning, and spot the red light glowing in the corner of the room. Rushing over, I finally start to calm down as I realize it really is my phone, attached to a charging cable.

Oz must have done it for me. Should I be annoyed at the idea of him looking through my purse? It’s an invasion of privacy, right? Or should I be swooning?

He’s taking care of me. Doing things for me.

Ugh, my mind is all over the place.

The phone is almost on full charge, so I won’t unplug it right now. I’ll take a shower first, then call the hospital and find out how my dad is doing.