Convict (Sin City Salvation 2)

Ace didn’t seem content with that answer, and even though I was raring to go, it was clear he wouldn’t leave until he was satisfied. “Okay, so three days of bed rest? Or more? Should I bring her back on day three? How do we know if anything warrants another visit in that time? What if she gets a headache, or feels nauseous, or—”

“For the love,” I interjected. “I’m going to be just fine. You don’t need to ask all these questions.”

But it was apparent when he turned to me, and I saw the panic in his eyes, he did. And I understood why. He thought that if he did everything just right this time, nothing horrible would happen to me. He wouldn’t let me down like he believed he’d let down Mary-Kate. That realization struck me right in the only soft spot I had left, and I sat back down on the bed and folded my hands together.

I let him continue to harass the doctor, and only when he had a detailed list on a piece of paper did he decide it was safe for us to leave. I was pretty sure as he helped me out of the hospital that they would be reporting the entire incident to the police regardless, but I’d given them my fake ID and Ace had paid for everything in cash. So I only hoped that would prevent this incident from coming back to haunt me.

Ace loaded me into the truck and secured my seat belt, finally giving me the green light to rest. As soon as we were on the road again, and I felt his presence next to me, it was exactly what I did.

I came to just as Ace was settling me into bed. As my eyes opened up and I took in the room around me, panic began to set in. The room wasn’t familiar, and none of my things were here. My nightlight wasn’t here. And already, I felt like I couldn’t breathe as I imagined him leaving me in this place alone. On instinct, my fingers wrapped around his wrist, clinging to him, and he shook his head.

“It’s okay. This is my room.”

I blinked, trying to focus through the blurriness that had settled into my vision from sleep. But as tired as I was, curiosity held me captive as I sat up and took everything in. His room was large and empty. There was a bed, a dresser, and a closet that was only about half full. But it smelled like Huck. Notes of cedar and leather and cloves lingered on the bedding, comforting me in a way that was new.

“How are you feeling?” His eyes wandered over my face as he gently tucked my hair behind my ear.

“Like hell,” I murmured. “Probably about as good as I look.”

“You need to rest,” he answered decidedly. “That’s all. You’ll be fine in a few days.”

I knew that was true, but I was too proud to admit I didn’t want to sleep alone. There was still a lot lingering between us—too many uncertainties to name—but right then, I needed Huck. And I’d never needed anybody.

He leaned over to the bedside table, pulling open a drawer and retrieving a tin. But then he looked up at me like something else had occurred to him, and he grabbed a second bottle of weed. I watched in fascination as he rolled us a joint before he slipped it between my lips.

His palm came up to cup my cheek, tracing the physical evidence left behind from the attack. His eyes had melted into a deep amber, and his voice was gruff when he brought the lighter to the paper. “Now you can try Mary-Kate’s Last Dance.”

I swallowed, a torrent of emotions opening up inside me. This blend was sacred to him. This blend was his medicine. His way of fixing the broken like me. I inhaled it slowly, savoring each taste he gave me as he alternated between resting it against my lips and taking it away for a long second. The entire time, his eyes never moved from my mouth, and I felt the heat of his stare all the way into my soul.

Finally, he dragged the joint to his lips and inhaled, tasting me on his tongue as I watched with a hunger I couldn’t deny. I was bruised and battered, but I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted him right then. Ace seemed to read my thoughts as he leaned forward and pushed his lips to mine, releasing the smoke from his lungs into my mouth. Slowly, it slipped out between us as he started to kiss me. His tongue slid between the seam of my lips, and I opened for him the way I always did. He rewarded me with a growl that rumbled from his chest while his fingers cupped the back of my skull. Holding me in place, he rolled over and mounted my body with his massive frame. I wrapped my legs around him, fingers digging into his back as his body dipped forward, and I felt the heat of his cock rubbing against my shorts.