Killer

When I wake up, it’s nighttime. The bright lights of the Vegas strip shine through the huge windows on one side of the room. Disoriented, I push myself to a sitting position.

The furniture is familiar. This is definitely my hotel, but not my room. A quiet snuffle next to me answers the question as to whose room it is. Keller is lying on his stomach, arms under his pillow, his face slack with sleep. My eyes trace over the intricate, traditional Thai sak yant tattoos on his back.

How did I get here?

My bladder cries for relief, so I slide out of bed and quietly take care of business. When I return, I sit on the edge of the mattress to watch Keller for a few minutes. He’s handsome all of the time, but without all of his hard edges and angry scowls, he is positively stunning. Sleep wipes away the constant fury, the hostility, the walls he puts up. I see Keller as he’s meant to be, young, relaxed, gorgeous—it breaks my heart that he’s filled with such anger and self-hatred.

We all have our demons.

Keller rolls to his side, slinging an arm out across the bed. His hand finds my waist and as strong as he is, I don’t stand a chance. Keller pulls me to his body, tucking me into his side and dropping a soft kiss on the back of my neck.

I melt into his touch, letting the safety of being in his arms quiet the noise in my head. There are so many questions, but do I really want to know the answers if it could jeopardize what I have with Keller? For the first time in a decade, I feel calm. The constant anxiety I carry around has been shed like dropping a heavy, dead outer husk, leaving me light and free to live without fear.

“Hey.” Keller’s muffled voice breaks me from my thoughts.

“Hey.”

I twist to see over my shoulder and Keller presses a chaste kiss to my forehead. Such a tender gesture from such a violent man. “You feeling better?”

I shift to sit up and Keller joins me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. His dark hair is matted in the back, sticking up in every direction. Beneath his gray eyes are heavy, dark circles. Keller looks tired. And adorable.

“I’m fine. I just… what happened? Please, tell me.”

Keller throws off the sheet and stands up, his perfect body on full display. Wearing only a pair of tight black briefs, he stalks over to the window, bracing one arm on the glass over his head, pressing his forehead to the smooth surface as he stares out at the lights of the strip.

“You… a… then… scary…”

I move closer—with his back to me, my bad ear prevents me from catching what Keller says. I run my hand down the silky skin over his spine and his chest rumbles with pleasure. “I’m sorry, K. I didn’t hear you.”

Keller breathes in and out slowly. I can see the muscles in his jaw pulsing. He still won’t look at me, blindly staring outside. “You had a seizure, Britt.”

My blood runs cold and my hand drops to my side. I take a step back, not wanting to hear the rest.

Keller spins around, his face a combination of fury and anguish. “That fucker Wolfe shoved me and…” He squeezes his eyes shut, causing the tendons in his neck to pull taut. “I hit you with my elbow.” Speaking through clenched teeth, he continues. “That asshole made me hit you and you hit your head and started convulsing. Fuck, Britt…” Keller swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his eyes still closed.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, taking another step back.

Keller’s eyes pop open. “What are you sorry for? It’s that motherfucker Wolfe who’s going to be sorry. Seeing you in that hospital… Jesus.” Large hands run through his mangled hair and he stares up at the ceiling. I’ve seen Keller upset, but this is beyond angry. Keller’s eyes glint with lethality.

But my mind isn’t focused on Keller or his desire for revenge. All I can think of is if I was in the hospital for a seizure, the doctors would have seen my scar. My heart races, throbbing painfully inside my chest. Did they tell Keller about my injury? I can’t have him treating me differently. He’ll be afraid to touch me. He won’t give me what I need. He won’t help me feel safe.

I retreat another step, surprised when the back of my legs hit the mattress.

Keller’s hands fall from his head and he focuses on me. Tilting his head, he gives me a strange look. “Where are you going?”

“I’m…” I glance around the room, searching for my clothes so I can get the hell out of here before I have to see the pity in his eyes.

In a flash, Keller is in front of me before I can come up with an excuse to flee. His thick thighs pin mine to the bed, while his wide hands and long fingers span my waist, holding me firmly in place. “What’s wrong? Why are you afraid of me?”

“I-I’m not. I just… I need to get back to my r-room. To clean up.”

“I had all of your things moved here. You’re not staying by yourself. I’m not chancing you having another seizure with no one there for you.” Keller barks out an unamused laugh. “Fuck that. No way. You’re not leaving my side ever again.”

I wonder if I get a say in the matter, but decide not to argue… yet.

“How did I get here?” I change the subject, trying to remember the events between waking in the hospital and waking up here, and fail. There’s only darkness, and the horrific, haunting images of “the incident.”

Keller raises an eyebrow and brings up a hand to brush my hair back behind one ear. “You don’t remember? You were awake, but kind of out of it. They said you would be like that from