Page 223 of Dare To Live

“Hey, Kitten.”

Chapter 128

Eli

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

I ignore the snapped question and continue trying to dress.

“You’ve been shot. You can’t just get up and walk around. Get back in the fucking bed.”

I glance over at Bret. “Unless you’re planning to arrest me and handcuff me in place, fuck off.”

“Eli, you need to rest.”

“I need to see Ari.” Something shifts in his expression, and I ditch trying to put on socks in favor of glaring at him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing. She’s fine. It’s just …”

“Just. What?”

“She was freaking out because she saw you on the ground. I tried to tell her you were alive, but she was too far gone and wasn’t listening.”

“Where is she?”

“A few rooms down.”

“Get the fuck out of my way.” I use my good arm to push to my feet, grunting at the pain that shoots through me.

“Eli—”

“Do not fucking Eli me.”

“You know … if you’d left the vest on, like I told you, you wouldn’t have been shot at all.”

“If I’d left the vest on, I wouldn’t have survived the car crash. He’d have killed me right there.”

“We wouldn’t have let that happen.”

I snort. “Right, sure. Like you protected the poor couple and their son who were in the farmhouse. Because you got there so quickly, didn’t you?”

“That’s not fair. We didn’t expect them to be there. And we’d have been there sooner if Arabella had followed your instructions.”

My jaw clenches. “Do not blame her for your fuck up.” I limp across the room, catching sight of my reflection in the window.

I stop and turn. I look a mess. One eye is still swollen shut, my lips are bruised and scabbed over. There are black and purple bruises covering my face, and chest. A bandage is covering the gunshot wound just below my right shoulder and near my armpit.

Bret appears behind me. “You were fucking lucky he didn’t kill you.”

“No thanks to you.”

“Eli—”

“You used us, Bret. You saw a way to boost your career by catching an escaped psychopath, and you used us to do it. Tell me, if one of us had died, would you have given a fuck?”

“Of course, I would.”

“I don’t believe you.”

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