Page 91 of The Woman in the Warehouse

What I’d seen.

What I’d done.

What I’d endured.

But, most importantly, what I’d almost lost.

When I felt drained dry of the tears, I quickly scrubbed my body, then climbed out, changed, and brushed out my hair before looking in my closet for something I could loan Anthony.

I found an oversized zip-up hoodie that would let me and Salvatore check his wound easily.

With the bad emotions swirling down the drain, I suddenly felt dead on my feet.

“When did Emilio leave?” I asked, finding Anthony alone.

“Just when we heard you moving around in your room,” he said. “You okay?”

“That’s my line.”

“I’m borrowing it,” he said as he sat up, letting me slide him out of his shirt and jacket, then slide him into the hoodie. I zipped it up then worked his belt loose to make him more comfortable. “Are you okay?” he asked again when I was done busying myself.

I sucked in a breath that shook across my chest as I sat down next to him on his good side, leaning my head into his chest, listening to his heartbeat against my ear. The sound of it had my eyes filling up again.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Today was a lot,” I added as his arm went around me, holding onto me surprisingly tightly for someone who’d gotten pretty weak already from the blood loss.

He tilted down, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“We’re both breathing. Everything else, we can deal with.”

Well, that was certainly true.

“Ugh, what now?” I grumbled when my phone started to ring.

Folding up, I grabbed it and swiped the screen without looking. “What?” I asked, hearing the exhaustion in my own voice.

“Just calling to let you know that Fury is snuggled up nice and comfy with her Uncle Keith,” Keith said, making a snorting laugh escape me.

“Thank you, Keith. I appreciate it.”

“We had a long talk about Mommy and Daddy being a little under the weather,” he went on. This time, instead of wanting to roll my eyes at his comments, I felt that warm sensation move across my chest again. “She took the news remarkably well. Though, to be fair, she was eating a treat at the time.”

“Keith, you better not be feeding her pizza rolls.”

“Don’t be silly,” he said, as if it was insane to assume such a thing. “She has a cheese and bacon-flavored treat we picked out at the bodega. Which is basically a pizza roll. But for dogs.”

“Okay. Good. I’m glad she’s content with you. You sure you’re okay with her for a day or two?”

“Or five or six,” he said, making me shake my head.

“I’ll pick her up as soon as things are stable,” I told him.

“Sure sure. Or not. Whatever.”

“You’re not stealing my dog, Keith,” I told him.

“She really likes me.”

“She really likes me too.”

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