Page 32 of Matched into the Mob

Ranger crossed his arms. I was familiar with that technique. He was protecting himself from me. I chuckled inwardly because me, the short scrawny omega, was intimidating the mobsteralpha. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“That’s not easy to answer.”

“Come on,” I scoffed. “It’s a yes-or-no question.”

He picked up my palm and gently traced a finger over the wound. “You see this?”

“I feel it.”

“Your questions are tangled up with this mark.”

That was no answer, and exhaustion finally claimed me and my shoulders slumped. My head lolled to the side, and I jerked myself up, refusing to fall asleep on Ranger’s shoulder.

“Rest, Matt. It’s been a traumatic couple of days for you.” He added, “I’ll half sit and half lie here until you’re asleep before making my way to the floor.”

“Should I get you a violin? A tiny one?”

“Okay, I get that. You’re mocking my woe-is-me response. Go ahead. I can take it.”

“Don’t try any funny stuff.” I turned away, folding my pillow in half, and closed my eyes.

But my sleep wasn’t restful because Dane invaded my dreams, waving his gun around, blood spurting from my chest, and there were deafening screams—mine.

“Matt!”

“Don’t shoot. Go away. Leave me alone.”

“Hey, wake up. It’s me.”

My eyes snapped open, and a man was holding me, his face a hair’s breadth from mine.

“Don’t touch me.”

“You’re safe, Matt. No one is trying to hurt you. You had a bad dream.”

“Ranger?” I should’ve been just as scared of him as I was of the people in my nightmare. He was like them. But he’d cooked me dinner, saved me from Dane, and given me a place to hide. But on the flip side, the guy had bitten me.

“Do you want a drink of water?”

Him mentioning water reminded me of the storm. “Do you hear that? The rain’s stopped.” Gods, the water level would drop and Dane’s goons would come after me.

“No, it’s still raining, just not as heavy. And the wind has died down a little.”

I grabbed him. “It’s still raining, Ranger.” Thank gods. I was safe for a while longer.

“Do you like cocoa?”

Way to change the subject. “Why are you asking?”

He grinned. “I thought you might like a cup.”

“Okay.” When we were in the kitchen last night, I’d noticed the stove was gas, so not having power wasn’t a problem.

“Unless you can make it in the bedroom, I’m coming with you.”

“It’ll be cold downstairs.”

Though the bed was warm and toasty, I wasn’t staying here by myself. “I’d rather be with you.”

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