Page 98 of Ace

"It doesn't matter," he says, and I can tell that it also had something to do with Christopher.

"I'm so sorry," I say, leaning forwardso I can bury my head in his shoulder and cry, but the injury on my forehead makes me scream in pain.

"I think she needs to go to the hospital," the medic says.

"I'll kill every fucking one of you!"

I lift my head and look over Eddie's shoulder, watching as the man I thought was my brother fights against the restraints at his back.

"You bitch!" he spits in my direction. "This isn't over. You're all gonna fucking die. When I'm president—"

The ranting continues even after he's pulled from the cabin.

"How did you find me?" I ask, my shoulders still screaming from how I was restrained.

"I put a tracker on your car," he says, as if it's completely normal to do so.

"That's how you knew I was back in DC?"

Confusion draws his brow tight for a second. "I knew you were headed back to DC because you stopped at a gas station halfway between here and there. I knew you were going back to the same hotel because you're acreature of habit. That's something we're gonna have to talk about, babe. You need to be less predictable. It opens the doors for so many—"

Despite the pain it causes, I lift my arm and press two fingers to his lips.

"If you keep calling me pet names, I'm going to get ideas, Eddie Yarrow."

His smile is slow and there are better times and definitely better places than the here and now for the things I see lighting up his eyes, but I don't think I've ever felt more protected than I do right now, and it's more him than the men swarming about in combat gear.

"You need to go get checked out at the hospital," he says as I try to stand. "Let me help you."

Myfirst instinct is to push him away, to insist that I'm strong enough to do it on my own, but I realize that there's no harm in letting someone care for me. It's okay to be weak every once in a while.

I press my head to his shoulder when he sweeps me up in his arms.

I wince when he fully stands, injuries from my fall back at the house having a much greater effect on my body than I realized.

"I think I might have a concussion," I whisper, my stomach rolling as he carries me out the front door.

"Damn," he whispers. "Let's see what the doctors say at the—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Ignore him, baby. He's crazed."

I lift my head, eyes brimming with tears as I see Christopher still struggling against his restraints as the officers try to get him into the back of a squad car.

"You can't fall for a man like him," Chris screams. "You'll ruin the family name. They're all dogs! They're not elite! Cora! Not him!"

Two officers finally get him in the back of the squad car, but that doesn't keep him from trying to kick out the glass.

"He's really rocking that insanity thing, isn't he?" a man says as he approaches.

"Really?" Eddie snaps. "A little compassion, Jericho?"

"Oh shit. Sorry, ma'am."

Instead of even worrying about being offended or snapping at him because this is so much to take in, I simply rest my head back on Eddie's chest.

So long as I can stay in his arms forever, I think I'll be fine. It's when he decides to put me back down that I'll start to struggle.

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