Page 26 of Kristoff

I step into my room, and my gaze goes straight to the bed. The cover is mussed where she’s been sitting while she waits for the chance to run. My grin falters. Damn. Harlan may not be the only one hooked on a woman.

I pull in a deep breath and sort through my shirts.

“Celia.” Harlan’s voice rings out in the hallway.

“I have to get downstairs,” she snaps.

“Wait,” he adds, after his appeal is ignored.

Her steps are landing hard enough to hear, where I’m standing.

“I need to finish putting dinner together.” She strides away, tossing over her shoulder, “Before we start getting customers.”

I cringe. I’m supposed to be working the kitchen today. “I’ll be right—”

“I’ve got it,” she snaps, from somewhere downstairs.

I’m not going there. Unlike Harlan, I have enough sense to give her some space.

Grabbing a brown pullover, I head back to the bathroom as Harlan disappears down the stairs. After a quick knock, I open the door to find Brianna wrapped in the large towel. She’s wringing out her dress in the sink, same as I did a couple of nights ago.

I toss the shirt over my shoulder, leaning against the doorframe while I wait for her to finish. We have to talk about what happened, and about her leaving. My gut wrenches at the thought. I’m not ready to let her go. How is it she’s become part of my life so quickly? She’s been here, what, two days? And I know little to nothing about her other than what makes her come so hard.

I can’t exactly blame her. I haven’t been forthcoming myself. Keeping a low profile may be the one reason we’re still alive. Living in a place small enough not to come up on a map and not to be given a name allows for some peace of mind. Yet, if trouble came to our front door, nobody would be around to help. Cold fear runs through me. For her. For Harlan. For myself. Damn, now Celia’s on the list, too.

Brianna has been rather self-sufficient. Though now, without the drug in her system, she’s shy and scared. At her core, she isn’t exactly helpless. She made it out of the compound, and all the way to this point, through her own devices.

Due to my situation, I have nothing to offer a woman. And there’s no telling what a woman in her situation would need. She’s on the run from something, and I can’t even say what.

I’ve spent years holding back my temper and telling myself I can’t get involved. The urge to assert myself and set things straight is pulling at the prison inside me. I can’t let it happen.

When we started over, I swore I was going to chain up the uncompromising-son-of-a-bitch side of me. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to remain levelheaded, calm, cool, and collected. This little scene with Gerald reminds me how worn those chains are getting.

My gut tells me this is going to blow up in my face. So I need to be ready. In order to prepare, I have to know what’s coming.

“It’s time you tell me why people are so interested in getting you back to Faust.”

Her gaze finds mine in the small mirror over the sink.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Brianna

Seconds pass, and I tear my gaze away from the mirror. Rolling my teeth over my lip, I give my dress one more twist then shake it out.

Should I tell him why Faust has people looking for me? Simply knowing may put him in danger. Put them all in danger. Lord, I shouldn’t have stopped here. Yet, I can’t regret the time I spent with Kristoff.

I also can’t hold back and risk their lives. I’ll have to come up with a reasonable version of the truth I can share.

I grab the hanger from the curtain rod and slip it into the dress. Leaning into the cubby, I hook it onto the showerhead to dry again.

Running my damp palms over my hips, I face Kristoff. My mouth has gone dry. “Did you need to head downstairs?” I ask, hoping I can delay this conversation.

“No,” he says, crushing my hopes. “I think I’ll let that powder keg take care of itself first.”

“Okay.” Not that I have any other choice. “Let’s go.”

He leads us back to his room, just as a door opens downstairs. We both stop. My heartbeat speeds up again.

---