Page 15 of Resurrection

“Not in the mood for your tiptoeing through the daisies comments,” I say.

Her laughter peals through the room. “Are you ever?”

“No,” I grumble and eat more bacon.

When we were together, Carys was perpetually sunny when faced with my doom and gloom. I pretended to be annoyed by it, but her optimism was a trait I used to love. At least that hasn’t changed.

“You got any drugs?” I say.

“Oh.” She rises and saunters into the kitchen, opening a corner cupboard.

“Sorry. I completely forgot you were injured. I should have remembered because you move like an old man with arthritis.”

Lena stifles a laugh with her hand.

“I don’t look that bad.”

Carys passes me a bottle, and I check the label before popping the top. I was hoping for morphine, but whatever this is will have to do.

“Where are you going to live now?” Lena slides an egg onto a plate and then does the same a second time.

“We should go over the list I put together at some point today.” Carys takes a slice of bacon and pulls it apart with her fingertips, inserting pieces into her mouth.

Lena piles the plates with bacon, eggs, and a potato mash thing she fried in the pan. She passes a plate to me and to Carys. Mine has twice the amount of food. Normally I’d have no trouble wolfing it down, but my time in and out of hospitals has meant I haven’t been doing anything normal.

Carys stands on the other side of the wide island, eating her food in slow, meticulous bites. Watching the fork go from her plate and slide into her mouth is torture. The drugs haven’t kicked in yet, and my body aches. The tightening in my pants isn’t helping.

“Do you have access to any of your money?” she says.

Her lips close around her thumb to catch a smear of egg yolk. Her tongue swirls, and I swallow. Right now, I want to fuck her on the kitchen counter while Lena watches. I’m shit at resisting temptation, and Carys is the shiny, juicy apple. Even when the fruit is poisoned at first bite, she’s impossible to resist.

“A bit.” I sip the coffee Lena placed in front of me to wash down my pills. “Probably not enough. It’ll depend on the country. I had lots of cash on hand at the house, and I took some to the warehouse with me. Figured if I came out of there alive, I’d at least have something to help me start over.”

Carys frowns. “You didn’t arrive in Switzerland with a bag.”

“Probably still in the warehouse, with the FBI, or with whoever whisked me out. Howdidyou get me out, anyway?”

“Paid off someone in the raid party.”

“FBI?”

“Who else would be in the raid?” She raises her eyebrows at me as the fork slides into her mouth again.

“Impressive.”

“I’ve got friends in all kinds of places.”

I smirk. “I bet you do.”

“Keep your mind out of the gutter, Finn.”

My gaze roams over her leisurely. “I hate that fucking shirt.”

“I’m making a statement.”

“Been made. Go change.”

“No.” Her amber eyes connect with mine, full of challenge. “What was it you said to me? Your voice means nothing in this house anymore.”

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