Page 31 of Beautifully Wounded

Fucking hell. What the fuck, Cam?

“You gonna stay in there?”

“Yes,” she mutters and my lips spread wide in a grin.

“What if I need to take a dump? I highly recommend you clear out for that.”

“Oh, my god!” she squeals, leaping up and scurrying from the bath and back out into the main room.

My chuckle follows her as I do, and I watch her hurry back to the bed where she sits on top of the blankets but clutches her pillow to her stomach over the top of my hoodie she’s still wearing. She must be getting hot by now.

“You okay? Hungry?”

She shakes her head. “I feel a bit off.”

“Eating might help. I’ll send JD to grab us something,” I mutter, moving to my phone and snatching it off the charger.

As I type out a message to my best mate, I keep my eyes on Abbey, noticing that she looks a little pale.

“You drink coffee?” Iask, and when she shakes her head, I send the message to JD and pocket my phone. “You got Rona?” I ask, referring to this fucking virus that’s sweeping the world.

“I hope not.” She frowns, keeping her gaze cast to her crossed legs.

I fucking hope not, too. So far, I’ve managed to dodge it. I can’t afford to get sick. Not in my role in the club.

“So how much of my conversation with Smitty did you overhear?” I ask, hoping the change of subject will take her mind off the possibility that she’s picked up the virus.

“All of it,” she admits, her doe eyes darting up to mine as if she’s trying to gauge my reaction.

I smirk. “You have questions, don’t you?”

“So many.”

Her response has me throwing my head back, laughing, and I catch sight of a small smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

Fuck. I think that’s the first time she’s smiled. I want to see more of it.

“I’ll let you ask three questions for now.”

She rolls her eyes, but when I don’t say anything, she sighs.

“Who’s Griffin Marx?”

Moving to the bed, I sit on the end, in front of her but far enough away that it’s not too close to make her uncomfortable.

“He’s the new player in the Timber Valley district,” I answer honestly.

“New player?” She frowns, her fingers fidgeting together in her lap, only just peeking out from the sleeve of my hoodie she’s still wearing.

“Yeah. Organised crime. Drugs. Strippers. Whores. He’s a new player in Timber Valley’s crime scene.”

“Oh.”

“Next question.” I urge and she thinks for a moment, her eyes travelling over my beard before her gaze meets mine.

“Is candy drugs?”

She really did hear everything.

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