Page 142 of Desperate Actions

Her lips tremble, and she gives a jerky nod.

“Good.”

Another tear slips down my cheek, and she wipes it away, sniffling.

“Take care of him, okay?”

I nod. “I’ll try. For however long he lets me, I’ll try.”

Her brows furrow at that last part, but before she can say anything, the sound of the side door closing makes us both freeze.

A presence looms in the entryway to the kitchen.

When we turn, Sammy is standing there.

Head tilted.

Expression unreadable.

His sharp, penetrating gaze sweeps over the two of us—two blubbering messes wrapped in each other’s arms.

His voice, low and edged with something quiet and dangerous, breaks the silence.

“You two alright?”

Andrea and I jump.

Hard.

“Jesus, Sammy!” Andrea yells, pressing a hand to her heart. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He smirks. Unbothered. Cool as ever.

Andrea huffs, striding toward him to kiss his cheek before grabbing her purse.

“Thanks for having us over, Aella. I had the best time.”

Sammy’s still looking at me when he asks, “You need me to call a driver for you?”

His voice is even.

Too even.

Like he maybe knows something just happened.

Like he maybe heard something he wasn’t meant to.

Andrea shakes her head.

“I’m good. G’night, you two.”

The moment the door closes behind her, silence stretches between us.

Sammy doesn’t move.

Doesn’t blink.

His gaze is locked on mine.

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