Page 54 of Knight

“I know.” The words are delivered around a yawn. “Evangeline Marie Porter.” He checks his watch, and scowls. “But Glitch fits better.”

He lifts the tablet, tapping on the screen to bring it to life, and stares at it for a few minutes. His head dips forward slightly before he catches himself.

“When was the last time you actually slept? Before that chair, I mean.”

“I’m fine.” But the words lack their usual bite, undermined by the way he blinks several times to focus.

“You’ll miss something if you keep pushing.” I don’t know where this courage is coming from. Maybe it’s the late hour, or maybe watching him sleep made him seem more human. “Let me take the chair. You need proper rest.”

A sound that might be a laugh escapes him. “Right. Because I’m going to trust the woman who broke into my apartment and unleashed a virus on my entire system to keep watch while I sleep.” The words sound more like habit than anything else.

“You trusted me enough to fall asleep in that chair.”

“That wasn’t trust. That was a tactical error.” He yawns again. “One that won’t happen again.”

“Look, either you sleep for a few hours in an actual bed, or you crash right in the middle of something which could get you killed. Your choice.” I slide off the bed, moving toward him. “I’ll be right here, where you can see me.”

“If I’m asleep, I won’t be able to see you. That’s the point.”

I roll my eyes. His narrow. But exhaustion has stripped away some of his usual intensity. “Am I supposed to believe you won’t try to run the second I close my eyes?”

“Where would I go? You said it yourself—someone orchestrated all of this. Running won’t solve anything.” I reach him. “Just sleep. I promise I won’t smother you with a pillow.”

“That’s comforting.” But he stands. And then he catches me off guard, when his hand closes around my arm before I can sit. “Against the wall.”

“What?”

“If you think I’m sleeping with you anywhere but trapped between me and solid concrete, you’re delusional.” He checks his gun, then slides it under the pillow. “Move.”

I could argue.Shouldargue. But he’s right. Neither of us is going to truly trust the other. This might be the closest we get to it.

The bed feels smaller with both of us in it. I press myself against the wall, trying to maintain space between us, but his presence fills everything. The mattress dips under his weight, and I catch the scent of generic motel soap mixed with something distinctly …him.

“Try anything stupid,” he says into the darkness, “and you’ll find out just how light I sleep.”

The threat should scare me. Instead, I just sigh, wondering if he threatens everyone, or if it’s just his way of maintaining distance. Of pretending this forced intimacy isn’t affecting him in some way too.

“Just go to sleep. I’ll try to contain my homicidal urges until morning.”

A sound that might be another rusty laugh comes from his side of the bed. “Your sarcasm needs work, Glitch.”

I want to snap at him for using that stupid nickname again. I want to remind him that we’re not friends. That this isn’t anything except temporary survival. Instead, I close my eyes, and listen while his breathing evens out as exhaustion finally claims him.

What am I doing?

I’m sharing a bed with the man who held me captive, when I should be planning escape routes, or ways to overcome him.

Instead, I find myself drifting on the edge of sleep, aware that the man who terrified me for hours is now between me and whatever dangers might come through that door. In the morning, I’ll have to face the decision I’ve made. I’ll have to remember why I don’t trust him, and why I shouldn’t forget what he’s capable of. But right now, in this strange space between waking and sleeping, I let myself believe that we’re bothjust trying to survive whatever game his mentor is playing with our lives.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Knight

Years of trainingsnap my mind to full alertness the second my eyes open. Unfortunately, my body doesn’t follow. I’m tangled around Glitch, one arm curved over her waist, her back pressed against my chest. Somehow, during the night, we’ve shifted from our positions at opposite sides of the bed until there’s no space left between us.

The scent of the motel’s shampoo fills my nose. She’s warm against me, soft in ways that make my body respond before my brain can shut it down. Her breathing stays deep and even, undisturbed by my body’s reaction to her closeness.

I should move, put some distance between us before she wakes up and discovers how completely I’ve invaded her space. But extracting myself without waking her is going to require more coordination than I want to attempt while my body is enjoying her proximity way too much.

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