Page 57 of Bulletproof Love

I grab a third bottle from the top of the filthy refrigerator. “Yeah, he wouldn’t give me shit. Said we need to find Orlov.”

Damon shrugs. “We’ll have to see what we can get out of Orlova.”

He walks through the lower floor, pouring vodka onto pizza boxes, the couch, the dead man's body. I follow suit—pouring extra over the splintered wooden staircase. “I’m out,” I yell across the house. He tosses me his lighter, and I let it spark to life, watching as the staircase erupts, orange flames dancing up the splintered rails.

I make my way to the front door, where Damon waits admiring his handiwork. “Nice job,” I say as we exchange dark smiles. Heat presses against our backs as we leave, and I can’t resist murmuring, “Burn, baby, burn.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE

FALIN

We climbthe steps to the apartment as dawn begins to break. I’ve never been more exhausted in my life, and that includes the time I went on a three day long bender in Thailand.

Those girls, their faces and cries, will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I can sleep easy knowing they’re safe. Ray has them getting medical attention and then his contacts will transfer them to a safe house while they locate the families.

All except for one, who refused medical treatment. Mischa. I wanted to toss her ass out on the street, but Blake wouldn’t have it. How she can still have an ounce of care in her body for that woman is beyond me. So now instead of one extra person in the house, we’ll have two. At least it’s only temporary.

Kayla greets us with a look of relief. “How did it go?”

I muster a smile that probably looks more like a grimace. “We got four out. They’re safe.”

Her body sags and she swipes tears from her cheek. “Thank God.”

Blake hugs me goodnight before heading to her bedroom, where Damon waits. Leon settles on the couch next to Kayla, scooping the kittens into his lap and updating her about where they took the girls and sharing details from the night. When the bathroom door opens, my attention shifts. Jasper emerges wearing gym shorts and a white sleeveless undershirt. Even exhausted, he’s still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

My gaze trails over his muscled shoulders and down his tattooed arms. His undershirt clings to his damp chest, showing every dip and curve of his pec and ab muscles. And his thighs, holy fuck, they’re thick. The fabric from his shorts can barely contain him. My skin heats as I remember how his body felt between my legs.

His fingers work through his tangled hair as my gaze fixes on his face. A day’s worth of stubble lines his jaw, making him look extra rugged. I’d love to rub my cheek against it. Even with dark circles shadowing his eyes, those bright blue irises and thick black lashes still make my lungs squeeze.

They darken the moment he catches me staring. His lips turn up in a flirty smirk as he steps closer. “You okay, Trouble? Looking a bit flustered.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and raise a brow. Too tired to think of a witty comeback, I mutter, “I’m fine.”

Mischa picks that moment to emerge from Jasper and Leon’s bedroom. Her eyes brighten when she notices him, a small smile lighting her tired face. All at once, jealousy engulfs me, scorching my body in flames as she crosses her arms over her chest and moves toward Jasper.

“I hope you don’t mind me taking your bed. Your friend said I should,” she says. She tries to make her high-pitched voice sound sultry but the result sounds like the kittens’ wails when they’re hungry.

Jasper turns and offers her a small smile. “It’s no problem. You should get some rest. You’ve been through a lot.”

Leon and Kayla stop talking as we all watch Mischa run a finger down Jasper’s bicep. “Why don’t you join me? For old time’s sake.”

I push up from the couch and storm past them to the bathroom, cursing myself for being so obviously jealous. But hell, I can’t help it. I’m too tired to mask. Too exhausted to play games. If he wants to fuck Mischa, like he’s apparently already done, then he can go ahead. I won’t stop him. It doesn’t mean I want to sit and watch it unfold.

After using the bathroom, I clean up with the lukewarm water bottle Blake left behind, taking time to wipe and moisturize my face. As I step out, two realizations hit me. I’m supposed to sleep in Jasper’s bed tonight, and maintenance arrives in a few hours to fix the broken pipe in my room.

Either I take my friendship with Kayla to a new level and cuddle on the couch or I pack my shit and head to the nearest hotel. Honestly, that sounds amazing. A big fluffy bed, clean and quiet and all to myself. But I think of leaving Jasper here with Mischa and dig my heels in. As much as it’ll hurt, I need to know where that goes.

Maybe I’ll curl up on my damp mattress with a throw blanket. At the very least, I can sleep for an hour. Set on my decision, I head back to the main area of the apartment, freezing when I find Jasper, shirtless and sitting on the couch in his boxers, his arms casually resting along the top of the cushions and his legs wide. He looks me up and down and that warmth returns to my skin. “What are you doing out here?”

“Waiting to see if you want to be the big spoon or the little spoon,” he says with a smirk.

“But I thought?—”

He pats the couch cushion beside him. “Come here. Let’s get some sleep while we can.”

How can he be so casual about this? Did he just turn Mischa down… for me?

“Where will Kayla sleep?”

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