Page 169 of Wicked Proposal
Fucking hell.Just what we needed. Our enemies are shipping off to greener pastures, and somehow, they’re still quicker and more efficient than us.
“Look harder,” I bark. “Or else I’ll kick you all to the streets and hire a bunch of nurses to replace you.”
Far from cowering at my threats, Maksim laughs. “Heard that, boys? Grease your elbows. It’s gonna be an all-nighter.”
“Keep me posted.”
“Aye aye, Captain.”
By the time I shove my phone back in my pocket, Mia has scooted a little further down the bed. Embarrassment still colors her face.
I find myself grateful for the distance. It gives me time to get my bearings, get my riotous body back under control.
“I should go,” Mia says, rising all of a sudden. “I’m already late as it is, and Eli?—”
“He needs you.”
I stand up with her, show her to the door. Even as every instinct is screaming at me to keep her here.With me.
I could send for Eli. I could make up a room for each of them. I could build us a house, bigger and better and safer than any fortress. I could?—
But you can’t. Not in this life.
Right. I’ve already made my choice. No point putting it off. Better to rip off the Band-Aid here and now.
Mia’s blue eyes find mine. She looks uncertain. Like she’s tiptoeing on the edge of a cliff. “So, you’ll be okay on your own? Both of you?”
“Yes.”
“I can stay if you?—”
“There’s no need.”This is it,I tell myself. My chance to cut her loose. “Mia, our contract?—”
“I was suspended,” she says out all of a sudden. “From the hospital.”
I blink. “Suspended?”
“Brad’s little plan,” she says. “He fed the admin some lies about what happened when he came in. He’s a big donor, so…”
Rage fills my veins. “He came to hurt you again.”
I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him for real.
Suddenly, I don’t care about my revenge anymore—all I want is a different pound of flesh.
Mia seems to read it on my face. “He couldn’t,” she whispers, putting her arm on mine. “Not this time. Because I had you.”
It’s a knife right between the ribs. “Mia…”
“Our contract, I mean.” She’s stumbling on every word, as nervous as I’ve ever seen her. Like she can feel me stepping back, but has no intention of letting me. Every time I try to push her away, she only pulls harder. Without an agenda, without hidden motives. “Your advance—it saved my life. Literally. So… thank you.”
Tell her,my conscience screams at me.Tell her the truth. All of it.
But the words don’t come.
“You were saying…?” Mia asks. “About the contract?”
“Right.” I swallow the lump of cement in my throat. “I’ll need you for an event. Tomorrow. I realize it’s short notice.”
