Page 90 of Lethal Vengeance
Kicking off my shoes, I immediately climb into bed. It feels amazing. When was the last time I slept in one? Feels like years.
Raider eyes the hoodie I’m wearing. “Aren’t you going to get hot in that thing?”
All I feel is cold. “It feels good.”
A possessive glint enters his eye. “You look good wearing my clothes.” He slides off his jeans, leaving only his boxer briefs. Black, of course.
The bed dips behind me as Cruz slides in and curves his body around mine. Heat radiates from him to me, and I sigh. The cold surrounding me begins to melt.
Raider cuts the lights and slides into bed, facing me. The curtains are partially open, and there’s enough light coming in through the window for me to see him staring at me.
“Close your eyes,” he murmurs. “We’ve got you.” His lips brush mine a few times with a tenderness that makes me want to cry.
Knowing he won’t sleep if I’m still awake, I close my eyes. The whispers immediately start up, but I count to drown them out. Four thousand. Three thousand and ninety-nine. Three thousand and ninety-eight. Three thousand and ninety-seven. When sleep tries to claim me, I stop counting and open my eyes.
Raider’s steady breathing tells me he’s out. Unable to help myself, I shift my gaze to his chest. His upper body makes my breath catch. Broad and well-defined, my hands tingle in memory of how hard his muscles felt beneath them. I lick my suddenly dry lips. He’s so incredibly good-looking, but I sort of forget about it when we’re together. I’m too caught up in him and what he’s saying or doing to think about it.
Here in the quiet hotel room, I look my fill. The tattoos I’m curious to know more about are easily visible in the dim light. There’s an elaborate cross with beads trailing off… a rosary. Camila’s name and a flower. It doesn’t look like a rose, but it’s similar. It’s hard to tell without more light. Both are interwoven with vines.
There’s another female name. Maybe his mother or a past love?
My eyes trace an unusual, but very interesting, design on his left pec. Three circles intertwined, a number in each, surround a jaguar wearing a crown. The design is stylized and hard to see with other tattoos overlapping it, but it’s clear the symbols go together.
I’ll have to ask him about it. Warm for the first time today, I struggle to stay awake, but my body finally gives up and I drift to sleep.
“Thanks, Rob,” I say warmly to the man standing by the car. “I appreciate it.” My smile feels like a grimace, but it’s the best I can do right now.
“I’ve got one at home myself. Just as stubborn,” he replies with a shake of his head. “Take it easy.”
“Let’s go, Sophia,” I order, furious at her behavior. “What have I told you about drinking and driving? I’ve been your age. I know you’re going to drink, but driving endangers others, not just yourself. How do you think Papa would feel to lose you, too?”
Red creeps over her face. She flashes a strained smile at her friends. “I’m so sorry.” They look in disbelief as she gets up and walks away.
She stomps toward me. “I hate you,” she whispers furiously. “You ruin everything.” She looks back at her friends, but they’re flashing her dirty looks and whispering amongst themselves. “Why couldn’t you just let me go to jail?”
“Because Papa can’t afford it, and neither can you, not if you want to go to Austin and the University of Texas in the fall. You’re lucky I’m able to get you out of this. Now, let’s go.”
“Lucky,” she snorts. “I can’t wait to go to university where you won’t be able to watch my every move. I’ll be able to make my own decisions without you around to question everything. You’re not my mother, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you!”
With a jolt,I wake. Her screaming voice reverberating in my head. At the time, I’d dismissed her comments, but maybe there was more to it than I realized. Things were better when she went to school. I’d tried to give her space and not ask her about her grades too much.
My only rule was our lunch date every two weeks. And I’d even let that slide a few times if she was busy or cited schoolwork, which happened a lot before she was kidnapped. When she disappeared, I kicked myself repeatedly for not insisting she meet me for lunch.
She knew I was looking for her. Distraught. I’d been on the news, asking for everyone’s help. Was she really too scared of me to come forward?
If she had returned after a month, I would have been furious, but so very, very thankful. Eleven months later would have been… a miracle… and tough. But I have to believe we’d have gotten through it. She was family.
40
QUINN
Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize Raider was awake until his finger traces the line between my brows.
“Good morning, mon petit oiseau,” he murmurs. His tone is light, but his eyes are sharp. “What has you frowning so much?”
I stare at him, unable to say the words. The fear that I might have played a part in her death… “Your tattoo. I’ve been trying to figure out the meaning of it.” My finger reaches out to trace the individual symbols and numbers. “At first, they look random and separate, but the way they’ve been drawn, the individual lines curling into each other… It’s one tattoo, isn’t it?”
Surprised, he tenses. “You can see that?”
