Page 16 of Chaos
"Not exactly." She drops onto the edge of my bed, and I track every movement. The way my shirt rides up slightly on her thighs. The defeated slump of her shoulders. "My grandmother has Alzheimer's. She's in a care facility that's...not great. But it's all I can afford." Her hands twist in her lap, and I want to cover them with mine. "She doesn't recognize me anymore, but I still need to visit at least three times a week. If I stop showingup regularly, the staff will think nobody's watching. They'll get sloppy with her care."
Fuck. This woman is killing me. Working two jobs, going to school, caring for a grandmother who doesn't even know her anymore.
"Your grandmother won't know if you miss one visit," I say, even though I already know she’s gonna argue, and fuck me if her sass doesn’t turn me on.
"It's not about her knowing." Her voice cracks, and the sound pierces straight through my chest. "It's about making sure they treat her right. The residents without family watching over them…they don't get the same level of care and attention. If the staff thinks no one's around to check on her..."
As her voice trails off, I cross to the bed, unable to stay away any longer. I sit beside her, the mattress dipping under my weight. Up close, I see the exhaustion and deep worry etched into her features.
"Where is this place?"
"Shady Pines Care Facility on Woodward." She looks up at me with those beautiful, pleading eyes. "Please, I have to go."
Every fiber of my being wants to give her what she wants. I want to lay the world at her feet. But I can't. Not when it means risking her life.
"No." I take her hand in mine, pleased when she doesn’t pull it away. "But I'll send Zeus."
She snorts—actually snorts. The sound is so unexpected, so fucking adorable, that I almost smile.
"That's funny?" My thumb traces circles on her palm.
"A little. I mean, Zeus? The scary guy with the tattoos who looks like he could snap someone in half with his pinky finger?" She shakes her head, and then she giggles. The sound is like fucking sunshine. "That might actually work. He'll certainly intimidate the staff enough to want to stay on his good side."
"Exactly." I watch her face light up. "Bet they'll give your grandmother the royal treatment once they get a good look at who's watching out for her."
It only takes about fifteen minutes for her to write down addresses and for me to issue orders to the prospects and Zeus. Neither seem enthusiastic about the chores, but they don’t complain.
"Thank you.” The tone of her voice is sincere, apologetic even. "I'm sorry for being difficult. I truly appreciate everything you're doing."
Difficult. She has no idea. I've dealt with rival clubs, federal agents, and now a psychotic cartel. This woman, with her stubborn streak and those pleading eyes, is a whole different level of challenging.
I reach down, unlace my boots, then position myself on the bed with my legs stretched out and my back up against the headboard. I pat the mattress next to me and, wonder of wonders, she doesn’t argue. She pauses for only a moment and then curls up next to me.
"I can handle difficult,” I assure her as I slide my arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. She fits perfectly, like she was made to be tucked against my side. When she leans into me, her body is soft and warm. She feels like…mine. Yeah, she feels like mine.
I press my nose to her hair, inhaling deeply. "You smell better."
She yawns. Her speech is slower and slightly slurred when she adds, “Thanks, but the bar wasn't very high."
My fingers trace lazy patterns on her arm, relishing the slight tremor that runs through her. My cock is rock hard, pressing painfully against my jeans. Having her this close, in nothing but my clothes, remembering her naked against me—I want to layher back on this bed and fuck her until she screams. And I plan to do that. Many, many times.
Just not right now. Not while she’s exhausted and traumatized.
"You need to sleep," I murmur against her temple, breathing in her clean scent.
"I don't think I can," she protests, even as I feel her body growing heavier against mine, her eyelids drooping.
"Try." I continue rubbing slow circles, hoping to soothe her, comfort her, make her feel safe. "I'll be right here."
She sighs, the sound content, and leans more of her weight against me. "Just for a little while," she whispers, her head rolling to my chest.
I should call Fury. Should check on Biggy. Should start planning our retaliation against the cartel.
But I don't move. Don't even reach for my phone.
Because right now, holding my ol’ lady while she sleeps is the most important thing I have to do.
As her breathing evens out, I make her a promise, a vow.
