Page 7 of ILY
I move toward the door, my hand landing on the knob, ready to flee into the night, when I hear a knock. Two soft ones and a harder one.
SilentEcho’s code.
My heartbeat is in my throat as I stare at the door.
The handle twists, and it’s pushed open, forcing me back. I attempt to make my way back toward the sketchy-looking bed, but my nerves, coupled with my hangover, have my legs twisting oddly, and I land on my ass instead.
My breath leaves me in a heave as I stare up at the man looming over me.
This has to be SilentEcho, the person who is going to sell me the TNT.
The one who will help me be rid of Michael once and for all.
“Leaf?” he rasps, and I wince, realizing I used my actual name online. Fucking hell. I suck at this.
“Maybe,” I squeak. “Maybe not.”
The man closes the door behind him and stands there, a sexy presence in this seedy room.
Good fuck. My eyes roam up his muscular legs, his narrow waist, and broad shoulders. His hair is slightly longer, curling around his ears, and he has a faint scar along the left side of his mouth.
He’s so damn hot. Like my pants are too tight hot. Like it’s been far too long kind of hot.
“You’re at the coordinates I sent, so you must be him.” I hear it then, the slight accent he has when he speaks.
Well, hell. He most likely is hard of hearing. I’ve worked too long in this community not to notice it.
“Fine. I am. You caught me. It’s me.”
I push myself to my feet, my hands moving as I speak. It’s a habit. When I think someone may not be able to hear me, I can’t help but do this.
His eyes flick down to my hands and then to my face.
“You know sign?”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
I’m giving far too much away. First, my name, and now the fact that I know ASL. I’m such a loser. Michael must think so too. It’s why he doesn’t stop mocking me at all hours of the day.
The man wets his lips and runs a hand through his hair. “Right. That doesn’t matter. I have the product in the car.”
“Fine. Great. Amazing.” I swallow roughly and then stammer, my fingers flustered as well. “You’re not the cops, right? Like, I don’t wanna go to jail or anything.”
He peers at me, cocking his head. “No. Are you?”
I shake my head so hard that I fall slightly to the right, knocking into the stand with the broken TV. It wobbles precariously before falling right on my foot.
I howl as pain shoots up through my leg and into my dick. How my foot is connected to my dick, only god knows, but I swear my entire lower half is going to fall off. It’s no less than I deserve, I think. It really is.
“Alright, enough,enough.” He grabs onto my waist and picks me up, settling me on the edge of the musty mattress. “Stop making that sound. It’s hurting my ears. You sound like a donkey.” I gasp, holding back the baying I know I was making. “Come on. Let me take a look.”
I bite my lip, a whimper leaving my lips as he pulls my shoe off, his fingers touching my bare foot.
“Just cut it off. It hurts too much.”
I hear a muffled laugh, and my lips turn down.
“Don’t mock me. I’m serious. My entire lower half is numb. I think I may have suffered some kind of paralysis.”
