Page 39 of Oath
“It’s Bones.” Those two words summed everything up. The definition of the man, and oh, how he could irritate. At the same time, at no point when it had been just the two of us had I ever thought I was anything but safe with him.
Even when he was making me crazy, he saved my life.
“I get it,” AB said. “But he’s a tough son of a bitch. He’ll be fine.”
“How did they take him?” Because, every time I’d seen him in a fight or an “action” as they liked to call it, he was like the Terminator. He just didn’t stop. How hurt would he have to have been for them to take him captive?
“Don’t focus on that, Gracie.” There was a request in his voice even if the words were an order. “We’d just be speculating. Speculation has a place, but right now, we need hard facts only.”
I turned those words over in my head, then nodded slowly. “You need hard facts because speculating can go in wild directions and our imagination can run amok.”
“More or less,” Voodoo said over his shoulder and I twisted to find him glancing back at O’Rourke before he focused on me. “They had cleaners with them. Everything is gone. The bar. The location. Everything. Scrubbed like it didn’t exist.”
“How can they do that in a couple of hours?” That was insane.
“They had four,” Legend said and I curled my fingers into my palms, digging my nails in. “It took us time to make sure we had no tails before we headed back to you.”
They probably had to make sure that O’Rourke couldn’t be tracked either. I sighed. “So whatever clues might have been there are gone now?”
“There wouldn’t have been any,” Voodoo told me, his expression gentle. “I wanted confirmation of who or what we’re dealing with.”
“Do you know now?”
“Some,” he said, shifting to look forward. “We’re about an hour out from the new safe house. Can you give us time to secure it and O’Rourke, then we’ll do a full brief?”
He was asking, not telling. They were all worried. “Whatever you need.” Right now, I could do just about anything. A flicker of surprise crossed his face and I caught Legend shooting me a look but I just put a hand on Goblin’s head to pet him and soothe myself.
I could be difficult. I was aware. But I could also be a team player. Right now, that was what they needed me to be.
Ninety minutes later, we were in the new safe house with O’Rourke secure in an actual cell in the basement. I didn’t want to know how they had a house like this set up. Nope. Some things were probably better that I didn’t know.
AB showered while the guys brought his gear in, then I helped him with his thigh while Legend was in the shower. The limp was a lot more noticeable.
“Just cramps,” he said as he stretched the leg out on the sofa.
“Are you overdoing it?” I needed to get baselines on what would be overdoing it for him. Honestly, he never slowed down. Even when he was hurting, he kept going. Goblin passed out on the floor next to the sofa. Perching on the edge, I lifted the laptop off of him and set it aside so I could work my fingers into his thigh.
“Gracie…”
“Five minutes,” I told him. “Set a timer. You hurting yourself won’t help Bones and, based on what I’ve seen, he’d rather you took the time so you could move than potentially leave yourself hampered with both pain and limited mobility.”
As light as I kept my tone, I didn’t ease up on the pressure of the massage. The tension in his thigh, the rigid cording of the muscle and the way his jaw tightened told me he was in pain.
The damp blond of his hair settled in a wave over his forehead despite his attempts with finger combing. We locked gazes and I read all the stubborn in his blue eyes. Hopefully, he read the same in mine. I was not going to let him hurt himself if I could do something to help.
Blowing out a breath, AB reached for me and wrapped his hand around my nape. When he dragged me toward him, he was gentle but I was far from resisting. His lips parted even as our mouths crashed together. The kiss was heat and hunger, yes, and beneath it, something deeper thrummed.
A quiet vow nestled in the press of his mouth against mine, in the way his fingers tightened slightly, not possessive but certain. It wasn't just want—it was welcome. It was the kind of kiss that said,I see you. I'm not going anywhere.My pulse stuttered under the weight of it, all heat and tenderness braided with something that felt dangerously close to forever.
He eased up just enough for air, but his hand stayed at my nape, anchoring me there, our foreheads nearly touching. My breath came fast, shallow, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. Not when his eyes were that close, that open. He searched my face like he was memorizing something, like maybe he’d found something he hadn’t expected. Then, soft—so soft it almost undid me—he said, “Thank you for worrying about me.”
I didn’t know what to do with his gratitude, the raw sincerity in it. It landed somewhere deep, unsettled something that I wasn’t ready to name. So I went back to what I’d already given him, what I knew to be true.
“That’s what loving you means,” I whispered, the words barely catching on my breath.
At least to me.
I kissed him again. It was just a brush this time, a promise of my own tucked into the moment. When I eased back, I concentrated on massaging his thigh once more. The tension was still there, knotted and tight, and I pressed into it gently like I could take some of the pain from him if I just tried hard enough.
