Page 18 of Suck This

He didn’t say anything.

Really worried now—and that was saying something because I’d thought about his well-being since they’d stuffed him, bleeding and enraged, into a cop car—I dashed into the room and leaned over the very still form.

“Hey.” I brushed my hand against Constantine’s chest.

He wasn’t breathing!

Moving my hand to his face, I was about to yell out for help when a strong, muscular hand clamped on to my wrist and pulled me forward.

“Oh!” I gasped. “What…”

“You shouldn’t be in here. I’m hungry, and you smell fantastic,” he said, dropping my hand almost as quickly as he’d picked it up.

I stepped away, but only a few inches, and placed my hand on my heart.

“You scared the shit out of me,” I breathed out shakily, heart in my throat.

He grinned, then closed his eyes once again.

“And you really shouldn’t be opening a cell where a vampire—no matter if you think he’s your friend or not—is in a cage. We don’t take being caged kindly. We’ve experienced more hell than y’all can ever conceive. Yet we’re put in here like dogs when we’ve done nothing wrong.”

I frowned, wondering what ‘hell’ he’d been put through, but chose not to say anything. Had he wanted me to know, he would’ve explained.

He seemed like the type of man to let me know exactly what was on his mind.

“Duly noted.” I took a seat beside him, causing him to either move his legs or have them sat on.

He didn’t move his legs.

Instead my ass fell in between his calves, and I found myself quite liking the new position.

I was the type of person that liked to feel secure. In my bed at home, I had nine pillows. Two under my head, two on each side. One at my feet, and one on top of my clock, so I didn’t see any glowing numbers.

Yes, I know I could’ve used a towel or something to block the numbers, but one never knows when one will need an extra pillow.

Then there was the huge ass blanket I slept under each night.

When I sat down, my feet automatically came up to rest on the seat—whether we were at dinner, a club, or a freakin’ crime scene. It was a compulsion to never have my feet on the ground, and I’d been doing it since I could remember. I wasn’t about to change, which was why I pulled my feet up, wiggled around, and snuck my feet up under his calf.

“Comfortable?” he drawled, his voice filled with humor.

His amusement at my move had me fighting a smile.

“I would’ve thought you’d move,” I muttered under my breath. Then louder said, “Thank you for saving me tonight.”

“You’re welcome.”

I bit my lip, wondering if he would tell me why he was there, but he didn’t say anything.

So, I chose to continue talking, hoping he’d offer that information up freely.

I knew that he didn’t live on that side of the city. Hell, nobody lived on that side of the city unless they were looking for trouble or just plain couldn’t afford it.

I was an anomaly. I could afford to move, I just hated change.

My brothers, of course, hated me being over there, and would likely use this against me to force me to make the decision.

Why I was so reluctant to move was beyond me. I’d looked at other places, but something inside of me had balked at the idea of moving. Therefore, I’d stayed, and look at where it nearly got me.

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