That touch made me safe. I swayed in his arms, and he picked me up before I had a chance to fall. I looked up at him, finally aware how much it hurt to smile, how it pulled at my split lip.
“Didn’t really know where else to go. Guess you win after all.”
Before he had a chance to ask more questions, I let my head fall forward against his shoulder and gave myself over to the darkness that had been eating away at the edge of my vision since Hudson had landed that first blow. Otto’s arms around me meant it was safe to close my eyes… safe to just… exist.
Chapter 18
Otto
Myvisionturnedthesame red as the blood on London’s lips as he collapsed into my arms. I should never have let him out of my sight.
I should never have let him goanywherealone.
I was never going to let him leave me again.
Either the person who’d tried to hit us with the car had found him, or…
“Was this the asshole you live with?”
His brows snapped together in instant reaction to my question, giving me an answer before he looked away to try to hide it. Something in me twisted, dark and furious, that he was trying to protect him… but…
London wasn’t a killer, and he probably knew me well enough from instinct alone to realize that I wouldn’t hesitate.
“Come on,” I murmured. I’d worry about the rest of it once I got him settled and looked him over. He was favoring his ribs, and there was blood in his pretty blond hair. I really was going to kill the asshole who did this to him as soon as I had the chance. “Let’s get you on the bed, little rabbit.”
For the first time, I was using the name because he was something soft, something delicate I wanted to wrap my arms around and protect.
I wasn’t sure it would end well, but I wasn’t willing to let him go… and London seemed grateful to let me carry him to the bed I’d been using. He only hesitated when he glanced down at the rumpled blankets.
“What’s wrong?” Surely it wasn’t because he could tell I’d been sleeping there. He came here after all, so at least some small part of him—
“I don’t want to get blood on your sheets. I…” His fingers clenched on my shirt as I settled him down on the mattress.
“Blood washes out. It’s fine.” He made a face like he wanted to argue with me, but it seemed like he didn’t have it in him. London let me carefully position him on the bed, and his gaze only slightly widened when I pulled out a knife. I rolled my eyes. “I know I’m your big bad wolf, but I promise you’re safe with me.”
For now.
I needed to add on the wordsfor now… but I had a feeling we both knew I was full of shit.
“You’ve been threatening me since the moment we met.” He spoke softly, but he didn’t pull away when I slid the knife beneath his shirt and carefully cut through the fabric so he didn’t have to raise his arms. The anger in my chest welled again when I saw the bruises, dark and ugly, already forming on his soft skin. My hand was careful when I reached out, and he only slightly winced when I started feeling along his ribcage to make sure nothing was broken.
“Yeah, maybe.” I kept my voice conversational while I silently took stock of every cut, every mottled, dark spot that was probably a punch or kick. When I got a hold of the man who’d done this, I was going to pay him back tenfold, so I needed toremember each and every mark. “But somewhere between the first time I kissed you and you getting on your knees for me in your apartment, I realized you were probably right when you called me a liar.”
At least he didn’t seem so injured that the blood couldn’t rush straight to his cheeks. I followed the flare of color splotching his chest, flaming across his face. He looked away from me and muttered something under his breath.
“What was that?” My touch shifted to the other side of his body, still checking carefully for any injury that I didn’t know how to heal.
“You weren’t complaining when it happened.” He managed to choke the words out this time, and it startled a laugh from me. I think we were both surprised at how bitter it sounded, the twisted way it came out of my chest. How fucked were we both that the sound of my laugh wasn’t anything remotely natural? The sound made my fingers spasm, and the motion made him wince.
Fuck.
Even while I was being this delicate with him, the instincts of my body—the instincts of the psychopathic mind I was in—wantedto hurt him. He was here and vulnerable. I had him in a place where I could do whatever I wanted, however I wanted… and…
I sat down on the bed instead, and carefully skimmed my fingers across the top of his pants. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
London stared at me for the span of a breath, a few beats of my heart, like he could tell there was something lurking just beneath the glassy facade of my surface. After a second, though, he shook his head.
“No. I don’t think so. I…” He frowned. “I fought back. I’ve never fought back before.”
