“Fantastic. Should we just stay?” Her joke falls flat.
“You’ll be alright. Tom just won’t let you leave the house ever again. I’ll come break you out once in a while for a small fee.”
“A small fee?” she chortles.
“London is expensive. I ain’t working for free.”
“Naturally.”
“What? I’m entrepreneurial.”
Seeing her smile makes me feel light inside. I want her to keep laughing. To forget how incredibly fucked up this all is, even if just for a moment. Maybe I can do that for her.
“I’m a bit tight on funds right now,” Ember adds. “But I make a mean spaghetti bolognaise, if I can bribe you with food.”
Propping a hand beneath my head, I peer over at her. “What makes you think that would work?”
“The rate at which you just inhaled the gummy bears I was saving for later.”
A full belly laugh rips out of me. “Busted.”
Her playful grin is downright intoxicating. The movement lights up her face, offering a taste of what her happiness would look like. Yep. I’m definitely making her smile more.
Cracking a yawn, Ember shifts in the armchair. “When are we leaving?”
“First thing in the morning. Things will be pretty intense once we land. You should get some more sleep while you can.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“You’re barely holding your eyes open,” I point out.
Her bottom lip releases from between her teeth. “Every time I shut my eyes, I imagine Gael’s men breaking down that door and tossing me back in a cage. Only, I’ll never be allowed out again.”
Watching her wince when she shifts her hips, I roll onto my side then pat the mattress. Warner would kill me if he saw this, but screw it. Ember shouldn’t be left alone.
She needs to be looked after. I’m not the person to be doing it, though. The only difference between me and the men who took her are that my crimes were sanctioned by law.
I’m no less diabolical.
But for now, I can pretend. For her.
“Come lay down,” I invite.
“Seriously, I’m okay.”
“Give it up, Ember. You’re safe. No one’s gonna throw you in any cages while I’m here. Not if they want to keep their limbs attached.”
“How do I know I can trust you?” she asks plainly.
“You don’t. But Warner does. Do you think his trust is earned easily after all he’s been through?”
“I guess not.” Ember eyes the bed with interest. “Promise to keep your hands to yourself?”
“Pinkie swear. I’ll be a good little bodyguard.”
Drawing in a loud inhale, she raises herself from the armchair to hobble towards me. That damned oversized tee should be illegal. It keeps riding up and flashing her tempting, porcelain thighs.
I hold my breath as she lowers herself onto the bed, leaving a few inches between us. The lemony scent of motel shampoo wafts over me, mingled with something delicately floral and entirely her.
