Page 33 of Killer of Mine


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“The doctors are doing a tox screen,” Eli says, an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to catch me in a lie.

I meet his cold eyes. “Then I’ll have proof I’m telling the truth.”

“Who was following you?” River asks, breaking up mine and Eli’s staring contest.

An image of the figure looming over me flashes through my mind. “I don’t know,” I say, which is technically true. My vision was too blurry to know for sure.

River’s face gives nothing away, but I feel like he knows I’m withholding the truth.

Oz leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. He nods at the tracker River’s still holding. “That thing probably saved your life. We found you unconscious on the road. If whoever was following you had managed to get the tracker off, they would have taken you with them.”

My fingers grip the sheets. I know he’s right. It’s a cruel irony that the very thing that’s taking away my freedom is what kept me alive.

“It’s going back on,” River says.

“I kind of figured.”

He gets up and walks round to the end of the bed. He pulls the blanket out from over my feet and trails his fingers over the bandage on my right ankle before switching to my left.

I hold my breath as he lifts my leg up and clicks the tracker shut around my good ankle. His touch sends tingles running through my body. He holds my foot a moment longer than necessary before placing it gently back down.

I wet my lips.

River rests his hands against the plastic rail at the end of the hospital bed. “Give us a moment.”

Eli and Oz share a look before leaving the room.

Jude squeezes my hand then gets up and follows them out, leaving me alone with River.

“Wanted me all to yourself, did you?” It’s probably not the best time for jokes but I thought it might lighten the mood.

River moves his hand back to my good ankle and drags his thumb down the bare sole of my foot.

My core clenches.

“Oh, I’m not opposed to sharing,” he says, “so long as I’m the one in charge.”

I go still. I was not expecting him to play along. Now I have images of all four of them with their hands on me. My body tied up on the bed. River ordering Jude to fuck me harder.

He keeps running his thumb up and down my foot and it’s taking everything in me not to squirm. Or beg him to touch me somewhere else.

“I know you’re lying to me, Freya.” His words are dark, threaded with warning.

My breathing shallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

River’s hand stops moving. He pulls it away from my body and I almost whimper at the loss of his touch. Does this count as a form of torture?

He slips his hand into his pocket and takes out a piece of paper. It’s not till he reads the note that my blood runs cold and my arousal dies.

“Bad things happen when you break promises.”

I push myself further up on the bed, ignoring the throbbing in my side. “Where did you get that?” I glance around the room, only now seeing my clothes folded over the back of Oz’s chair. “You went through my stuff?” I accuse. “That’s private.”

River works his jaw and walks back round to the side of my bed. He places his hands on the blankets either side of my legs, trapping me, and leans over till his face is inches from mine. “You’re a criminal, Freya, and you’re lying to me. From this point on, you have no such thing as privacy.”

I grit my teeth and breath through my nose, too angry to say any of the things I’m thinking. “I have an immunity agreement.”

“One that requires you to tell the truth.” River lifts a hand and I flinch but all he does is tuck one of my curls back behind my ear. His face softens. “You could have died tonight. Talk to me. Tell me what is going on. Let me help.”