“Thank you, ma puce.” The terrible tension in his face and body eased a fraction. “Down now. Safer.”
When she took a cautious step toward him, he didn’t ward her off again. Instead, he muttered instructions, directing her supportive hold around his hips as his less-injured arm settled heavily over her shoulders. He leaned much of his weight on her, trusting her to keep them both steady while they moved down the hall toward the discreetly hidden elevator.
Once he told her the trick, the door opened. She haltingly hauled them both within the tight confines of the lavish cab, trying to be as gentle with him as possible. Some of her burden eased as he sagged against the wall, and she exhaled quietly in relief.
The entrance slid shut. The long descent began.
“Strip me.” When she stared up at him in shock, mouth dropping open, he actually rolled his eyes. “Check for bite marks.”
She’d been hoping to delay that task as long as possible. Depending on what she saw, she might be forced to act on her promise, and she’d do almost anything to avoid that. Anything except letting him preemptively kill himself on her behalf. Which the asshole would actually do if she didn’t inspect him for bites, so…
Godsdammit.
With his limited help and the judicious use of a knife—getting both arms out of his sleeves when he had one hand wrapped around his neck wound required a few strategic cuts—she managed to bare his upper body. But it was impossible to tell whether he’d been bitten under all that blood.
“I won’t know until I clean you off some.” Locating one of his few patches of intact flesh, she stroked his inner forearm soothingly, the pressure of her fingertips featherlight. “I’ll do that when we arrive. No point in taking off anything else before then.”
Legitimate excuses for avoiding potential murder and heartbreak were thebestexcuses.
He side-eyed her a bit. But after a glance down at his chest, which was simultaneously crusted with old blood and wet with fresh blood, he silently conceded the point. Carefully angling himself lower, his breath hitching in pain, he kissed the top of her head. Which only made her want to cry again. She gave his waist the gentlest possible squeeze in response, and his soft sigh ruffled her hair.
After another few seconds of their descent, her fingers began to twitch with impatience. Even though she didn’t want to proceed with her inspection, shedidwant to treat and bind his wounds, and she couldn’t do that until they actuallyreached their destination.
“Oh my gods and goddesses,” she said when she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Is this fancy-ass elevator as old as you are? Because the ride may be smooth, but the speed isgeriatric.”
She didn’t expect a response to her complaint. Based on his wheezing inhalations, she figured he should conserve hisremaining strength for the last bit of their journey. Besides, he had to know she was only taunting him to distract them both from his pain, her anxiety, and whatever horrors might lie ahead.
To her surprise, however, he did speak. Not about the elevator or even his undisclosed age. About her. Aboutthem.
“I wanted…” When he shifted, he gasped a little. “I wanted to be alone. Three years ago. I came…to Zone A…to be alone. Was going to buy a house down the road. Far away from neighbors.” His nose nudged her temple. “I saw you walking. Scouting, holding your…cleaver. You smiled. Waved at…at a total stranger.”
Upon ransacking her memory, she found…nothing. She hadn’t marked that moment in her mind. Didn’t recall the first time she’d ever encountered Max.
Exhaling deeply, she tried to set aside her bitter regret. “I don’t remember. I’m so sorry.”
“You wouldn’t.” He nuzzled into her hair, the gesture playful and affectionate. “It was…automatic. Just who you are.”
Her heart swelled, even as it twisted in her chest. “Honey, you should save your—”
“You…wore stained coveralls and boots. Hadn’t brushed your hair…in days, looked like. Tangled. Always tangled. But such a shiny brown. Such a…pretty face. Such a pretty woman. So…soft everywhere. Doe eyes, big and bright.” He raised his head then. His gaze locked on hers, his own eyes as warm and unguarded as she’d ever seen them. “Smile like the sun.”
She was frozen in place. Speechless. Because of his words and the emotion in them. Because of his expression as he spoke.
The elevator door opened, and he didn’t budge. “Moved nextdoor. You were so…patient. Kind. Even with…fuckingChad. Brought brownies. Delicious. First power outage, you gave me…candles. Didn’t know I…had a generator.”
“Max.” As hungry as she was for his memories, his revelations, she needed to treat his wounds. “We should—”
“Two nights ago…didn’t offer shelter…out of obligation. Wanted…neededyou safe. If you got hurt…couldn’t stand it.” His voice grew louder, steadier, as he forced whatever strength he had left into his words. “Remember that. No matter what happens next. Whatever you have to do, ma puce.”
When she hiccupped, blinded by tears, he dropped his forehead to hers.
“No guilt, sweet Edie. I…” He listed to the side, and suddenly she was bearing as much of his weight as she could handle. “I’d die…grateful. Knowing…you were safe. Seeing your face. I’d see it even with…eyes closed.”
Before she could muster a response other than continued weeping, he used her support to take one halting step out of the elevator. Two.
Then he collapsed on the floor of the hidden library, cried out in pain, and fainted.
***
