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"Was there?" she asked, a strange squeaky sound slipping into her voice, but I figured she was just thinking about the victims, about their families. That heart of hers, it was always too big, always too breakable.
"Yeah. Down by the convenience store."
"Oh, that's awful," she said, the squeak gone, replaced with something colder, more closed off. Probably because I was the last person in the world she wanted to see right about then.
"The news said there was a woman kidnapped," I explained, not wanting her to think I was completely out of my fucking mind. "Blonde. Pretty. Wearing scrubs."
"That's awful. She must have been terrified," she added, face twisting a bit.
"Yeah, and when we heard, we all just worried that maybe it was you."
"I'm right here," she said, waving a hand down at her body. "Un-kidnapped." There was a strange edge to that even stranger turn of phrase, but I was too relieved to try to decipher it.
"Thank God," I said because I couldn't muster the energy to be a dick right then, not with the wave of relief working its way through my body.
"You could have..." she started before something behind me caught her attention, something that made her entire body go ramrod straight as her eyes widened, and went panicked.
"What's the mat—" I started, moving to turn, only to have her hand shoot out, fingers grabbing my chin, drawing it back.
Then, and I couldn't make this shit up if I tried, roughly, almost sloppily, sealing her lips to mine.
Chapter Twelve
Andi
I felt like I was trudging through molasses as I moved through the office, checking out the schedule, greeting the staff, dodging questions about how tired I looked.
And I was tired. Right down to my bones. It made my thoughts slow and my temper shorter.
I had wicked bruises on my arm and across my stomach that ached when I moved or accidentally brushed over them.
On top of all of that, I couldn't keep my mind from flashing with awful images. Of the night before. Of what could happen if I ever spoke of the night before to anyone.
It was all just too much. It was way too much.
Ten minutes before the first client, I decided to get some fresh air to clear my head, to try to chase away the lingering jittery fear still gripping my system.
I'd barely been able to suck in a steadying breath when I'd heard him yelling my name, running toward me.
Niro.
There was a split second of joy.
Before I remembered.
The threat.
The image of him with pieces of him missing.
Just as the words about the shooting were coming out of his mouth, with the concern for me in his voice that I had missed so much, a sleek black car slid down the street alongside the parking lot, pulling to a stop.
Nothing suspicious.
Until he climbed out in all black with matching sunglasses but I could feel his gaze on me. And on Niro.
I hadn't been paranoid about my suspicions over being followed.
And it did not look good that Niro had come running, was standing here with me. Like I'd called him. Like I'd told him. Like he was rushing to my rescue. Like he was going to start problems for them for what they'd done.
Then Niro's keen gaze must have read the panic on my face that I felt swirling through my body because he started to turn.
I just... panicked.
I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention back to me.
I grabbed him.
And I kissed him.
It wasn't meant to be a real kiss.
I just needed a distraction.
I needed him not to look over his shoulder.
His lips were a firm line under mine for one long, surprised moment. His body was as tense as mine felt.
But then, suddenly, that tension snapped.
Niro's hand went around the back of my neck, holding me to him as his lips parted, pressed the kiss deeper. His other hand went around my lower back, pulling me up, holding me tightly against his body.
As for my body, well, it had a mind of its own.
I should have been watching the leader of the gang from the night before. I should have been making sure he wasn't reaching for a gun, wasn't approaching, wasn't going to slowly torture and murder us both.
But my eyelids stayed stubbornly closed as my arms moved, wrapping around the back of his neck, crushing my chest to his as his tongue traced the seam of my lips, seeking entrance. A low, sighing sound escaped me as it did, toying with mine.
This was the kiss I had expected from Niro.
Hungry, yet sweet, almost careful, taking his time, giving me the soft side he seemed to reserve only for me.
My fingers slipped upward, sinking into his short, soft hair, holding on as the kiss pressed deeper still, making my heartbeat flutter, making a painful pressure start on my lower stomach.
