“No.” Yara pushes herself back up to a seated position. A beat later, she gathers her legs beneath her and starts to stand. “I don’t want to be lying here when the police come in.” Her gaze slides to Kellogg, who’s flopping around on the floor, smearing blood all over it.
More quietly, she adds, “I don’t want him to know.”
Rather than fight her on it, I loop my arm around her waist, supporting her weight. “Want him to know what?” I ask just as quietly.
Her green-gold eyes meet mine. “How much it hurts.”
A giant fist punches into my chest.
Hugging Yara close, I press my lips to the top of her head. Her hair still smells of vanilla, and it’s softer than silk. When she sags against me, resting her head heavily on my shoulder, protectiveness engulfs me until there’s no room for anything else.
Upstairs, the door crashes open. Urgent voices swarm inside, barking orders to each other. Yara tenses, and a violent shiver runs through her.
Raising my voice, I call out, “We’re in the basement. Tango restrained. We have a woman injured.” Belatedly, I remember my knife and toss it on the ground beside the gun. “I’m unarmed. Weapons are on the floor.”
As footsteps rush towards us, I kiss Yara’s hair again. “It’s okay,” I murmur against her hair. “You did such a good job already. Just let me take care of things from here.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she lifts her head to look at me. My heart wrenches at the trust in her eyes. “Okay,” she replies softly. “Okay.”
CHAPTER 11
YARA
“So,the apartment is all set up for you already.”
Ace presses his finger against the biometric reader on the keypad, then punches in a long string of numbers. Once the little light on the keypad switches from red to yellow, he leans down to stare into the retinal scanner, and a moment later, the yellow switches to green.
The lock makes a soft clicking sound, and he opens the door while adding, “I’ll make sure Tyler gives you access, so you don’t have to ask one of us to let you back in.” His hand moves from the small of my back to my hip as we walk through the doorway and into the Blade and Arrow headquarters. “I’m sure you’ll want to rest for a few days, but once you’re feeling better, I can show you around the rest of the property.”
“I’m not sure I need a few days to rest,” I protest. Hoping to relieve the tension that’s been etched into Ace’s features since he rescued me last night, I try to inject some levity into my tone. “It’s not like my legs are broken after all. Just my fingers.”
But my words seem to have the opposite effect. Ace frowns, and a muscle in his jaw twitches. His gaze slides to my injured hand, where my three broken fingers are splinted. He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. “Your body is recovering from a trauma, Yara. You need time to recuperate.”
“Just a few cuts and bruises. I’ve had far worse before.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he retorts. “And I’d hardly say you only have afewcuts and bruises.”
Technically, he’s right. Thanks to Davis’s fists and knife, my body is littered with close to a dozen cuts and bruises combined. None of them were life threatening—the worst of the cuts only took ten stitches to close—but considering what could have happened had Ace not arrived when he did, I’m in no position to complain.
Well. Icouldcomplain. I could gripe about the throbbing ache in my broken fingers, or the dull throb of my bruises, or the painful pulling sensation from my stitched and bandaged cuts whenever I move. I could complain about the simmering panic inside me that’s getting harder and harder to contain.
But it wouldn’t solve anything.
I can’t go back in time and change history so Davis was rescued at the same time as me. I can’t make it so he was never transferred to that other facility, which I’m certainwasmuch worse than the one I was held in. I can’t change the hatred he harbored towards me for years.
And no amount of complaining is going to take away the memories of last night.
As soon as my thoughts wander close to them—to the blood, the fear, the helplessness, the flashbacks that felt oh, so real—I quickly turn them in a different direction. “Anyway,” I reply brightly, “I’m feeling fine. So, how about a tour?”
Ace’s brows pinch in confusion. “A tour? But you’ve been here before. For Indy and Bea’s wedding.”
“I didn’t see the whole place, though.” I glance around the large, open living space where Indy and Bea held their wedding reception a couple of months ago. The room is decorated for Christmas now, rather than a wedding, with twinkle lights trimming the windows and pine garlands adding a crisp, woodsy scent. “Just here and the deck.”
Ace’s gaze follows mine. A moment later, a slight smile curves his lips. “Looks like they put up even more decorations.” He nods in the direction of a small herd of wooden reindeer. “Last time I saw, there were only three.”
I look at the cluster of six deer of varying sizes. “Maybe they found friends? Or had babies?”
“Maybe,” Ace agrees. “Apparently, Eden and Noelle are behind all of this. Although I’m sure Bea will jump in to help if she hasn’t already.”
