Page 27 of Jonas

I could’ve argued that I could clean my own face but that would only prolong the pain (and embarrassment) so I tipped my head back while opening my mouth to ask a question.

This was when it went from bad to worse, and regular run-of-the-mill embarrassment morphed into all-out humiliation when water splashed on my face and into my open mouth, causing me to sputter and cough.

“Jesus,” Jonas grunted. “Are you okay?”

I spit, shook my head, and grabbed ahold of my last shred of dignity before I asked.

“Was that payback?”

“Payback?”

“The waterboarding. Was that payback for snotting on your shirt?”

Jonas didn’t laugh or even crack a smile as I’d intended. His face was totally neutral. His body locked tight. Not even his eyes roamed from mine. His team was milling about. Some of them were on their phones, some were standing guard outside of SUVs—I suspected the men who’d taken us with them were enclosed in those vehicles. But no Kira in sight. Even with all the commotion swirling around us, Jonas didn’t stop staring.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

His answer came out rough. “You didn’t leave me.”

Leave him?

“On the street, you didn’t run and leave me,” he continued.

Was he for real?

“Why would I have left you?”

A new expression came over his handsome face. It wasn’t anger or even curiosity. He looked truly perplexed.

Jonas came out of whatever trance he was in and went straight into a scowl.

“You should’ve run⁠—”

“Oh, no you don’t,” I snapped, not allowing him to finish his asinine line of thinking. “Don’t pull that stupid shit with me, Jonas. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t make me any less capable than you. And let’s not forget I got you into the mess; the least I can do is stand by your side while some beefed-up asshole darts you in the back. I would’ve done more, but dude, you outweigh me by like a hundred pounds. I had no chance of picking you up and carrying you to safety.”

“You could’ve been hurt. You should’ve left and let my team find me.”

Okay, that hurt. It was irrational and silly but the mention of his team stung. It was a great reminder of just how alone I was. I didn’t have anyone to find me. I didn’t have anyone in my corner or at my back or even someone who cared if I got dead. Well, I suppose the people who hired me would care, but only in that the job they hired me to do wouldn’t get finished. No one would mourn the loss of me should I say, die.

“What would you have liked me to do? Step aside and watch the bad guys load you into the back of their car? Which by the way, wasn’t the Merc, it was a Chevy Tahoe. Blue with black leather interior. Should I have stood there and waved to them as they drove away with your unconscious body, knowing it was me they were after? Or should I have stood by and smiled when that prick who tossed you on the concrete threatened to shoot you?” I huffed out a breath which did nothing but make my lungs burn and finished with, “If your answers to any of those are not, ‘no, Derrika you did the right thing’ then you’re just plum nutty and need a swift kick to your boysenberries.”

Jonas’s lips twitched, distracting me from irritation. Luckily for me my frustration was such that I was able to ignore the way his sexy lips hitched up as he said, “Boysenberries?”

“Balls. Nuts. Baby-making sacks. Wrinkle berries. Gonads.”

Jonas put a hand up, stopping me from continuing.

“I get it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, Dee Dee, I get you got a mean vicious streak when you’re pissed and now I know to cover my junk should I piss you off in the future.”

It took me a moment to get past Jonas calling me “Dee Dee.” Never in my life had anyone ever called me by a nickname. Growing up I was Derrika—always. My brother was Michael. Not Mike or Mikey or anything other than his full, proper given name. No sweetheart from my mother. Not a single princess or sweetie or honey from my father. No terms of endearments or shortening of names. Nothing that would build familiarity or a close family bond. I’d had two boyfriends. Just two. Both of them had called me honey and sweetheart and baby. But only when they were trying to soften me up for sex, and neither of them had ever called me Dee Dee or any shortened variation of my name.

Only Jonas.

For some strange reason that felt good.