Page 78

Milo’s hurt. He needs help, but he’s not going to get it now, not with the entire city on the look-out for an extremely dangerous suspect. They don’t know what I know or see what I see. He’s not the bad guy they think he is.

There’s only one place I can think to look.

I just hope he’s still okay by the time I get there.

CHAPTER 26

MILO

Fuck…

The next time I want to get hit by a car… I think I might skip it.

I grab an ice pack from my freezer, practically bouncing on my left foot to keep my right ankle from pushing too hard into the floor. I lay the ice pack along my now-purple ribs, wincing. I’m not sure which stings more: the biting crisp or the throbbing bruises.

With a beer in hand, I ease back into the living room. I head toward the windows and close all the blinds. I lie down on the sofa. The TV remote is close by. I should turn it on and check the local news, but… whatever.

I open the beer and chug a large amount. I feel better already.

It doesn’t seem like anything was damaged permanently. Just means I’m not running away as fast as I’d like to. I’ll check again in twelve hours. If I keep off this ankle, the pain will be more than manageable by then.

Let’s just hope the cops haven’t set up checkpoints by then, but I’ve squeezed through worse situations than that.

There’s a knock on the door. It’s quick and light. I almost don’t hear it at all.

Slowly, I set my drink down and stand up, still keeping the ice pack pressed along my ribs. It’s hard to move without making noise, but I tighten up and attempt it, anyway. If the wrong person is on the other side of this door, then I’d rather play the no-one’s-home card and ignore them.

I lean in to look through the peephole. Dripping, tattered bangs fall over her eyes. She wipes moisture off her forehead and rolls her fist to knock again.

I slide the chain free and open the door.

Anna’s eyes instantly fall to my bruised chest. She exhales hard with worry on her face and shakes slightly. She looks freezing cold.

“Are you all right?” I ask.

She raises her eyes and nods.

“And Charlotte?” I add.

She nods again.

I open the door wider to let her in. “What’s wrong?”

Anna doesn’t answer. She steps forward through the frame and pauses in front of me. My nose twitches with the scent of rain mixing with her perfume. A little more water tumbles down her cheeks, looking like tears, but I fight the instinct to hold her.

“Come on in,” I say, taking a half step back.

She bridges the gap I made. She moistens her lips and presses them together in sweet hesitation. A quiet tremble shakes her once more before she finally tilts her head and kisses me.

Her soft and warm lips open, inviting mine to do the same. I curl an arm around her waist and pull her closer as her hands rise to my face. I kiss her back, wincing as every muscle in my face burns, but I don’t care. I’m not stopping.

I pull her out of the way and slam the door. She gasps as I pin her against it, but her lips never stop connecting with mine. Her hips push forward in a soft grind and my blood rushes south in response. Her clothes are damp, wetting my skin and sending cold shivers down my spine. I lick the rainwater off her chin; off her neck. I taste her, wanting more.

Her soaking jacket falls to our feet. She kicks it aside. I drop the ice pack to run my fingers along her cheek, burrowing back into her hair as her tongue massages mine. Her tight ponytail loosens as I slide the hair tie free. The rest of her hair topples down to her shoulders, wet and wild, and I smile at a beautiful new side of Anna Silva.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her hands hovering along my bruises.

“I’ll be all right,” I say.