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My eyes widen. “You popped your arm back into place?! You should have told me that was what you were doing.”
“Why? Because you would have offered to suck my cock?” he teases.
“You wish.” Although, my body heats at the idea of sucking his cock. My mouth waters and my hands itch to feel his long, thick cock in my hand.
“What are you thinking about?” Langston asks, but from his smug expression, it seems he’s learned how to read my mind again.
“I’m thinking about how much of an arrogant ass you are.”
“Sure, you are.” His eyes twinkle at me. “Now, help me get my shirt off so I can use it as a sling.”
I suck in a breath and hold it while I grab the hem of his shirt. Maybe if I hold my breath, I’ll be immune to being turned on by his rock hard abs. I lift his shirt up his torso and then help him move his left then right arm through the sleeves. He doesn’t wince once; he just stares at me as if he’s seeing me clearly for the first time.
“What are you looking at?”
He shakes his head, clearing away his thoughts. “Help me tie it up as a sling for my right arm.”
“What about your left?”
“It’s just my elbow—probably a bruise or strain, I don’t think it’s dislocated. My right is the one that needs rest the most.”
I nod, trusting his own judgment of his body. He’s lived his life fighting and getting hurt with fists, bullets, and knives. I’m sure this is normal for him, but it’s not for me. This isn’t the life I wanted, but it was the life I was always destined to have.
I reach around his back to loop the shirt around and then tie it up on his left shoulder, careful not to brush my hand against his firm chest. Once I’ve tied the shirt, I help him place his right hand into the makeshift sling.
“You’re good at that,” I say.
“Good at what?”
“Not showing pain.” But then he’s been practicing not showing pain since he was five, long before he joined Enzo and his team.
“You make it infinitely easier, but then physical pain is easy to hide. It’s the emotional pain that I struggle to keep hidden.”
“Where did you and I go so wrong? How did we end up here—hating each other so thoroughly?”
“You’re lying if you think we hate each other. We are supposed to hate each other, but that doesn’t mean that we do,” he says.
Langston’s right. Despite him taking everything from me, I could never hate him. And despite whatever horrors he thinks I’ve done to him, he could never hate me.
“What are we going to do about our predicament?” I ask.
“We should figure out who our enemy is; then we will have the best idea of how to fight him.”
“I wish we had something we could use as a shield to keep from being hit by the darts.”
“I won’t let anyone else drug you. I’ll shield you,” he promises.
He takes my hand with his left and once again grips it. I wish his words were true. Just like I wish there weren’t any lies between us. I wish I could trust him with all of the truths I possess. I wish he could trust me with his.
“So, enemies? Should we go through our list of anyone we can possibly think of?” I ask, bringing the subject back to reality. As much as I want Langston to be my knight in shining armor, he can’t be.
“Sure.”
Langston scoots back until he’s leaning against the wall, and I sit cross-legged in front of him. I’m not at as good as him at hiding my pain, but I try my best to stifle a groan.
“Liesel, are you—”
“I’m fine,” I say sternly, not letting him redirect the conversation again.
