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“Is she going to die, Papa?” A small voice asks.
I can’t bring myself to look at Killian as I continue to speak, but I feel his grip on me tightening as I continue. I can spare him the details, at least.
“Luckily, Iwasa good con-artist and had actually saved a good chunk of money. Once I healed a bit, I got help to sneak out of the country and headed to Thailand. I spent almost a year in recovery, surgery after surgery. Then therapy, years of remorse and self-pity until I started doing martial arts. Then I saw a newspaper article about Eternity and, well, the rest is history.”
I finish, and he says nothing. I turn to look up and see his face. The rage written across it is evident. His arm is still tight around me like a vice. Bringing a hand up, I place it on his cheek so his eyes meet mine. I can feel the tension in his jaw and body.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” I say as I search his eyes. His hand squeezes on my shoulder.
“No, I should have asked sooner. You told me, but I never thought…” He shakes his head, as though to dispel unwanted images. He brings his eyes back to mine, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel like someone actually sees me.
Not Jericho, not even Echo.
Me.
I feel the corner of my lip turn up and his brow furrows. Leaning forward, I plant a light kiss on his lips and settle back on to his chest.
“You’re so strong,” he comments, the wonder evident in his voice. “I can’t believe what you’ve been through.”
It’s a weird compliment, but that is how I take it and I feel myself smile. I sit back into his arms, feeling strangely better after telling him about it.
“I wonder if you would have liked the old me,” I say absently.
He kisses my forehead. “I’m sure I would have.”
I snort. “I dunno. I was a ruthless bitch. But I was hot shit.”
He chuckles, pulling me tighter to him.
“Then I suppose not much has changed.”
That puts a smile on my face.
We don’t talk for several minutes and I feel sleep beginning to drag me back down.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says finally, his voice a quiet whisper.
“It’s the past,” I whisper back, “and I have you now.”
“Damn right.”
The idea of having a bomb that’s big enough to level a building in my apartment is not the most pleasant. I have a handgun and a pump-action shotgun, not to mention a decent collection of knives and various other weapons, but the simple-looking pipe-bomb scares me.
Killian tried to say we should leave it at his place, but ultimately, we decided moving it as little as possible was the best idea. Which is how it ended up sitting in my closet beside my favorite satin pumps.
“You work tonight?” Killian asks as he pulls on his pants. Lying in my bed wearing only his t-shirt, I sit forward to admire the view.
“Mmmhmm,” I respond, “Going to be tough to get through the next few days.”
“Patience is a virtue and all that shit,” he replies with a wink, leaning forward to plant a kiss on my lips. “I’ll see you tonight. Tomorrow night, we end this.”
With a sigh, I sit back in my bed and pull out my phone. I have nothing to do but lie in bed, and despite wanting to read a book on my Kindle, my eyes keep drifting to my closet. The third time, I toss my phone down and throw the covers back. I move slowly across the room and open the door, pulling the sheet off and cocking my head to the side to stare at it.
All the things I went through pale in comparison to the end they’ll get.
I wish I could spend days torturing them all, like they did me.
“What do you think? Has she had enough?” James laughs, poking me with his foot.
