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I scrambled into the vehicle and remained silent all the way to the marina.
On the ride to the villa, I held Reid tightly in my lap and tried to make sense of everything that had happened today.
The closer we got to the house, the more I wondered if I’d made the right choice in following Deacon back.
He was dangerous.
A complete mystery.
How many people had he killed? How much trouble had he gotten into? How many more enemies did he have lined up?
The boat’s motor slowed as we entered the channel. Miguel jumped to the dock and tied the rope. Deacon abandoned the wheel and approached me. His boots trotted against the floor.
I handed Reid over without looking at him. “I think he’s hungry. I’ll make us something for dinner.”
“Angel.” He snatched my wrist, right over the scrapes the ties had made on my skin.
I hissed.
Stricken, Deacon released me. He shook his head and grinded his teeth together, causing his jaw line to go rigid. “Go inside,” he said roughly, “and rest. Don’t do anything else.”
“If I sit still, I’ll go crazy with all the thoughts running through my head.” I glared at him and then turned to Reid. “I’ll make you some grilled cheese. Would you like that?”
Reid nodded.
Deacon sighed and jumped to the pier. He turned back and offered his hand to me. I ignored it and climbed out on my own.
Deacon didn’t say anything.
Moonlight lit our way. When we came to the part of the path that diverted from the villa to Miguel’s bungalow, I stopped and signed, “Thank you.”
He clasped my hand and gave me a fatherly smile before nodding at Deacon and heading back to his place.
“Come on,” Deacon said when I remained still. “It’s getting cold.”
I followed him into the house and headed straight to the stove to warm up the pan. After setting two slices of bread in, I placed a slice of cheese over one and clasped them together.
Doing something so normal felt intensely gratifying. I threw my entire body into making that sandwich and didn’t allow myself to think about hitmen, kidnappings or anything else.
We all ate our sandwiches around the table, but there wasn’t much talking. Reid got sleepy almost immediately after he ate and Deacon went to put him to sleep.
I headed to my room.
Finally allowing myself to observe the damage to my skin, I checked my wrists under the bright lights. Ugly lines crisscrossed the light brown flesh. It hurt to touch.
I sighed.
There was a knock on the door.
Deacon’s voice wafted through. “Angel, I’m coming in.”
I didn’t bother responding because he wasn’t making a request.
The door opened and Deacon walked through, carrying the First Aid kit in his big hands. He closed the door behind him and nodded to the bed, “Sit.”
“No.”
He sighed and knelt in front of my chair. “Fine.”
