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I silence her with another kiss, swiping my tongue over her bloody lip before pulling back. “I’ve got this. Go shower.”
“Okay. Thank you,” she says, her shoulders dropping, fatigue evident in her tone. And not just from today, but I imagine from the moment she found out who her father is.
I turn and leave, knowing if she strips in front of me, I’ll never go. I jog downstairs and find Miles still in the kitchen.
“Foods in. I’ve got some heavy-duty painkillers, too, that will knock her out for the night.”
“Put them in her water. I won’t leave until she’s asleep.”
“How do you want to play this?”
I look at Miles and cross my arms. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of it. Your cover blown at Vigo’s?”
“Maybe. Nova seems to think so because I left with her, but I’m sure I could come up with an excuse. Why? You want me to go back?”
“Yeah, I need you to get me in.”
He opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it.
“Fine, if that’s what you want. You should know that your wife punched the don’s daughter earlier. You might want to plan for the repercussions.”
“I’m not worried about Gia. She can cry to whoever she wants. I don’t give a shit. She’s messed with my wife for the last time.”
We make plans quietly until Nova comes downstairs wearing one of my long-sleeved black Henleys and a pair of my sweatpants rolled at the waist. Her face is clear of makeup and blood except for her lip, which is still oozing a little.
“Think you can eat with your lip like that? I’ll put a couple of Steri-Strips on it, but I’d rather do it after you eat.”
“I’ll try. I’m not really hungry, but I know once I crash, I’ll crash hard.”
“Good girl.”
“Here, drink this.” Miles offers Nova the water he’s laced with painkillers, so I hurry to dish up some food before she crashes.
She manages to eat about half a plate of lasagna before her eyes close, and her head seems too heavy for her neck.
“Okay, you’re done.” I scoop her up and hook the first aid kit with my finger before carrying her to bed.
I lay her down and apply a few butterfly stitchesto her lip before taking off her sweatpants. She’s bare underneath. But for once, I’m distracted—her top has ridden up, showing a large bruise blooming on her stomach where the motherfucker must have kicked her.
It didn’t dawn on me to ask her if she was hurt anywhere else, thinking she’d tell me about all her injuries. But I guess she was trying to keep me calm. Gritting my teeth, I peel the Henley off and toss it aside. Her chest seems free of marks, but both her arms are ringed with bruises where she’s been grabbed.
I pull the blankets over her, kiss the inside of her wrist, and walk into the closet. I get changed and grab a couple of guns, shoving them into the pockets of the black tactical pants I have on. Taking a leaf out of Nova’s book from the night of the shooting, I grab a ski mask and shove it in my back pocket, along with a pair of gloves.
When I get to the kitchen, Miles is waiting for me. “Ready?”
He nods. “She gonna be okay here by herself?”
I narrow my eyes on him as he looks toward the stairs. “Careful, Miles. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had a thing for my wife.” The warning is clear in my voice.
He looks back at me. “I just mean in case she wakes up afraid.”
“Nova isn’t like the women you’re used to, Miles. If demons seek her out in her dreams tonight, she’ll slay them herself. And I’ll be back before morning to make sure she’s good. Guards are watching the house, too. She’s never really alone, and you know it.”
He nods and follows me as I walk out to the car. I might have to keep an eye on him. I’m sure his feelings for my woman are purely platonic. I’d rather not have to slit his throat, but he’s replaceable.
Nova isn’t.
Chapter 21
