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“It's safer if we don't. At least for a while.”
“It doesn't feel that way.” His fingers tighten around mine.
“I know but—”
“My father will still want you dead,” he says.
“I don't think he'll ever stop until he sees it happen. No matter how many times I save you.”
He chuckles, pulling away, his head rolling back and forth against the pillow. “No, because it's not about me. It never has been. I'm just the son he's stuck with.”
“That can't be true.”
“It is. I learned to accept it a long time ago. For all I know he might even be involved in my kidnapping somehow.”
“Why?” My stomach lurches at the thought and I hope it's not true. Knowing Javier though, and the kind of man he is, anything is possible. Most of the people in the lives of men like him are nothing but pawns.
“To toughen me up.What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger, or however the famous quote goes.”
“I hope not.” If it's true, I'll be even more tempted to somehow arrange his death in prison. Fuck what happens to me afterward.
“It's a pointless thing to do.”
“What is?” My brows knit together and I shuffle closer, causing our arms to touch again.
“Hoping.” His face moves closer and the heat of his breath brushes over my lips. I no longer feel in control of my actions or thoughts and my mouth hovers over his, trembling with need.
“Ev.”
“Iggy,” I say, brushing my nose to his, his eyes locking mine in place.
“I—”
The door opens and we quickly break apart.
“There you are,” a woman in blue scrubs says with a smile on her lips. “They were right when they said I'd more than likely find you here.”
“Who's they?” Ignacio asks, throwing his legs over the bed.
“The others at the nurses’ station. Apparently this is a habit of yours.”
“It's not.”
“No?” She tilts her head, pushing the computer closer to the bed.
“More like a necessity.”
She chuckles. “Okay then. Well your mom is looking for you and I need to change this one's IV out. He doesn't need any infections.”
Ignacio sighs, stepping onto the floor. “Did you tell her where I was?”
“Huh?” the nurse asks, pulling out supplies from her pocket.
“My mom,” he clarifies.
“No. I thought I'd let you do that.”
“Thanks,” he says, slowly walking past her, limping.
