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“Open your eyes and tell me how much you hate me,” he pleaded in Win’s ear.
Win didn’t, and so Mathieu remained in that bed at his side, with one hand over Win’s chest, over his heart, as he allowed the mesmerizing drone of Win’s heartbeat to lull him to sleep.
22
A deep consistentdroning roused Win. His body ached all over, and he struggled to open his eyes.
“And I know you hate me, but I love you.”
Mathieu. Why was he— Where was Win? Why was it so hard to open his eyes?
A soft touch on his right hand brought a familiar warmth. Mathieu’s touch.
“Dezole. I’m sorry.” Mathieu’s words filtered through Win as if through water. “I hate that I hurt you. Open your eyes and tell me you hate me.”
Win’s heart thudded at the desperate plea. Thing was, he didn’t hate Mathieu. Never had. Which was probably the stupidest thing, wasn’t it? How do you not hate someone who broke your heart the way Mathieu had? Jairo had been— Jairo!
Win’s eyes popped open. “Jairo shot me.” At least that was what he hoped he said; his voice was a squeak, his throat beyond dry.
Mathieu’s face appeared in his line of sight, forehead creased with worry, something white wrapped around his head. “Win.” He cupped Win’s jaw and for a moment Win forgot everything, leaning into that touch like a man long deprived. “Are you okay? Let me get Samirah.”
Who the fuck was Samirah? When Mathieu made to move off the bed, Win grabbed at him. His hands were pretty useless, though. He just managed to tap Mathieu’s forearm, which did nothing to stop him from getting off the bed. “Wait. I—” He forgot what he was going to say when he blinked at Mathieu. The other man’s head was wrapped in a bandage. Small cuts and scrapes dotted his face and neck and as he turned away, Win noticed Mathieu’s leg was also bandaged as he limped toward the door. “What happened?” he croaked. He forgot his own aches and pains, the throbbing wound where Jairo had put a bullet in his right shoulder, and reached out a hand to Mathieu.
Mathieu stopped and turned back to him, glancing down at Win’s trembling hand then to his face. Something dark and possessive crossed his features. “Win.” He stepped toward the bed, hurrying to Win with what clearly was a leg that was hurting. He got back into the bed, burying his face in Win’s throat. “Fuck,” he breathed out, trembling against Win.
With the two of them pressed close together, lying back against the pillows, Win ignored his own discomfort, tuned in instead to the racing of Mathieu’s pulse under his fingertips.
“What happened?” Win asked in a whisper.
“Jairo happened.”
Win pulled away, staring at the other man. “He shot me.” Maybe he was a full-on idiot, but before that bullet, he would have said Jairo would never hurt him.
Mathieu’s mouth twisted, settling to a hard line. “Yes. Linc brought you here.” His eyes flashed when he mentioned Linc.
Win held Mathieu’s gaze. “Jairo hurt you?”
Mathieu shrugged. “A bomb went off—”
“What?” Win lurched upright, but Mathieu shook his head, pressing him back down onto the mattress gently.
“Easy.” Worry and concern shone in his eyes as he studied Win’s face. “After Linc brought you to me, I went to your house. Jairo was waiting with two of his guys. A bomb went off. Jairo’s men died. I thought Jairo did too, but his body is missing. Plus, your bodyguard is in the wind.”
Okay, that was a whole lot of information to absorb. Win shook his head just as the door opened and a woman marched right on in, Jason close at her heels.
“Leave the room, please,” she barked at Mathieu without taking her eyes off Win. “I need to check out my patient.”
Win gaped at her. She was maybe late twenties/early thirties and pretty. Short too, with light brown skin, and her big eyes filled with dislike when she glanced Mathieu’s way. A gorgeous pale pink hijab covered her hair.
“I’m staying with him,” Mathieu said. “Win, this is Doctor Samirah Mitra, and she’s been taking care of you.”
Mathieu didn’t look at her as he made the introduction, but Win couldn’t say the same about Jason. Mathieu’s second-in-command stared at the woman with a mix of angry frustration and want.Huh.Samirah didn’t acknowledge the introduction, though she did roll her eyes at Mathieu’s declaration that he wasn’t leaving Win’s side. Win was glad for it. Jason stepped outside and Samirah began her checkup. Win endured it with Mathieu holding his hand, staring at him as if he feared Win would disappear.
Samirah changed his dressing then handed him a glass of water, watching as he swallowed some pain meds and antibiotics. When he finished, she took the empty glass from him with a tight smile. “At least you’re not stubborn like him.” She jerked her head in Mathieu’s direction. “Gritting your teeth through the pain.”
Win turned to Mathieu. “You’re in pain?” What a stupid question. Of course, the other man was in pain. He’d almost been blown up. At the reminder, Win’s body started shaking. Mathieu almost died.
“Win?Sa k’genyen?” What’s the matter? Panic crossed Mathieu’s face and he growled at Samirah. “What’s wrong with him?”
