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Matty pursed her lips. “Whoever hurt her was trying to hurtyou.This isn’t about her father. And keeping Kelly hostage will only make things worse.”
Logically, I knew this. But I wasn’t capable of thinking straight when it came to Belle. “She’s safest in my care.”
“Billy,” Matty said on a disapproving sigh.
“Not another word, Matilda.” I didn’t want to hear it. I was in charge, and they’d all pledged their loyalty to me. That meant not questioning my every goddamn decision.
Belle began to stir when we pulled up to the saloon. The Devil’s Hand was my domain in Hell’s Kitchen. The saloon and back rooms offered a safe meeting place, while the second floor was my office and some living quarters. The third floor was where I stayed. No one was ever allowed up there, except for Matty. And now Belle.
“Bax?” Belle’s fingers curled into my vest as she stirred.
I continued up the stairs, ignoring the looks from my men. “It’s me, widow. Just relax.”
Matty followed, and I was grateful for the help in getting my door unlocked. Before she left, Matty said, “I’ll go see what I can find out.”
“Good. Send the doc up.” I had one nearby for emergencies. “Also deal with Timmy and Sad Pete.”
Matty nodded and disappeared, leaving me alone with Belle. Striding into my bedroom, I placed her on my bed. Her eyelids fluttered open, finally showing me her gorgeous eyes, and it was such a goddamn relief that my knees went weak. I sat heavily on the mattress.
She licked her lips. “Where are we?” Her voice was rough, like pebbles were stuck in her throat. It had to hurt like a son of a bitch to speak.
Guilt pricked at the nape of my neck. Belle had been hurt because of me. I got up and poured her a glass of water from the stand. “Don’t talk. Rest your throat.”
“Then . . . answer.”
Returning with a full glass, I helped her sit upright enough to drink. “You’re in my apartment, atop my saloon.”
She finished half the water, then relaxed. “Home.”
Walsh—or any of my other enemies—could find her there. It was too much of a risk. “It’s not safe.”
She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes. A single tear slipped from the corner onto my pillow. I wiped the wetness from her skin with a fingertip. Then I bent to press my lips to her temple. “Someone tried to hurt you. Until I find out who, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Why . . . you care?”
I wasn’t sure.
I just knew I couldn’t let anyone hurt her. Ever.
“Until we find your father, you’re mine,” I whispered into her skin, a promise sworn into flesh and bone. “And I will burn down this entire city to keep you safe.”
She turned her head and kissed me.
I nearly fell off the bed. Jesus, I hadn’t expected this. But her lips were on mine, our noses rubbing, and I kissed her back. Her mouth was soft and sweet, and I soaked in the reassurance that she was still here. Still alive.
Before it turned into something more, I eased away. “I’ll let you sleep, sweetheart.”
“No, stay.” Her fingers clutched my arm. “I don’t want to be alone.”
I understood. She’d almost died. It could rattle a person.
Standing, I removed my coat and boots. Then I went to the other side of the bed and stretched out next to her. She rolled toward me and curled into my side, as sweet and trusting as a kitten. I didn’t know a damn thing about heaven, but I had to imagine it was this right here. Belle in my bed, in my arms.
My cock was growing stiff, but I ignored it. “Try to sleep.”
“Talk to me. Tell me . . . a story.”
“I’m no good at talking.” Ask me to win a fight or fire a pistol, cheat the coppers or rob a bank. But spin a yarn full of fantasy?
