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He gave a nod, his breath hot against my fingers before I removed them. Here was a man easily twice my size, who probably had more kills than I’d had hot dinners to his name, letting me shush him.
“You need a…” He started slowly, keeping his voice low.
“Yes.”
“Now?”
One brow rose. “Well, the sooner you get it, the sooner I can know for sure.”
I’d never seen him move so fast, turning around to stride from the kitchen in a heartbeat.
“Guild?” I heard London call from his study. “Guild!”
“I’m busy! I’ll be back soon. I need a…a turnip!”
I didn’t dare move as the creak of London’s chair came before the heady thud of his steps. “What the fuck?” His growl reached me in the kitchen from the hallway. “I don’t even like turnips.”
How long did a damn trip to the drugstore take?
I paced the floor of my bedroom, casting glances toward the door. I’d avoided London by telling him I wasn’t feeling well. It wasn’t a lie. I just didn’t elaborate.
The heavy thud of footsteps out in the hallway drew my gaze. They were too fast to be London’s…unless he’d found out.
Oh, shit.
I steeled myself for the onslaught as the handle of my bedroom door turned. But Guild stepped in with a brown paper bag clutched in his hand and closed the door behind him. I let out a pent-up breath, feeling myself deflate.
“They looked at me strangely,” he offered. “So I had to tell them it was for my wife.”
“Your wife?”
He gave a shrug, his cheeks turning bright red. I thought of Guild saying those words for someone he truly loved one day and my chest swelled with pride. I hoped one day he had that.
“Thank you.” I moved forward and grasped the bag from his hand.
But he just stood there, looking awkward.
“What?”
He gave a shrug, then glanced toward the bathroom.
“You want to wait?” I hissed.
I could see in his eyes he was dying to know. But then he shook his head. “Be safe, Vivienne.” He turned and went to the door, then stopped with his hand on the handle. “Just know, whatever you need. Whatever that costs me, you can always come to me.”
Damn if that wasn’t the sweetest thing he’d ever said to me. With my heart in my throat, I gave a nod and watched him leave the room. When the quiet thud of the door came, I turned for the bathroom.
My hands were shaking as I pulled the box free, then the test from the packet. Reading the instructions, I tugged off the end, adjusted myself over the toilet, and aimed for the end.
Seconds felt like hours. I placed the test on the basin, unable to stop my hands from shaking. I didn’t pray, because I didn’t know what to pray for.
Negative.
Positive.
It didn’t matter. But as I stood there watching the faint line on the test, I knew I was lying.
It mattered.
