Forsaken (The Secret Life of Amy Bensen #3)(24)

“What? Wait. You’ve tied me up, but you’ll give me a gun?”

“I can’t help you if you shoot me. You can’t call Sheridan to tell him our location if you’re tied up. Pretty damn clear to me why this works.” Standing, I tear my shirt off over my head and toss it away. Her eyes go wide and she gives me a fast but thorough inspection before her cheeks flush and she glances away.

“Don’t look at me like that again,” I warn, tearing off my ankle holster and setting it in the sink, “or I might stop caring who hates who until after we f*ck.” It’s crass. I’m crass and suddenly pissed off, and I don’t try to pretend I know why. I walk past her, so close in the small space our knees bump, and damn it, I jolt with the impact, and that pisses me off, too. I turn on the shower and adjust the water.

“Me,” she supplies as I turn to tower over her. “Just in case you’ve forgotten how mad the kiss in the truck made you. You’ll hate me.”

“If I end up hating you, Gia, it won’t have anything to do with how good you f*ck or don’t f*ck. I promise you that.” I step away from her, giving her my back and unzipping my pants. I shove them down my body and kick them away. Turning, I find her head on her knees, her long brown hair draped over her face.

“Tell me when you’re in the shower.”

This is not a seductress, or even an actress. No one is this good, and I have no idea why, but seeing her hiding her face is like a hammer cracking the ice I erect around me. I laugh, a low, deep, genuine sound I barely remember as belonging to me. I never laugh; I don’t even smile all that much. I’m really not sure what to make of it. I was just pissed off. I am pissed off. And aroused, my cock thickening uncomfortably, in a way that would scandalize this woman, and oh yeah, I want to scandalize her, and a whole lot more. I want this woman like I don’t remember wanting anything in a very long time. But I step past her, resisting the urge to touch her, because now is not the time for this. It may never be the right time.

When I climb into the shower the hot water pours over me, erasing the odd combination of laughter and lust of moments before and soothing the ache of my many beatings. I sigh with relief as heat seeps into my weary body. I needed this. Oh yes. I really needed this.

“Please don’t make noises, unless you’re going to sing something really silly that makes me forget you’re naked.”

My lips quirk. “What kind of noises am I making?”

“Pleasure sounds.”

A full smile manages to find my lips. “I like getting dirty, sweetheart, but I enjoy cleaning up now and then, too.”

“You’re just trying to embarrass me now.”

“If I can’t f*ck you right, I might as well f*ck you wrong.”

“You like the word f*ck.”

I laugh again, working shampoo into my hair. “I suppose I do.”

“My father liked it, too. It surprised people.”

“A fancy university doesn’t seem like a f*ck kind of place,” I comment, rinsing the soap off.

“Oh, don’t let the prestige fool you. It’s Texas, after all, and there were some redneck boys who held nothing back. And the thing is, my father was one of them, but he dressed and presented himself as very refined and proper, so it shocked people to see the other side of him.”

I turn off the water and rip open the shower curtain, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my waist. “And what the f*ck does that make me?”

She laughs, keeping her eyes on my face, not my partially naked body as she says, “Very f*cking different. And my father would be appalled that I used that word.”

I grab another towel and dry my hair, struck by how fondly she talks about her father, and how difficult it’s going to be to get her to let go of her past life. Either Gia isn’t afraid of what the future holds or she’s in denial. Tossing the towel over the edge of the tub, I face her, closing my hand around hers where it holds the gun. “Do you want to survive this?”

The light in her eyes fades. “I am going to survive.”

“Good. Then the old you doesn’t exist. I’m your safe zone, the only person from this point forward who can know who you were or where you came from. Gia doesn’t exist anymore. Nothing you’ve done before now can ever be a part of your life again, or Sheridan will find you.”

“But you said you were going to destroy him.”

“Destroying Sheridan isn’t enough. He’s aligned with other very powerful, very rich people who want that cylinder. Assuming you’ve told me the truth, you denied them their prize by helping me escape.”

Her eyes glaze over, but she doesn’t cry. “Tell me,” she says, her voice quavering, “that I did all of this for a reason. I need to know. Or maybe you understand better like this. Tell me that I did this for a f*cking reason.”

“The more you know, the more danger you’re in.”

“That’s bullshit. My life is ruined. I’m on the run. I deserve to know.”

In this moment, I believe there is more to Gia than meets the eye, but I do not believe she’s working for Sheridan. Or if she is, or was, it either wasn’t by choice, or it’s with the kind of gut-wrenching regret I feel over having made the same mistake. And I won’t make it worse by putting her in more danger.