Running Scared (Sentinel Wars #3)
Page 14Joseph looked at her, and hurried over to help her with the door. To Torr, he said, “I see I’m not the only one with your best interests at heart.” He gave her a gallant nod. “Good evening, Grace.”
Grace averted her gaze, feeling the sudden urge to curtsy. Of course, had she done that, she would have dropped the tray full of food, so she settled for bowing her head. “Mr. Rayd.”
“Joseph. You can call me Joseph like everyone else here.”
No, she couldn’t. The man had earned a place as the head of a powerful group of people. If anyone deserved her respect, it was him. “Thank you,” she whispered, keeping her eyes down, tracking his hands.
She knew he’d never hit her, but some habits were harder to break than others. Learning to dodge fists was one of them.
Joseph held the door while she moved inside, easing away from him. “Since you’re here, I’m going to go see to my work. Thank you for taking care of him.”
“You’re welcome,” said Grace.
Joseph left, leaving Grace alone with Torr. “How are you tonight?” she asked him.
“Go away,” came his gruff voice from the living room. His back was to her. He was staring out into the night, watching the slow progress of the broken wall being rebuilt in the distance.
“I brought you dinner,” she told him, keeping her voice carefully neutral.
“Piss off.”
Grace ignored his rudeness and grabbed a TV tray to set her load on.
He didn’t even spare her a glance.
She stepped in front of his wheelchair and crossed her arms over her chest. His long body was strapped in, keeping him upright. He didn’t look healthy at all. He was a little thinner, of course, but that wasn’t what bothered her. It was the dark circles under his eyes and the dullness in his skin and hair that had her worried. They hadn’t been there earlier this morning when she’d come by to check on him before work. He’d really given up on living.
His amber eyes slid over her body from head to toe and back. Everywhere his gaze touched heated more than a little. As much as she hated to admit it, she liked the way he stared at her like she was something he should dip in chocolate and lick clean.
Coming from another man, it might have intimidated her, but not Torr. He couldn’t hurt her. He couldn’t even move, and she felt completely safe with him.
“Lasagna, chicken alfredo or pepperoni pizza?” she asked him. He had a weakness for Italian food and Grace was not above using that weakness shamelessly.
He said nothing, but his eyes slid past her, dismissing her to look out his window again. Beard stubble shadowed his jaw and she made a note to give him a shave before she left tonight. The idea of having a reason to touch him was too appealing to resist.
An impatient sigh built up in her chest, but she refused to let it out and let him know he was getting to her. Patience and stubbornness were the key here and Grace was armed with plenty of both.
She pulled up a chair in front of him and took the lid off the first dish. Steam from the lasagna wafted up, filling the room with the scent of fresh roasted garlic. She put a bite on the fork, but rather than bringing it to his lips as she had countless times before, she ate it herself.
He was letting himself die—the only man who’d ever made her feel safe. A rarity like him wouldn’t come around more than once in a lifetime, and she wasn’t going to let him go without a fight.
“Anything new on rebuilding the wall?” she asked to break the silence, then took another bite.
“No. They should have been done by now, though.”
“There isn’t enough manpower. Or womanpower, as the case may be. They can only go as fast as Helen and Gilda are able.”
Torr’s mouth tightened, and his jaw clenched. She could practically feel him aching to go help his brothers, and wished there was something she could do to ease him. No matter how long or hard she thought about it, nothing came to her. She couldn’t heal his spine, or make him walk again, and that was the only thing he wanted.
She took another bite, though swallowing it was hard. Her throat was tight, and she had to fight the tears that seemed to well up inside her whenever she saw Torr hurt.
He eyed the tray, then gave her a knowing look. “It’s not going to work. I’ve made up my mind. Joseph won’t give me an honorable death, so I’m choosing this one.”
“You’re giving up too soon,” she told him. “It’s only been a few weeks.”
“If the Sanguinar were going to find a cure for me, they would have done so by now. All I’m doing is wasting valuable blood when it’s needed elsewhere. I even offered to let Tynan bleed me dry, so at least I’d be of some use, but he refused.”
“You’re worth saving.” This time, she couldn’t stop the tears from stinging her eyes. She turned away so Torr wouldn’t have to see her weakness.
“I’ve had enough, Grace.”
Her name on his lips sent a shiver running through her. His voice was low and gentle, void of the scathing anger that she’d become so accustomed to.
“But what about the rest of us? We’re not ready to give up on you.”
“Will you ever be? It’s easy to have hope when you’re not the one locked inside this chair all day and night. You don’t know what it’s like.”
“No, but I’d take your place if I could.”
His voice hardened with anger. “I wouldn’t allow that. No one deserves this fate. Especially not you.”
Grace sniffed quietly and tried to be subtle about wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She had to hold it together. She was only making things harder on him and she didn’t want that. He had enough to bear.
She went to him and knelt in front of his chair. “Please, Torr. Give it some more time.”
He looked down at her, his gaze sliding over her face in an almost tactile way. “I’ve lived longer than you ever will. I’ve spent my life fighting evil and being useful. It’s time to let go.”
“If there is, I’ll never find her. And even if I did, who’s to say it would do any good? I was poisoned, Grace. My spinal cord practically melted where that slug thing attached itself. You don’t just fix something like that.”
“You don’t know that. You’re guessing.”
His mouth flattened. “Why do you care so much?”
Grace had to look away. She couldn’t let him see the truth in her face—how easily she’d fallen for him. How much she loved him. “You helped save my life.”
“I don’t see you hanging with Iain or Alexander, and they were both there that night, too.”
“But they don’t need me,” she whispered.
“Neither do I, Grace.” His words hit her like a fist and she barely heard the rest of what he said. “I’m beyond needing anyone. All I want now is to be left to die in peace.”
She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her cheek. It was cold and limp and lifeless, but she held on to it, needing him to touch her, even if he couldn’t feel it. “Just give it another few weeks. For me.”
She watched him swallow, his throat moving as if suddenly dry. “You don’t need to feel guilty. My injury wasn’t your fault.”
“It was at least in part. If you hadn’t saved me and my brother, you never would have been in the position to be poisoned by that thing.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“Of course not. You’re a good, noble man. You’re better than that.”
“I’m not as noble as you think I am,” he said.
She didn’t believe it for a second. “You keep telling yourself that if you want, but you’re not going to convince me.”
“Damn it, Grace! I’m not some kind of hero.”
She flinched at his harsh tone, but held her ground. “Yes, you are.”
His cheeks darkened and his eyes lit with something she’d never seen before—something dangerous and hypnotic. “No, I’m not. And if I could move, you’d know that for a fact because I would have already had you in my bed.”
Shock filled her lungs, making her dizzy. She grabbed his knees to steady herself and looked up at him, floundering for a hold on reality. “You mean . . .” She couldn’t even finish the sentence. The idea that he’d want her was too ludicrous to even consider.
“Sex. I mean sex, Grace. I would have used your convenient case of hero worship to get between your legs. I would have fucked you and gone out to fight the next battle—find the next conquest—before you’d even had time to wake up and know I was gone.”
“Wanna bet?” he asked. “I’m not a real man anymore, but I bet if we got creative, I could still make you come with just my mouth. That might be something worth sticking around for.”
Oh God. Grace’s insides vibrated and her skin felt like it was being zapped with an electric current. She had to get away—put some space between them.
She was halfway to the door when she realized what he’d done, and came to a dead stop. He’d been trying to scare her away. He’d meant to make her run and it had nearly worked.
Grace closed her eyes and prayed for strength. She didn’t know if he’d meant any of what he’d said, or if it had all been a game, but she was going to call his bluff.
She locked the door and closed the bolt so no one could walk in, then crossed the room and pulled the curtains shut over the sliders.
“What are you doing?” asked Torr.
Her body was quaking inside, and a fine sweat had beaded up over her back, but she was going to do this. She couldn’t let him die.
Her fingers went to the buttons on her shirt. “I’m going to give you what you want,” she said, proud of how her voice was sure and steady.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
The first button popped free and she saw his eyes lock on her hands. “It means I’m going to let you . . . do that to me.” She couldn’t even say it. She wasn’t strong enough. “I’ll take off one item of clothing for every bite of food you eat.”
“What is this, some kind of joke?”
“No joke.”
“Stop it, Grace.”
Another button opened.
“Don’t you want to play?” She had tried to sound seductive, but had no clue if she’d pulled it off. She’d never undressed for a man before.
“No.” It was weaker and less emphatic than before.
Her hands stilled. “Does that mean you don’t want to see me naked?” she asked.