Page 48 of Midnight Salvation

“I know, baby, but we need to get those cuts cleaned. We don’t have to talk, I promise.”

I slide off the edge of the bed with a grimace and shuffle toward the door. I twist the handle, and there he is, filling up the entire doorway. I reach over and grab his hand, pulling him into the room and then closing the door behind him softly.

“It wasn’t locked,” I murmur, arching my neck and looking up at him.

“I know, but for this to work, we have to respect each other’s privacy, yeah?”

I arch a brow. “Really? Weren’t you the one who watched me sleep through those security cameras everyone thinks I didn’t know about?”

There’s a faint pink that tints the apples of his cheeks, but the smile on his face is the epitome of shit-eating grin. “If you want me to apologize, I’m afraid you’re going to be left wanting, sweetheart.”

There’s that charm again. That sort of subtle cockiness that I find absolutely irresistible. It makes it hard to stay mad at him if I’m being honest. Which obviously I can never tell him that. He’s exactly the type of person to use it to his advantage.

“Let’s get you taken care of,” he murmurs, nudging me further into the room.

“Okay, where do you want me?”

The side of his mouth hooks into a grin and he drags his palm over his mouth like he’s trying to hide it. “You could tempt a saint, Evangeline. Head to the bathroom. There’s better lighting in there.”

I nod and shuffle into the bathroom. I look longingly at the clawfoot tub in the little alcove that runs on the side of the house. I’ve been back in Rosewood for months, and still, I haven’t had a chance to dip so much as a toe into the bathtub. I sigh, and head toward the linen closet next to the shower.

“I got it,” Nova says, stopping me with a gentle touch at my elbow. “You go sit on the counter.”

I nod and step to the side. It feels good letting someone else take care of me. It’s not like I’ve never had it before, because I have. By several different people, in fact. But it just feels different coming from him. It’s different with any of them taking care of me.

I hop onto the counter and Nova brings over the small first aid kit. It’s a white tin box with a red cross painted on the top, and it’s been here for my entire life. I’m pretty sure Grandpa Dalton won it as some carnival prize a few decades ago. But when Nova flips open the lid, I’m surprised to see it’s been recently refilled. I’d expected a few random bandages and some antiseptic cream, but this thing is fully stocked with all kinds of things.

Rows of bandages organized by size, gauze pads, and a small pair of scissors. Rolls of medical tape, small bottles of hydrogen peroxide, and alcohol swabs. There’s even an emergency suture kit.

“Is this your doing?”

Nova drags his hand across the back of his neck, his gaze darting to the side. “As much as I’d like to take credit, this is courtesy of my brother. He takes this kind of thing seriously, yeah? Not that I don’t agree with him, given recent events. But we’re not trying to overstep, and I think he did leave the three old bandages you had?—”

I place my hand on his wrist, halting his almost rambling explanation. It’s not like him to be so nervous around me, but I find it a little endearing. “It’s alright. I want you to make yourself at home, all of you.”

“He didn’t mean it like that, you know,” he murmurs. His hands move with practiced ease as he cleans the wound on my arm, his touch gentle and soothing. “Years ago, before we became what we are now, we were in the middle of some serious shit. Hunter was a baby, like brand-fuckin’-new baby, and Pops, he told us we were goin’ on lockdown. The kind of lockdown that means to brace for impact, yeah?” He shakes his head, his hair sliding across his forehead. “And my brother damn near lost his mind.”

My brows lift with surprise as Nova’s words paint a different version of the Reapers than I know.

“My brother isn’t perfect, sweetheart, but it wasn’t as personal as I know it felt, yeah?” His voice grows slow, his tone measured. I watch his expression smooth into something contemplative, lips pursed and eyes serious.

“Why are you telling me this?” I ask softly, feeling a sense of vulnerability in his confession.

Nova shrugs a shoulder. “It feels like the right thing to do.”

I tsk under my breath, a little surprised by his answer.

“Besides, I want you in my bed tonight and not just because I’m the default when you’re angry with my brother,” he drawls with a smirk.

A soft laugh spills free. That’s the kind of answer I expect of him. Quiet settles around us, but it’s the good kind. A welcome reprieve to the intensity from downstairs.

I don’t begrudge them for their emotions, but sometimes it’s hard to bear the weight of their emotions and mine at the same time. Especially when everyone is heightened. Or maybe that’s just me.

The warmth of his fingers against my skin relaxes me enough that my eyelids start to droop.

“Tired, sweetheart?”

“Hm.” It’s a humming sort of acknowledgment.

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