Page 16 of Full Throttle

“Please,” I said softly, damn near ready to beg.

“Thank fuck for that. You look like shit,” Dontell teased, giving me a wink.

I flipped him off.

“I’ll take you into your room and go get the shower on. Mina should be back up to help you undress,” Leon told me, keeping his voice soft as he carried me past the kitchen, down a short, narrow hall, past the amazing bathroom, and into the bedroom I’ve called mine for the last few months.

In the middle of the room was a queen-sized bed with fresh white sheets, cream pillows, and a sage green comforter. Sullie picked it up from the store when he’d heard I’d be staying here. He did that for every guest. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one from the group to stay here. Dean, the ex-baseball player and his wife, Gwen, stayed here years ago.

Sullie told men they rekindled the love they’d lost up here, told me there was some sort of magic here.

I felt it.

The second I stepped in here on the rainy night, walking in on the most interesting group of people I’d ever seen, I sensed the magic, though, I didn’t know anything about the Bratva or the Mafia then. I thought I was just brought here to St. Louis to race and be apart of Oasis, but after the last few days, I knew there was more to it.

And after my shower and chicken wings, I’d be getting all the answers I needed.

“You good if I set you down in this chair?” Lee asked, ticking his head towards the big arm chair by the window. Every night, I’d been curling up there and journaling for an hour or so.

“Yeah, I don’t want to get the bed dirty.”

As carefully as he could, Leon carried me to the chair and gently set me down, careful to avoid my ribs. He squatted down in front of me, pulling the hospital sock off my left foot before he lifted my right leg, his eyes examining the wrap on my ankle. “We can leave this for now. We’ll replace it later.”

With that, he left me alone, telling me Mina would be in and warning me not to undress by myself. He closed the door, and a second later, I heard a football game on in the living room. I looked over to the small nightstand, eying the top drawer. My hand itched to hold a pen and brain dump everything that had happened. I needed to get it out or else these thoughts would leave me foggy.

I hated being foggy.

Leaning over, I tried stretching my arm out to reach, but a sharp pain stopped me about halfway. “Ahh,” I hissed, slowly leaning back up straight as the pain pulsed in my side. At a snail’s pace, I lifted my shirt up slightly, moving my bra—with boob—to the side. I sucked in a breath at the bruises scattered all over my skin. “Fuck,” I whispered in disbelief. “I really shouldn’t be here, but I’m grateful.”

“What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice barked.

I jumped, more pain shooting through me as I dropped my shirt. My head snapped up to the door where Cain stood—fuming.

He’d changed clothes from this morning, now in dark gray sweatpants, cuffed at the ankle. He wore white Air Ones to match his loose, white t-shirt. He looked so…crisp and clean, nothing compared to the man I’d seen earlier this morning. His pale blonde hair was wet, the wave taking shape as a chuck hung over his forehead, and his eyes—

I swallowed.

They were filled with an even deeper rage than last night.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying not to gape at him.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, fury burning in his ice blue eyes. “Had to do a favor for Jeremy this morning,” he snapped.

“Okay,” I said, not knowing what else he wanted me to say. Why was he so angry? Did Lee and Dontell tell him I was staying? I wanted to have that conversation with him myself.

We needed to find a way—

“Went back to the hospital to get you,” he growled, taking another step, cutting off my thoughts. The power he carried, the hatred he carried…for me, seemed to manifest itself into a shadow that loomed over both of us, tainting my pretty room. “When I got there, you were gone,” he bit out.

“I just—”

He was on me then, his hands on either side of the chair, his pale, muscular, tattooed arms caging me in as he bent low, getting an inch away from my face. “I was the one who pulled you out of the burning car last night, Nik.”

My heart jolted at his old abbreviation and I silently prayed to the heavens above he’d forgotten the other name he used to call me. If he used it now, with so much hatred in his eyes, I didn’t know if I would survive it.

I’d rather be back in the exploding car.

“Cain,” I said, my voice unsteady. “Please step back.”

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