Page 33 of Marked

He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, his breath labored, as if he were having some kind of anxiety attack.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.” He placed his fingers over his scrunched eyes and inhaled.

“Bad dream?” She shouldn’t care. As a matter of fact, by asking, she was opening herself up to him. Which was a very, very bad idea.

But the rigidity in his body while he slept had been concerning.

He lifted a shoulder. “Something like that.”

Huh. So the big bad murderer had a conscience? Maybe while he slept he relived all the moments in which he’d stolen people’s lives.

A little ball of empathy started to spin inside her. She’d labeled him a cold-blooded killer, but maybe there was more to the deadly hulk. After all, he’d put his life on hold to find Bella. Not without motive. But still.

If a criminal could earn brownie points, she’d give him one.

She knotted her hands in front of her abdomen while he gathered his composure. “What time is it?” he asked.

“Five thirty,” she replied, without missing a beat. She’d slept a good three hours, and the fact that no one had been actively looking for Bella during that time was eating away at her.

Cole stood, his body towering over her. She took a step back. Holy hell the guy was stacked. Muscle bunched with his movements as he tugged on the shirt and sweats he’d worn earlier. “You should eat.”

“Not hungry. I just want to find—”

“I know,” he grumbled. “I’ll get on it ASAP, okay?”

“I’ll make coffee.” If she couldn’t be productive in the search for Bella, she had to at least keep her hands busy.

If her bustling around his kitchen bugged him, he didn’t say anything. She added coffee and water to the machine, turned it on, and pulled down two mugs. He remained silent as he slid onto one of the bar stools at the island.

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep,” she scolded.

Two annoyed gray eyes landed on her. “Like I said, I’m not carrying your ass anywhere. Clearly we both needed it.”

“My daughter needs me more.”

He gestured to his phone, which he’d placed on the island. “And I’m at a fucking standstill until people wake up.”

She rolled in her lips. His harsh tone stung. But why was she expecting him to be anything more than gruff?

He exhaled. “Sorry.” The apology came out limp and defeated, the word probably unfamiliar to his tongue. “I know for you the world has stopped. I’ll wake up my brother.” He reached for his phone, but she stretched her hand across the stone counter and stopped him.

His skin was warm, branding her.

His gaze snapped up and his body froze at her touch. Slowly, she curled her fingers away. “Don’t. You’re right.”

“No, I was an ass. Besides, he’s usually up—”

The device buzzed on the island, indicating a text message. Cole’s mouth hitched up, and he turned the screen to face him. “He’s got a lead.”

Her breath caught in her throat. She brought her fingers to her collarbone. “Are you serious? He found her?”

Cole made a face. “I don’t know if we’re that lucky. But he’s got something useful.” He tapped the screen and pressed it to his ear.

She expected him to walk to the bedroom and shut her out, but he didn’t move from his seat. Thankfully. Otherwise she would’ve had a freaking heart attack.

The coffee maker hissed behind her. She waited a few minutes and removed the carafe from the holder. Her heart beat an erratic rhythm against her breastbone.

---