Page 74 of Trapped

Delilah snorted. “Grit won’t keep you from bleeding out.”

“But it’ll keep you fighting, won’t it?”

She paused, frowning. “Someone’s got to keep you alive. You’re hell-bent on getting yourself killed.”

Careful, principessa. I’ll think you care.

She kept on working on my wound, her hands steady. Something about Delilah anchored me, but I wasn’t about to lay all that on her. Guys like me didn’t spill our guts even if someone sliced us open. Words were cheap, and in my line of work, they could be too revealing. Actions mattered.

“Delilah, you know I’m not one for many words.”

She paused and met my gaze. “I’ve noticed.”

“But you’ve got a solid hand. I appreciate it.”

Her smirk softened, and she returned to her task. “Just keeping you in one piece.”

“Thanks for taking care of me.”

The smirk returned to her face. “With a wound like this, you’ll probably have to put baby-making plans on hold.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You think this is gonna slow me down?”

“Silly me. I guess it’ll take more than a bullet graze to keep Santino Costa on the sidelines.”

“Damn right,” I grunted, the pain sharpening as I shifted.

Delilah’s face sobered, and she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Just try to keep the heroics to a minimum, okay?”

The comment was light, but the underlying concern was clear. She cared more than I expected, and it tugged at something inside me.

She finished bandaging the wound and sat back. “There. You’ll live. Just keep it clean and try not to get shot again anytime soon.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Moments like this gave me hope. Maybe not for a peaceful life, but one with her by my side. She could fall for someone like me. She was in this just as deep as I was. That was something worth fighting for, even if I had to bleed to make it happen.

Delilah was out cold, her body sprawled across the bed.

I sat in a chair beside the door, my hand on my gun. The weight of our situation settled on my shoulders. Staying hidden forever wasn’t an option. Dimitri would keep coming back.

Part of me wanted to stay in this bubble where it was just me and her, away from all the shit, but that was a fantasy. Reality had already knocked on my door. The phone buzzed in my pocket, Kill’s name flashing on the screen. I answered, keeping my voice low.

“Yeah?”

My brother loosed a sigh. “You’re alive. Good.”

“So far.”

“Vinn wants you back in Boston,” Kill grunted.

“Tell him I’m on vacation.”

“I’m not telling him that.” He paused. “You weren’t supposed to leave with the girl.”

I smiled. “He didn’t tell me not to.”

“Vinn’s not a fan of improvisation. You know that. You need to come back and face the music.”

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