Page 137 of Chaos Kills

Her brows immediately knit. “A thank you?”

“You did have Muncy’s son contact me, correct? You rescued Reeve?”

I watch her expression drop from curiously startled to downright shut down and void of any emotion. “Right.” She glowers at me. “Thanks for sending Torin to the rescue.”

“He was the closest.” She snorts at that, and I know it wasn’t ideal, but I needed her to have backup ASAP. She needed me. I was shocked as shit she found a way to reach out, and I wasn’t going to have two bodies I knew would disappear under the eyes of De Leon. “That was a stupid move.”

“Did you or did you not tell me I did good after you pulled me through a broken window?” She glances down at her bicep. A bullet grazed her last night, and I’m pissed about that. She can’t be catching lead, or Levi is going to kill Ozzy for not looking out for her, and then I’m going to kill Wallace for touching my brother. “You fixed me.”

As I stare at her, she doesn’t look so complicated when she’s in bed. When she’s not out there trying to survive and look out for her family.

Which is mind-boggling because she just bitched at me two nights ago about leaving and protecting them. But she still goes out to save Reeve.

She’s in love with him.

Either that or still thinks highly of the asshole.

“Make sure you clean it a few times,” I reply. “I made sure you had antiseptic in your bathroom.”

“Anything else?” Her blue eyes skate up to me under those long eyelashes.

“Like?”

She lifts her shoulders. “I dunno. You’re obviously trying to keep me alive for that Titan seat. Maybe you should’ve just let gangrene take over.”

“You’re disturbed.”

A giant smile takes over her face. “Yes, well…” She kicks the white comforter off her legs and begins to climb out of bed. “I’ve been pretty dark lately.”

Holding out an aluminum-foiled burrito, I hand it to her. “Eat. I made it myself.”

Bay’s blue eyes descends to my expression of gratitude. “I’m sorry, but…poison wasn’t the way I saw myself going out. More like a giant ball of fire or gunfire?—”

“Please,” I scoff haughtily. “That’s so basic I’m almost embarrassed that you said it.”

She extracts the temporary peace treaty from my palm and surprisingly opens it. “What’s in it?”

“Eggs, turkey bacon, red potatoes, peppers, and spinach.”

“Thanks.” Peeling the tortilla open, she immediately begins plucking the spinach pieces out like a child.

“Eat the damn spinach, Bay.”

“Now, you’re gonna tell me how to eat?” she drones, chin still tucked in her chest. “How about you get lost, Antonio Banderas.”

Cute.

“It’s good for you,” I retort. “You look like—” Her ocean blues slices up to me when I catch myself, and I quickly try to think of how I would tell one of my sisters that they look like shit if they did.

You look like shit.

It’s literally what I would say.

But Bay isn’t a sister, she’s South Shore, and therefore, she’d punch me in the balls quicker than the rest of the words would leave my lips. So, I opt for something more…normal?

“I look like, what?” she presses, picking up a potato and popping it in her mouth in a silent challenge for me to finish the rest.

“Beautiful,” I utter safely. “You look beautiful.”

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